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sometimes im shocked with my genius
#ok so i decided i wanted to write another play but i wasn’t ready to let go of merel’s world yet#after all its only been a year and honestly i think I want to really flesh out merel’s amsterdam which is very hard#bc i see her as a lonely character where liesbeth is truly her rock#so I decided to start exploring the anne fleur relationship bc its quite prominent to merel as its her first real relationship#anyways i was watching emily in paris (i know) and i was thinking about AF meeting Dirk Jan after Belgium and what it would be like#and its canon in WOL that he knows about Merel but not really. he thinks they’re friends#and so im writing the forst meeting and i was almost going to make anne fleur confess abt merel#THEN I REMEMBERED that in my de diepte piece Merel confesses she met DJ at a party#so im like why not make that a scene#then I realised AF could withold the truth about Merel#in the first meeting#and dutch doesn’t have a seperate word for girlfriend and just a girl friend#so when Merel meets DJ I could potentially use that as a double meaning or something where AF is like#‘oh merel is een vriendin’ and everyone somehow skips over that she said een instead of mijn and so DJ reads it as a friend#or AF is completely planning to stay loyal and is drunk and the fact she uses een is foreshadowing#idk i think im onto something#my issue is as both a native speaker and an ex aspiring dutch teacher i feel merel would pick up on this#like its definitely not something she’d miss#you could also make merel a whole ass metaphor#like merel is a metaphor for my love for the netherlands#dutch language found dead
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this is my…… alter ego- ANITA MAXWYNN. ANITA MAXWYNN
#my art#My oc#Original character#oc drawing#uuuhhhh gaslight gatekeep girlboss#So sorry about the caption btw………… its past my curfew and im in a silly goofy mood :[#So meet Darling!! My one of a kind mayhaps mascot of this tumblr blog!!!! Yippee!!!!#Dont let her soft and unalarming smile fool you; this girl is really a menace to the society!!#Funfact; Darling has a younger twin brother!! You’d never know though cause they don’t look too alike from eachother.#But they are still twins!! And he works in Retail!!!#Imagine this younger twin brother also has a cute petname as a name…………… like Honey or something#Or Sunshine. Or Angel!!!!#Ah. Decisions. Decisions#Darling is definitely the evil twin……… she would also lowkey walk with her brother whilst carrying a dozen wooden logs on her back and goin#“Maybe the A in Angel stands for-“#“Amazing? Admirable? Awesome?? :]”#“…. No. Abomination.”#“…… Oh. You mean like that one giant snowman from that one Bubbleguppies episode?”#”… YOU STILL REMEMBER BUBBLEGUPPIES?!?!? AND THAT SNOWMAN??!?!?!?!?!?!”#And then they go on to discuss Bubbleguppies lore and how they miss it 💔#Ah. But kidding kidding!! That’s if i choose Angel as the younger twin brother’s name <3#Im sorry for the bad Demon Slayer/Kimetsu No Yaiba reference with the Tokito Twins also#But yeah!!! That’s my oc Darling!!!!#i hope you like her :]]#I think she’d have a Mareep if she were in Pokémon#Just a thought <3#My sister called her a discount Yor from Spy X Family and omg#how could she say this and be totally right wtf :crying:#Anyways yeah!!!! Darling slays and joins the battle :heart: !!!!#Also no you aren’t going crazy the flower in the top left corner is one of the ibis x paint decals on that one picture icon thingy erremmm
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ohhh i j remember i pulled arcane ophelia when she dropped and just never fuckin used her… i ALMOST gave her tome to odin to fix him up, but…. hehewgahehe laurentttttt i have some shiny new toy for youuuuu come home baby girl come HOME!
#ann cries about feh#arcane devourer for inigo and arcane whatever for laurent my boys are SO IN IT#hopefully severas prf is good but. its severa. of course its good.#you know im kind of winning with most of the awakening kids#i’d say most of them are actually really fucking solid units with their refines#my owains kind of bad but thats probably my fault… i put all my investment into odin instead cuz he was easier to merge#but like kjelle yarne cynthia nah lucina m!morgan all got solid refines#kjelle especially shes one of my crutches for her#geromes was kind of mid but he makes up for it by being a walking ball of attack and def stats#and if i get lucina (WHICH I WILL. SHES COMING HOME. IM NOT MISSING ANOTHER LUCI) he can take her axe#also yeah im still missing legendary lucina and spring lucina#i have the worst legendary banner luck… i always get something but never what im looking for#and spring lucina… WHY IS SHE COLOR SHARING WITH FUCKING XANDER#SPRING FUCKING XANDER GET AWAY FROM MEEE#ugh. anyways. what was i talking about#oh my noire sucks. i pulled a -atk one and didnt build her cuz i was convinced she’d be on the eventual second gen banner#she’ll almost definitely be on the next awakening banner now but who knows when thatll be#time to give in and build her but i REALLY hate her summer alt… i really do#and its like. the art isnt BAD. it looks good. and it looks like noire. but its like. she looks so scared and uncomfortable#like not my girl why would u do this to my girl….#ANYWAYS THO LAURENT IS WHO I WAS TALKING ABOUT YES NEW TOME FOR HIM WOOO
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PAINTED ALL MY NIGHTS
summary — your mommy was mean, but your daddy could be downright cruel. it makes for an interesting night when they both decide to leave you wanting until you’re not sure how much more teasing you can take, and even then, they’re not going to give in easily
warning(s) — established relationship, daddy kink, mommy kink, mild pet play, dumbification, humiliation, degradation, praise, teasing, butt plugs, dry humping, shoe humping, inspection kink, oral, fingering, choking, crying, pussy spanking, mentions of chastity belts, begging, orgasm control/denial, edging, overstimulation, forced orgasms, squirting, oral fixation (brief), finger sucking, ¿arousal tasting?, mean mommy wanda, cruel daddy natty, aftercare, men/minors dni
A soft current of chilled air swept beneath the thick desk your body remained crammed beneath, adding goosebumps to the array of blemishes against your satin skin. How you’d managed to acquire a collage of bruises on your shins wasn’t quite a mystery, but like a canvas speckled with vibrant acrylic paints, the evidence of their existence was undeniable and honestly laughable. The summer heat was thick, falling over your quaint little town as if its intention was purely to suffocate those that resided near the shorelines of New Jersey, but even beneath an office desk, curled into a tight ball, head resting on plush thighs the color of warm sand, the low thrum of the air conditioner remained a steady presence keeping you cool. A hum, softer than a whisper stolen in a overstimulating crowd, slipped off your lips when manicured fingers the color of divine cherries embedded themselves within your undone hair, scratching tenderly at your scalp that had yearned for attention since you’d wiggled your way underneath the desk your girlfriend worked at. That was how you’d acquired so many faint yet assuredly purple bruises, crawling across wooden floorboards and banging your limbs on hard wooden corners just trying to be close to the women that you love.
Your eyes, a beautiful definition of color that had somehow become the lifeline your girlfriends hadn’t known they’d been missing until they met you, looked up, just barely able to steal a glance at the woman working at the desk you sat beneath. Her own eyes, a kaleidoscope of unreplicable blues and greens, were trained to the litany of emails that had collected since the night before when she’d sat in the same place for hours attempting to respond to them all. Perhaps you had been ignorant, but before your world had been remade into what it current is, you’d never given professional trainers much thought; had never dwelled on the profession long enough to consider how in demand they are amongst military units and police squads, but your girlfriend, the one who was just slightly older than the other, had made a name for herself out of that very profession, and each day that she wasn’t stolen from you by obligations to train the cities sharpest officers, she spent an unhealthy amount of hours answering emails that all demanded to know when she was free next, and how far she was willing to travel for her services.
“You okay down there, puppy?” The tone of her voice was low, and admittedly husky from minimal use throughout the endless day that had befallen you, but equally soft as it fell against your attention deprived heart and showered you in warmth that wasn’t nearly as cruel as the unwavering heat that plagued the streets of West View. A sweet blush fell over your cheeks, a strangled whine slipping off your lips as you rocked your hips against the wooden floorboards, searching for something more; something adamantly forbidden. “Use your words, please.”
With a displeased grunt, your brain foggy despite the little action your wanting body had seen since you’d woken up tangled within cold bed sheets, you pieced together a simple sentence, direct enough to convey your desperation, but just sweet enough that your workaholic girlfriend would forgive your bluntness easily. “Want you.” It was so simple, so telling, so pure, and yet it wouldn’t be enough to convince her and you knew that. Your Mommy was mean, that was an unchanging factor in your sexual endeavors, but your Daddy could be downright cruel if she felt like it.
Another hum filled the air, though hers was prominent, filled with simple dominance that made your belly coil in unattainable pleasure and fear. “Is that so?” She chided, not tearing her gaze away from her desktop screen for even a second to take in the sight of you curled up so sweetly in a ball by her feet. Had she looked down, taken just a simple glance at your disheveled state, she would’ve noticed the dark patch adorning the center of your cotton panties, she would’ve noticed the way your pebbled nipples poked through the thin tank top clinging to your torso in an effortlessly enticing manor, she would’ve noticed your desperation glazed eyes and arousal flush cheeks, but she didn’t, and you knew that it was purposeful. She was diminishing you to be nothing but her brainless pet, and as hard as you fought to stay coherent and clear-minded throughout her trickery, it was working too well.
You’d known the game she was wanting to play since she’d coaxed you into taking one of the fancier plugs that had been purchased for your puckered hole early that mid-morning. You’d been eager to play, wiggling your hips and pushing back on the fingers that gently worked you open at a pace so slow it rivaled drying paint, but she’d found restraint since the last time you’d played this game, and patience was ever so slowly ebbing away from your wanting body. A whine, high pitched and entirely petulant fell off of your lips when nothing was given to you in the aftermath of her taunt. You rooted harder against the light oak floorboards, bracing your palms mere inches in front of your body, hoping that the balanced pressure would provide you relief, but all you’d accomplished was alerting her of your sneaky actions, and so carelessly a shoe covered foot jutted out to become your undoing. A sob broke through your lips the second her shoe nestled itself between your trembling thighs, giving you a silent ultimatum that unfortunately, you weren’t desperate enough to take up just yet. The unspoken demand was simple; ride her shoe or stop whining, but humiliation was engraved in the degrading task, and your brain, a helpless pile of submissive mush, hadn’t been undone quite enough to take the bait.
Settling back against the floorboards like you’d been prior to your short-lived act of defiance, her shoe a bulky presence beneath your body giving just enough pleasure to not be forgotten about entirely, you dropped your flush cheek to her upper-shin once more, nipping at her unblemished skin in frustration. Her fingers were quick to reprimand you, nestling into your undone hair and pulling sharply, giving you no ounce of grace despite being the cause of your misbehaving.
Another hour passed after that without so much as a glance in your direction, and then another, and then another, until the sun was sinking beneath the shorelines of New Jersey being replaced by moonlight that glimmered against every reflective surface in the home office. Your girlfriend, the artist, was due home soon. She’d been called away to her gallery early, preparations for a mid-season showcase taking up most of her time nowadays, but you could always count on her comforting presence before the canvas of sunset could melt away entirely. You whined as you shifted against the floors, rocking your sopping cunt into your girlfriend's shoe incidentally, an electric pulse of pleasure shooting up your spine and tangling into the center of your belly where one off sparks had been shooting off at for hours. It hadn’t been intentional, your only intention had been to relieve your aching bones for a few simple seconds, but instead you found yourself tethered to the source of pleasure you found despite the humiliation that just barely crossed your mind, and again, your hips rocked, and again, pleasure shot through you like a bullet train.
If your girlfriend noticed how you humped her shoe and clung to her leg and whined and whimpered and twitched with pleasure, which she most definitely did, nothing was said. There was no demand to stop that followed your curious movements, no assurance that despite your disgusting act you were good, so good, no verbal humiliation regarding how disgustingly needy your brainless pussy was. There was nothing, and the lack of attention only brought forth a new wave of discomfort. You cried out helplessly, uncoordinated movements becoming sloppy and desperate, but the tears that spilled down your cheeks like tantalizing rivulets did nothing to interfere with her concentration. It was becoming equally too much and not enough, the game was becoming less fun, less enticing, but you wanted her, and you needed her, and you hoped that eventually, before your thoughts spiraled so deep into despair that only Wanda could pull you back up, that she would notice.
Miraculously, she did. When your grinding slowed, and your sobs intensified, and you weren’t sure if you were trembling as a result of found pleasure or desperation for her, she reached down, corralling you into her lap with gentle movements and tender touches. Your sodden panties dragged along the thin material of her biker shorts, and with a mind of their own, your hips searched for relief against her, grinding and humping and wiggling so intensely that the chair rocked in time with your movements. Your face found peace in the shallowest pit of her neck, lips sucking marks onto her smooth skin, tears dampening strands of hair that had become trapped between your body and hers.
“Such a good girl, I have. The best girl. The best puppy.” She cooed softly, her fingers holding tightly to your waist, guiding your movements with leisure, inching you closer and closer to an explosion of relief that would have you falling deep into a pit of paralyzing submission for hours. When her other hand, the one that had never been laid against your waist, dipped further down, gliding against your spine until it reached the swell of your ass, you realized just briefly that this had been the end goal the entire time. She wanted you pliable in her hands, she wanted you so desperate that despite your conflicting emotions you sought pleasure from her simple body. A sharp moan fell into the air when soft fingers pressed against the plug nestled between the globes of your ass. The plug, a heart shaped jewel the color of your favorite shade of pink, pressed into you firmly, not entirely dissimilar to how it had pressed into you when you sat flush against the floorboards, but there was an added spark now that her fingers were the one provoking such sensations. “No, you don’t get to cum. Just feel it, pretty puppy. Just enjoy how good Daddy’s making you feel.” She was quick to reaffirm that forbidden rule, and your tears were quick to start again, blubbering sobs and pleas falling off your lips and you ground your clothed core into hers, your clit catching on the waistband of her biker shorts each time she guided you higher.
“My my, what’s going on in here?” Another voice, a softer voice, broke through the heavy fog restricting your mind from fully recognizing what’s happening around you. You hadn’t heard the front door close, hadn’t heard her heels clanking against the floorboards as she discarded her blazer in the living room and set her thermos of coffee down on the kitchen island, you hadn’t heard her kick off her stilettos by the stairs before she padded her way up to Natasha’s office. You hadn’t heard any of it, but you heard her now, and you reached for her with determination, your face flush and damp with tears that your Daddy was far too proud to have been the result of.
“M-Mommy!” You sobbed weakly, sparks of pleasure still paralyzing you in place on Natasha’s lap, however with Wanda home now, with your Mommy present, you could only hope that relief would make its way to your pulsating clit quickly. She never could resist the sight of your tear stained face, even if Natasha found it delectable. Mommy was hard, she was firm and she was ruthless, but at the end of the day you were just her precious little baby eager for attention and she was more than happy to give you that. It was Daddy’s puppy that could endure the wrath of denial and endless teasing, but now, your brain lingered on the verge of two headspaces that clashed so violently it was as if two separate people resided within your desires and neither one was ready to relinquish control, and your overstimulated, underwhelmed body wasn’t quite sure where to settle in the aftermath of such an emotionally charged lead up to this moment. Everything was too much, but nothing was enough to state the desire burning holes into your judgment. Natasha had broken you. That had been the game all along, you were just too naive to realize until now. You’d played the part of a dumb puppy seamlessly, grinding on her shoe, on her lap, biting at her legs and at her neck… you’d been the perfect puppy for a few agonizing hours, but now you were ready to be Mommy’s baby; her spoiled little princess.
“Oh no, Mommy’s not going to save you now, little minx. You look so pretty making a mess on your Daddy’s lap.” Wanda’s laugh was your favorite sound. It was sweet and twinged with innocence, despite the hardships that had befallen her in life, but as if fell over you now, as it crashed against your shorelines it was harsh and unforgiving, cold and threateningly eerie. A sob rippled through your chest, and pathetically your head fell against Natasha’s shoulders, your hips fumbling to an abrupt stop as you gave up. It was too much, it was all too much. You needed your Mommy, you wanted your Daddy, you didn’t want to be the one pushing toward an orgasmic explosion of relief. You wanted it done to you, wanted to be their pretty little toy that they used however they pleased, and yet they weren’t giving you that satisfaction. “You need help, is that what this is about? Mommy’s little baby can’t do it on her own?”
You peeked out from Natasha’s shoulder, beautiful eyes that stole breath from healthy lungs glazed over so heavily that the gleam of moonlight slipping in through the curtains framing the window reflected off of them dazzlingly. You wanted your Mommy, and she had so cruelly refused to help you. A guttural sob slipped off your tongue, and defenselessly you surrendered to Natasha’s persistent touches, your hips twitching of their own volition when she pressed harshly against the base of the plug nestled deep within your puckered hole with addictive strawberry flavored lube. The tank top that clung to your torso was damp with sweat and tears, giving easy sight to your pebbled nipples that rubbed and brushed against Natasha’s chest teasingly. You’d been successfully undone, not a single coherent thought in your head, and yet it wasn’t enough for them, it would never be enough for them.
“Come here, my darling girl. Let Mommy take a look at what’s bothering you.” Your cheeks, already so tenderly flush that they felt hot to the touch, became alight with nervous energy as you wiggled out of Natasha’s grip and reached out firmly for Wanda, not willing to take her rejection again. It never came, thankfully, and within seconds you were nestled against your Mommy’s chest, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume and acrylic paints. She preferred oil, but she’d been working on one last canvas that had only felt right to be constructed with vibrant purples and oranges from her acrylic collection. It didn’t matter much to you. Wanda smelt like coming home after a strenuous day, and so intimately you snuggled closer, still sniffling and writhing for pleasure to consume you.
Her footsteps were soft, practically inaudible as she padded across the wooden floorboards and brought you to the bedroom that hadn’t been seen since you’d come to find Natasha when sunlight was still painting the endless sky a hue of admirable baby blue. Your back met the soft bed sheets when Wanda threw you down, her touch lost for merely a few seconds before thumbs, stained from spilled paint, pried your thighs open, leaving your sodden panties on full display for her to enjoy. A shy whine rippled through your chest as you attempted to close your legs, but all that came of your weak protests was a curt tutt and a firmer hold.
“My my, sweetheart. Your panties are awfully wet. Mommy can see your little clit just begging for attention right through them. I bet that feels so icky, huh?” She cooed tauntingly, her unmanicured finger falling between your open legs, her paint stained nail tracing the softest line across the expanse of your clothed pussy, merely smearing arousal across the already sodden fabric. A strangled whine caught in your dry throat, your desperate gleam not nearly enough to convince her to relieve you so early on. “Let me have a taste, hm? Let Mommy see what all the fuss is about.”
Her words alone hadn’t been enough to prepare you for the sensation of a warm tongue flicking curiously against your hardened bud, a mixture of saliva and arousal further dampening your panties as Wanda leaned down to firmly taste your glistening core, her strangled moans of enjoyment sparking sensations deep in your belly that had your eyes fluttered closed and your hips grinding up to find more; more pressure, more stimulation, just more. It was over as soon as it had begun, and a whimpered protest fell into the air as you blindly reached down to grab fistfuls of neatly tamed waves, trying desperately to pull her face back down to where you needed her most. She was unrelenting, smiling down at you so sickeningly sweetly that you yearned to kick her away and roll over in a huff of frustration, but temptation got the better of you, and desperately you rolled your hips against thin air, hoping to seduce her into giving into your desires.
“M-Mommy! It’s achey!” You babbled desperately, wiggling pathetically against the bedsheets that had seen many strenuous endeavors over the last few months. Just the thought of how many times you’d come apart beneath them on these beige gingham sheets left you desperate, and the thought of adding another orgasm to the collection of passed ones had you panting.
“Oh, I’m sure it is achey, sweetheart. Your little pussy’s so needy, Mommy might just have to lock her up, huh? She gets you in so much trouble, always crying for attention, always desperate to be full. I think it’s time we teach her how to act, hm?” Wanda continued to coo, all while her fingers rub soft patterns and shapes into the soaked fabric of your pastel pink panties, though the damp patch had turned them a hue so vibrant there’s not a single paint in Wanda’s collection that could match it accurately. You shook your head adamantly at the idea, a sob clawing up your throat at her proposed suggestion, and she laughed. “It’s not up to you what Mommy does, little girl. You’ll just take it like a good girl, won’t you? You’ll let Mommy do whatever she wants to you?”
You couldn’t help but nod, blubbering into your hands that had come to hide your face at some point between her lips on your clothed core and her fingers tracing minuscule details. You whined when she spread your legs further, painfully aware of how your clit throbbed and pulsated against the fabric of your panties, enough for her to take notice and flick her fingers against your sensitive bud in tune with its rhythmic beating. A open palm slap was the sensation that startled you, and a pathetic whimper filled the room as your eyes shot open and you witnessed Natasha standing beside Wanda, her eyes trained on your core, her palm glistening despite the barrier between your core and her hand.
“How many can this slutty puppy take before she comes from a spanking alone?” Her words are directed at Wanda, her attention split between your dazzling girlfriend and your glimmering core. Not an ounce of attention falls on you, from either her nor the artist also filling the space between your open legs. It’s humiliating, entirely dehumanizing, but it fuels your arousal further, and pathetically you grind upwards, hoping to come in contact with her palm once more, even if the touch is harsh and unforgiving. “Looks like the dumb pet wants to find out.”
The first spank is heavenly, a harsh blow aimed directly at your quivering opening that’s been void of stimulation all day, but the second is cruel, aimed straight at your unsuspecting clit that throbs and pulses in the aftermath of the blow and has you writhing from that intense mix of pain and pleasure. A strangled sob rips your throat apart, your eyes wide and pleading for relief do nothing to soften Natasha’s reserve, and again she strikes you between your legs, and again your core reacts before your brain can catch up to what’s happening. It’s by the sixth that you can feel it happening. Your legs are shaking, trembling, fighting to close but Wanda holds them open and leaves you vulnerable to the assault. Your chest is rising and falling so fast that your breath comes out in strained pants. Your eyes are shut, fingers holding fistfuls of bed sheets that do nothing to ease your panic. You’re close, so close, one last hit and you’re falling over the edge into bliss that’s been sought after for days. It doesn’t come. That’s exactly what you’d been dreading, the edging. The signs had been painted across Natasha’s face since she pulled you up into her lap and had reaffirmed that you weren’t allowed to cum, but now it’s fallen over top of you like a bucket of ice water and it’s too much. It’s too much and it’s not enough and you can’t control yourself when you sob and kick at them, wriggling around like bed like the plush sheets beneath your hands will be any comfort.
“Please please please please! No Daddy! No! No no no! Please! Please! P-Please! Been good! I-I’ve been good! Been a good girl! Pl-Please!” Your words are a barely coherent jumble of sobs, and you’re faintly aware of Wanda attempting to coax you back into place, but all that dwells on you is the constant denial of relief, of attention, of affection. It’s too much, and you’re so desperate, and you’ve been so good, and you know that you’ve been good. Why isn’t that enough? Why can’t it be enough? “Wanna cum! Please! Please Mommy! Please! Please I was good! I sat with Daddy and-and I kept the plug in and I-I was good! Mommy I was good! Please! No more teasing! No more! Please! I can’t! I can’t-”
You’re faintly aware of the bed dipping beneath the presence of another body, but only when Natasha’s firm hands cup your cheeks do you realize that she’s cuddled up beside you and her hands are tenderly brushing away rivulets of perspiration and tears from your face. She kisses you sweetly, slowly, savoring the sight of you so undone from their simple touches, but there’s an etch of concern entangled with her captivating features, enough to tell you that it’s ending, it’s finally ending.
“Do you need to safeword?” She asks tenderly, brushing strands of unruly hair away from your damp face. There’s no sight of disappointment, of underlying anger, just genuine care and concern, which has been all you wanted for hours.
You shake your frantically, soft cries slipping into the silence once again. The thought of losing them after enduring so much just to get that blissful reward of an orgasm has you scrambling to make sense of your feelings, but they’ve jumbled your brain, fried your independence. You’re at their mercy until you regain their bearings, all you can manage is a soft, frantically whispered. “J-Just want you. P-Please! I’ve been good!”
“You’ve been so good, malyshka. So so good. My best girl. Let Mommy help you now, hm? Let her make all the aches go away.” Natasha speaks to you tenderly, resigning from her role as cruel daddy for the night, content to simply lay by your side, a reassuring presence as you prepare to submit to your Mommy.
Wanda works your panties off softly, caressing your thighs as she brushes against them, taking in the sight of your cunt, bare of coarse hair and blemishes, looking absolutely delectable as it glimmers beneath soft ambient lighting and undiluted moonlight. Nobody had thought to turn the lights on when they entered, but the soft night light in the corner of the room provided more than necessary as she lowered her lips to your clit and didn’t hold back.
The first suckle at your overstimulated bud was euphoric, and your back arched high off the mattress as you scrambled to twist your fingers into her hair, desperate to keep her close to your core though she wouldn’t have pulled away regardless of your persistence. She laps at you with intensity, using her paint stained fingers to hold your lower lips apart and dig right into her meal without care for how harsh or animalistic she appears, her nose bumps your clit as her lips moved south, her tongue poking into your weeping entrance and attempting to drink the arousal that had pooled there after hours of being trapped beneath thin panties. When her fingers slip into you, two to be exact, you can’t control your whines and moans, and so profusely you beg for permission to fall off the edge of the cliff and drown yourself in orgasmic bliss that rivals the chill of ocean waves in summertime.
“Go ahead. Let go, baby girl. Make a mess on Mommy’s fingers. You can cum, it’s okay. You can let go now. You did such a good job, such a good job, my angel.” Natasha whispers into the darkness of the bedroom, her lips flush against your temple as she works you up more, her fingers pulling and twisting at your nipples still hidden beneath a sweat drenched tank-top. You feel disgusting, sticky and slick with sweat and tears, but it’s not enough to pull you away from this moment, and when her hand, the one that hadn’t been permanently glued to your breasts, found your throat, nor squeezing but applying just enough pressure that it reaffirmed her gentle dominance over you, you gave into the orgasm that had been begging to be unleashed.
You didn’t have time to come down from that first high before Wanda was doubling her efforts between your legs, her fingers jackhammering into your entrance as her tongue traced circles and flicked at your once deprived bud of nerves. You shrieked, whining so petulantly that Natasha cooed sweetly against your temple and continued her gentle movements against your tits, pulling your tank top up just enough to reveal them to the cool breeze that swept through the room, accompanied by the low thrum of the air conditioner.
“No more! N-no more!” You attempted to squirm away from the undeniable pleasure Wanda was provoking, but to no avail did you succeed, weakened from hours of crying and arousal. Natasha remained by your side as Wanda scratched at your thigh and hips with the fingers that weren’t knuckles deep inside of your cunt, leaving faint pink marks in the wake of her grip and touch.
“You wanted to cum, puppy. You wanted Mommy to make you cum, so now you’re going to take it, okay? Can you do that?” Natasha hummed softly, kissing you again, an easy method of distracting you though you didn’t protest, eagerly reciprocating the kiss and assuring that her own world was painted in vibrant colors for the few seconds that she allowed your tongue to tangle with hers. “Good girl. My good girl. You’re doing so well. So well for Mommy.” She coaxed you through the second orgasm that tore through your belly at an accelerated pace, just barely able to contain her surprise as your core released an onslaught of juices aimed straight at Wanda’s face. A cry of humiliation left you, but it was soothed quickly by the woman between your legs, her tongue soothing the ache in your clit before it was gone entirely.
“Shh, we’re all done. All done.” Wanda’s mouth shone brightly beneath the moonlight with your arousal, her chin dripping as she leaned above you, offering her fingers which you eagerly took into her mouth. The taste of your core was prominent, familiar as you’d been in this position a few hundred times over, but it brought peace to your hazy mind and you melted firmly into Natasha now. “You did so good for me, my little princess. So so good. Mommy’s so proud of you.” She kissed you softly, replacing her fingers with her tongue that tasted so prominently of your orgasm and arousal that you couldn’t help the whine of submission that filled the air.
“What can I get you, princess? How about some goldfish because I’m sure Natasha didn’t take a break for lunch like I told her to.” Wanda sent a pointed glare at Natasha, who bashfully shrunk into herself and shrugged half-heartedly. Lunch had most definitely slipped her mind, and she cursed beneath her breath when she realized you’d put up a fit if she tried to drag you downstairs for dinner.
“Mommy stay.” You whined, attempting to reach out and pull Wanda down onto your body, but Natasha had already seen that coming, and had tangled her fingers with yours.
“Mommy will be back so soon, pretty baby. She’s going to get you some fishies and a water, and she’s going to grab your favorite blanket from downstairs, and Daddy’s gonna wipe you down and get you dressed in some comfy pajamas. How does that sound?” Natasha easily directed Wanda to gather all of the things you’d undoubtably ask for in a few minutes when the haze of your submission lessened and your tired muscles became apparent. The Sokovian didn’t linger, instead she jumped straight into action, leaving one last kiss against your lips before she disappeared downstairs, hoping you had enough energy to get at least a couple of crackers into your body before you fell asleep.
You only agreed because you hadn’t really had a choice to begin with, but still Natasha worked with your fussy attitude and got you wiped down with a damp washcloth and redressed in pajamas that were really just stolen pieces of her and Wanda’s casual attire. When the Sokovian returned, your favorite cup in her hands filled to the brim with room temperature water, you were cuddled into Natasha’s chest, biting softly at her fingertips as she attempted to keep you awake, some animated movie playing on the tv screen above the dresser on the wall opposite the large bed you occupied. She smiled softly, throwing a protein bar at Natasha’s head, before she took you into her arms, cuddling you into her chest, wrapping you tightly in your favorite throw blanket.
You nuzzled into her chest, begrudgingly taking a sip of water when she held the straw up to your lips persistently. It soothed your scratchy throat instantaneously, subsequently allowing your previous hours of screaming and moaning to become a distant memory until tomorrow morning when you woke without a voice. The goldfish she did not get so lucky with, offering a small handful to you as you zoned into the sound of her heath beating rhythmically beneath your ear and focused on the kaleidoscope of colors morphing across the tv screen. You whined, wiggling away from her hand rather fussily, and she knew better than to agitate you farther, so rather than keep persisting, she ate them herself and pulled you in closer, her heart and soft whispering to Natasha lulling you to sleep in minutes.
“You really have to stop forgetting to eat lunch.” Wanda sighed amusedly, bringing up the age-old concern that had a near prominent spot in their conversation log. Natasa laughed sheepishly, one hand falling onto the small of your back as you turned further into Wanda’s chest, while the other reached to turn off the obnoxious film you strangely adored.
“It’s not my fault when this one decides to camp out beneath my desk.” She weakly defended, laying a tender kiss to the back of your head, your hair smelling faintly of the shampoo she kept in the upstairs shower.
“Oh sure, blame her because she’s not awake to defend herself.” Wanda retorted, rolling her eyes in exasperated fondness as she tangled her fingers into your still disheveled hair, hoping that when morning rolled around, you’d still be soft enough to request that she did your hair before she left for the gallery.
Natasha paused, a wrinkle of affection twinging her expression before she leaned forward and embraced Wanda in a tender kiss above your head. “I love you.”
“I love you.” Wanda hummed against her lips, letting her eyes flutter closed as she took in the simplicity of this moment with the both of you.
#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#mommy!wanda maximoff x reader#dom!wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda maximoff fic#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#daddy!natasha romanoff x reader#dom!natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff fic#wandanat#wandanat x reader#dom!wandanat x reader#wandanat smut#wandanat fluff#wandanat fic#library 🂱
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Sugar
best friend!san x fem reader
Trigger warnings: none that i can think of
Content warnings: names (sweetheart, baby, sugar), oral (m&f receiving), choking (briefly), breeding, dacryphilia (kinda?), san’s got a big dick (what else is new) and is down horrendous for mc.
Summary: your best friend just can’t keep his hands to himself
Word count: 5.7k
A/N: hey babes! i finally finished it!!! its unpolished as fuck but it’s done!!! it’s only taken me forty-seven years 🥴 not saying this is a full comeback as i’m still dealing with some personal shit but i hope i’ll have something else for you relatively soon. anyways, pls reblog if you enjoy the story!! 🥰🫶🏻
Tags: @bahng-chrizz @foxinnie8
Smut below the cut
Most likely to remain high school sweethearts. That’s the yearbook superlative you and your best friend had been awarded your senior year of high school. The kicker? You had never dated him. The thought had just never crossed your mind. You were content being the hot best friends that everyone either wanted to get with or wanted to be. He wasn’t, but you didn’t know that.
Choi San had harbored the biggest crush on you since the two of you were fifteen. He’d gone through a hard breakup back then, his ex spreading rumors and lies all through school, and despite claiming he was fine because he was a player, he was heartbroken. He had been in love with the girl and she’d broken his heart and tried to ruin his reputation. So when you comforted him and confronted his ex, which ended in a cat fight in the hallway that got both of you suspended, he began to fixate on you. He dated around to keep his mind busy and off you, but he was infatuated with his best friend. With the girl who would throw down with anyone who wronged him.
He’d been heartbroken when he found out you were going away for college instead of staying local, even more so when he realized the school you’d chosen didn’t have the major he wanted. He was distraught at first, thinking you’d be too far apart to visit often. Every school he looked at seemed so far away from yours until he found the school where he was currently enrolled. This one was only an hour drive away from you and he was relieved to find that your schedule at your part time job still allowed for you two to take turns visiting each other every weekend.
You were oblivious to his feelings. You often noticed how he had trouble sleeping at your apartment but whenever you asked, he claimed he’d developed insomnia. He hadn’t, he just couldn’t sleep because of the thoughts that filled his mind from knowing you were in the next room. He felt guilty to be honest. He was constantly having dirty thoughts that normal people didn’t have about their best friend. Your mere presence reduced him to little more than a giddy, horny teenager.
You also noticed that he became more clingy after the two of you left for college but you never addressed that. He was always an affectionate person and adjusting to college life was definitely hard, so you figured it was probably that. That was part of it. But really, he just missed you. It was that simple. He missed his best friend and his heart leapt every time you opened your door or he opened his. Seeing your face made everything so much better.
Today was no different. He lit up like a neon sign when your door swung open to reveal you in a cropped white hoodie and a pair of black yoga pants, a bright smile on your face. “Sannie!” You held your arms open and he immediately stepped inside, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. Everything that had been bothering him up until that moment melted away as you hugged him, your grip tightening right before you stepped back. Oh how he loved your hugs.
You led him inside and motioned for him to sit on the sofa as you grabbed the bag of goodies you’d bought the night before. “I got your favorites.” You grinned as you rejoined him, opening the bag to show him the snacks, sodas, and alcohol you’d purchased. “Oh, also, my roommate is staying with her boyfriend this weekend so you can yell at the tv all you want, we don’t have to be quiet.”
He managed to conceal the excitement he felt at your words, knowing you didn’t mean what he was thinking. “Noted.” He hummed as he settled in. “Are we picking back up where we left off on that anime?”
“We can. I think we can finish the next season if we stay glued to the couch all weekend.” You hummed as you began to stage the snacks on the coffee table, only then realizing you’d forgotten glasses for the alcohol. “We can watch something else if you don’t want to watch that though. I’ve got some other streaming services if you wanna watch a drama.” You shrugged as you got up, heading to the kitchenette.
When you came back, he was sprawled out on your couch. His arms were resting on the back and he had the full man spread going on. He kind of resembled a starfish like that and you rolled your eyes as a smile tugged at your lips. You froze when he let out a low groan as he stretched, throwing his head back. Suddenly, images of you getting him off flashed in your mind. “Let’s watch that. We can watch a drama next weekend.”
You cleared your throat a bit and nodded as you recovered. “Okie dokie.” You singsonged as you joined him, sitting close enough that you could feel his body heat but still leaving enough space that you didn’t have those thoughts again. Where the fuck had that come from? You grabbed one of the bags of chips and settled in, his arm sliding down from the back of the couch to rest on your shoulders as you pulled up the show.
The episode started and you opened the bag, offering it up to San, who shook his head. “I’m good right now, sugar.” You shrugged and leaned into him, pulling your legs up underneath you. He tensed when he realized he’d called you something he’d only imagined calling you but you didn’t seem to mind so he forced himself to relax.
What you didn’t address was the surge of arousal that flooded your body. You were a bitch for pet names and he knew that. You weren’t sure why you were turned on by his words, though. It was San. Sure he was beautiful but he had never affected you like this before. Clearly it had been too long since the last time you’d slept with someone.
Your eyes locked on the screen and you focused solely on that for four episodes before you became aware of the ache in your joints. You’d managed to sit perfectly still for two hours straight and now your body was screaming at you to move. You gently shrugged San’s arm off your shoulders and stood as the fifth episode began, letting out a soft groan of appreciation as you stretched your muscles and cracked every joint you could.
The sound of your voice caught San’s attention and his eyes locked on the exposed portion of your back, wondering what it would feel like to press kisses there. Should I try and find out? Absolutely not. Why the fuck would you even think about that? Fucking dumbass. He shook his head and let out a sigh just as you turned to ask him if he needed anything from the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” You asked softly, noticing how irritated and distressed he looked.
“Huh?” His head snapped up and his jaw dropped slightly before he recovered. “Nothing, I’m fine.” He gave you a warm smile and you responded with a confused but playful wrinkle of your nose before heading off to grab a water. That was fucking close.
You opened the bottle and took a big gulp as you reentered the room, finding him sitting up properly now. He patted the spot next to him and you plopped down beside him, leaning back into his side, this time with your back to him. You brought your feet back up on the couch and took his hand, guiding his arm around your neck in a hug and tipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.
As you once again became enthralled with the show, his fingers absentmindedly traced shapes on the side of your neck. You shuddered at his touch every few minutes but didn’t register any of it as you focused on the tv. You whined a little when he moved his arm back to the back of the sofa but didn’t protest further, too invested in the show to care too much. You shifted to rest your head on San’s lap, grabbing one of the throw pillows to lay on.
With you stretched out like this, San was struggling to focus on the show. He was fixated on your exposed belly and began to discreetly drop his arm off the back of the couch towards your waist. He bit his lip as his hand made contact with your warm flesh, trying to appear focused on the show like you. You glanced up at him and took a moment to admire the view of his jawline before poking his chin. He looked startled and almost guilty when his gaze met yours. “What’s up with you today?” You asked in a teasing tone. “You seem extra cuddly and touchy-feely.”
“What, I can’t be touchy-feely with my best friend?” He grinned down at you and something in you shifted. “I just missed you. We used to see each other every day and for the last two years we’ve only been able to see each other on weekends.”
“Simpler times.” You sighed and turned your attention back to the screen, not bothering to move his hand. It felt nice.
He was surprised that you hadn’t swatted him away but he certainly wasn’t about to complain when you were delicately tracing shapes on the back of his hand. His heart was pounding and he was thankful you hadn’t continued with that line of questioning because he wasn’t sure if he could form a coherent sentence at this point. He should’ve known better than to start to get comfortable though. The second his hand wandered a bit higher, you grabbed his wrist and he froze. Fuck.
“That’s more than touchy-feely, San, that was almost my titty.” You didn’t appear to move your attention from the tv but all you could think about was just how close his hand was to your chest. What had gotten into him? And why were you so affected by his touch? You were just friends…right?
“Oh…sorry.” He mumbled, trying to appear nonchalant despite his internal panic. You didn’t buy it though and looked up at him again, taking note of his flaming cheeks. Cute.
“Seriously, San, what’s actually going on with you?” You hated how harsh your voice came out. You hated the way he flinched at your words. You weren’t trying to scold him, you wanted to put out feelers.
“Nothing.” He shook his head and refused to look at you. You thought for a moment before biting your lip. You clearly didn’t buy it and wanted to ask if he was thinking what you were so suddenly thinking. You were about to speak up when he continued. “I’m just tired. Come cuddle.” He opened his arms.
“Tired already?” He nodded. “Must suck to be any woman you fuck.” You snorted.
“I’ll have you know I have excellent stamina, thank you.” He fired back instantly and you laughed. There he was.
“I’ll believe it when I see it, gramps.”
“Is that an invitation, sweetheart?” You were almost taken aback at his tone, as you’d only heard him use it when he was actively trying to bed someone.
“San-” He just laughed and shook his head as if to assure you he was only teasing. Somehow that bothered you more. Desire had already begun to pool between your legs. You gave a little huff and released his wrist, which you’d been holding this whole time, abruptly sitting up as you swatted his hand away. You turned to look at him as the pillow you’d been resting on toppled from his lap, exposing the semi he was rocking. So he actually did want you. “Yeah, actually, it is.” He sat in stunned silence and you bit the inside of your lip to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, only speaking once you had successfully concealed your grin. “What? Did you think I’d get flustered and back off?” You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side, your tone almost mocking.
“Yeah, kin-”
“Cute.” You cut him off and placed a hand on his thigh as you leaned towards him, your gaze flicking towards his lips for a brief moment before lifting back to his eyes, which still refused to actually look at you. “Tell me, Sannie, how long did it take you to work up the courage to try and feel me up?”
“I wasn’t-”
“Oh come on.” You rolled your eyes, your hand trailing a bit higher on his thigh as your voice dipped a bit. “You’re already half hard, clearly you were trying to get something out of me.” He squirmed at both your words and your touch, suddenly trying to squeeze his thighs together as he avoided eye contact in favor of staring at your hand, which he felt was far too close to his crotch for him to properly think.
He didn’t get a chance to respond before you spoke up again. “It’s never crossed my mind before, but now that I’m thinking about it, there’s so many things I could do to you, Sannie.” You whispered as you moved your hand away from the swell in his gray sweats and moved to straddle his lap. “What do you think? Should I?” You rolled your hips, grinding against his hard on, and he nodded far too quickly for his liking.
“Please do…” He whispered back, finally meeting your eyes. “Anything you want. ‘M all yours.” You got the feeling he wasn’t just referring to the current moment but you weren’t in any state to be asking for clarification.
You weren’t sure if you were prepared for the ramifications of fucking your best friend but you would have to deal with that later. The ache between your legs required immediate attention. You carded your fingers through his hair before turning your hand into a fist and tugging his head back. Your other hand rested on his neck as you caught his lips in a demanding kiss. The whimper that slipped past his lips went straight to your pussy and you shivered, leaning into his touch when his hands moved to your ass.
He was short circuiting. He was finally getting the chance to touch you and you weren’t pushing him away. In fact, you were the one initiating it. He licked over your bottom lip but you refused him entry, taking the chance to nibble on his lip instead. He gasped against your lips and you smirked, subconsciously tightening your grip on his hair.
“I never pegged you as the submissive type, Sannie.” You teased and he frowned against your lips, clearly pouting. Despite being a switch, he was more dominant than submissive. He was just following your lead because he’d dreamt about this for ages and he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice to you. I’ve been told I’m almost too gentle.”
He whined at your ribbing and you chuckled softly as you pulled back, moving to sit on the floor between his legs. His eyes followed your every movement. You sat on your knees and pushed his oversized tee up a bit to admire his toned stomach before hooking your fingers in the waistband of his sweats. You tugged them down, his now-fully-hard cock springing free and slapping against his belly. “No underwear? Must’ve been real confident things would play out like this, huh?”
“No, actually. I just rarely wear them.” He rolled his eyes and you made a face. He seemed to be getting bolder and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. You were having fun with him. If he decided to take over…well, you doubted that would happen but you might have a brat on your hands.
You didn’t respond, just finished pulling his pants to his ankles, took his dick in your hand, and licked the head. His head tipped back as he let out a surprisingly deep groan and your previous visions came rushing back to you. He looked and sounded just as pretty as you imagined when you took him in your mouth.
“Holy fucking shit, y/n…” He groaned, one hand moving to rest on his belly, holding his shirt up while the other curled into a fist on the sofa. You hummed at his reaction and continued, taking him as far as you could manage. You gagged a little around him and he hissed, his hips jerking a fraction of an inch before he could stop himself. “S-sorry. ‘M sorry, y/n. Didn’t mean to.”
You giggled softly at his apology and he bit his lip, looking down at you. You bobbed your head as your gaze met his and he damn near lost his mind. You looked so pretty with his cock in your mouth. He wanted the image burned in his memory for the rest of his life. Who knew when or if he’d get the chance to do this again?
Given how you responded to his accidentally fucking your face, he decided to experimentally roll his hips. He almost met God when the tip slipped down your throat and you gagged around him, swallowing harshly as you tried but failed to relax your throat. You’d never deepthroated before and it showed as you tried to recover, tears filling your eyes and quickly overflowing to your cheeks. He gently pulled you off and wiped your cheeks, cooing at you as you coughed. “Breathe for me, sugar.” You nodded and took a deep breath, letting him dry your face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what possessed me to do that. Are you okay?”
You nodded again and offered a small smile. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I don’t wanna go full send and hurt you or-”
“I’m fine, Sannie. I promise.” He finally nodded after a few beats of silence and you tilted your head, eyes narrowing as you studied him for a moment. “Now, what’s with the name? You said it earlier too.”
He looked panicked at first before a grin crept onto his face. “Well, I would call you honey since you’re so sweet, but I feel like that’s a bit overdone, don’t you agree?” You shrugged in agreement and he leaned down, taking your jaw in his hand and jerking you closer. He was a breath away and you were going haywire. “I wonder if your personality is all that’s sweet.”
“What are you saying?” You asked quietly, surprising both of you at just how quickly you’d folded with a single rough touch. So much for him not taking over.
“I wanna taste you, y/n.” He moved to whisper in your ear and your breath hitched. “Every. Single. Inch.” He punctuated his words by kissing and licking up the side of your neck, then biting down softly on your earlobe and drawing out a tiny whimper.
You squeezed your thighs together and closed your eyes for a moment. You grounded yourself with a deep breath before opting to respond by simply tugging at his cock, teasing the head with your thumb. The groan he let out scratched an itch in your brain you never knew existed and his grip on your jaw grew tighter as he inhaled your scent.
“Get up.” You blindly followed his command, standing when he backed away. He didn’t speak as he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and stood with you, hauling you over his shoulder before starting for your room. You squeaked in surprise but didn’t fight, a smile creeping across your face.
You couldn’t stifle the giggle that slipped out when he kissed your side. It shouldn’t have tickled as much as it did.
San had an idea of the things you liked, you’d both talked about your escapades enough, so it came as no surprise to you when he gently placed you on your feet only to grab you by the throat and push you back onto the bed. Still, a thrill ran through your body as you wrapped your hands around his wrist. You sucked in a gasp just before he began to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, your eyes rolling back.
You felt his breath on your face as he leaned down to crash his lips against yours. Your hands left his arm and moved to his shirt, pulling him as close as possible. As he slipped his tongue into your mouth, he slowly relieved the pressure on your throat, allowing blood flow to return to normal and give you a head rush. You moaned into the kiss and wrapped your legs around his waist in a desperate attempt to keep him close when he started to pull away.
“I’ve always wanted to do that…” His voice was a low rumble that made your panties uncomfortably wet. “Always wanted to try everything you mentioned being into. The choking, the biting, the breeding…everything.”
If you weren’t aware of your panties sticking to your folds before, you were after that. “Please do.” You exhaled, trying to pull him back in even as he righted himself between your legs. “All of it. Whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want?” He raised an eyebrow as his hands moved to rest on your hips and you nodded. “Anything?”
“Anything.” You nodded again and bit down on your bottom lip when he rocked his hips, the blunt head of his cock smearing precum across your yoga pants as he rubbed against you. “Please…”
He didn’t speak as his hands slid up your sides, fingers inching under the hem of your hoodie and ghosting over your cool skin. He reached higher still until his hands cupped your breasts. “No bra? Must've been real confident things would play out like this, huh?”
You rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh as the conversation from only a few minutes prior repeated itself. “No, actually. I just rarely wear one.”
“Take it off.” He groaned in response, pushing your hoodie up so your chest was entirely exposed. You sat up, which took a bit of effort given your legs were draped over his thick thighs, and pulled the surprisingly-thin material over your head. He immediately knocked you back and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, propping on one arm while his free hand wandered along your belly.
Your arms wrapped around him, one hand moving to his back while the other tangled in his faded pink locks. He’d dyed his hair magenta a few weeks back and it had since lost its vibrancy - though not before staining a few towels and his pillowcase. You gave his hair a gentle tug and he groaned into your mouth, sending a wave of electricity down your spine.
He began to trail kisses along your jaw and neck as his hand cupped your breast, his thumb swiping back and forth over your nipple. You pushed your chest into his touch, head tipping back as your back arched. Your breath hitched when he brought his kisses to your chest, lips encasing your nipple as his tongue flicked back and forth. “Sannie-” You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening. His hand gave your other breast equal attention, lightly pinching and rolling your nipple before swapping sides.
You couldn’t say you’d ever been curious about what it would be like to sleep with San but you were certain his skills would exceed his reputation if he already had you drenched with minimal effort. You wondered if he could feel the wet patch between your legs, starting to soak through your yoga pants.
He could. He found himself eager to bury his head between your legs despite being determined to take his time with you. He worried he’d disappoint you if he moved too quickly but he still began his descent, peppering sloppy kisses down your belly as his fingers hooked in your waistband. He took your pants and panties both in one go as he moved off the bed. You didn’t miss his sharp inhale.
“Y/N…” Your face flushed red as he knelt between your legs, gaze locked on your glistening cunt. You wanted to tell him not to stare, to urge him along, but you couldn’t seem to break your silence. Finally, you lifted your head and he met your eyes, his own eyes widening in something akin to adoration, though more intense. “Is this all for me, sugar?” There was that name again. You nodded eagerly but he shook his head. “Words.”
You frowned a bit, annoyed that he was making you speak up when he could just take one look at you and know. Of course, you knew he wouldn’t give in so you gave a soft whine before speaking. “Yes, Sannie, it’s all yours.”
You didn’t know why you were so against speaking up. The sound he made the second you did respond made you clench around nothing. He noticed, of course, and let out a low groan as he hooked your legs over his shoulders and kissed your thigh. “May I touch?”
“Please do.” You whispered and caught your lip between your teeth.
He continued to litter your thighs with messy kisses and soft bites as his fingertips teased their way up to your pussy, never once breaking eye contact. Your head fell back to the sheets as soon as you felt him run a finger through your folds, gathering up some of your arousal. He moved torturously slowly, rubbing feather-light circles on your clit before easing one digit into you.
“You’re drenched, baby…” His voice, though painfully sexy, was full of wonder and amusement.
“Your fault…” You mumbled and he chuckled softly.
One finger wasn’t enough. You needed more. He could tell and you felt him smirk against your skin as he curled his finger. You let out a soft sigh at the action but he wasn’t satisfied and so he added another finger, and another when you still didn’t give him the response he wanted.
“Fuck this cunt’s gonna feel so good-” He sighed.
Now three fingers deep, he began his search for your g-spot. It didn’t take him very long if your embarrassingly loud moan was anything to go by. “So fucking pretty, baby.” He groaned, suppressing another sound when you clenched around his fingers. “You like it when I call you pretty? Or was it ‘baby’?” He teased.
“Both.” It was all you could muster as he leaned in and flicked his tongue over your clit. You immediately brought a hand up to your mouth to stifle your sounds but he pulled back and nipped at your thigh.
“Let me hear.” At that point, you had no fight left in you. You just wanted him to touch you and you’d do anything to get your way. You gave a nod, a small ‘okay’ slipping from your lips, and he slowly leaned back in, lips closing around your clit. He sucked and you let out a soft curse, bringing your hands to your chest to knead at the soft flesh of your breasts. He groaned in appreciation and set a slow pace, working you up with his fingers while his tongue traced different shapes over your clit.
You suddenly felt ridiculous for never having wondered if he truly lived up to his reputation. He was proving to you just how good he was and you were cursing yourself for never having thought about having his head between your legs. “Sannie- oh-” You keened, one hand flying to tangle in his hair once more as he pressed against your g-spot at the same time as he sucked on your clit. You wouldn’t last long like this. He was too good.
Your toes curled as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his tongue dipping into you occasionally in place of his fingers. Your muscles ached with the tension that was building but you knew you wouldn’t be relaxed until he made you cum. Hoping to encourage him to get you off faster so he’d fuck you, you began babbling praises, only inflating his ego.
He made sure you felt his appreciative groan before pulling back for a quick breath then diving back in, tongue flicking with vigor. His cock throbbed as he inhaled your scent and his eyes rolled back briefly. He wanted more of you. All of you. So when you announced you were close, he backed away entirely and smirked. “Not yet, baby.”
“Sannie, what the fuck?” You whined indignantly, lifting your head when he sat up between your legs.
“Decided I want you to cum on my cock instead.” He shrugged, moving up the bed to catch your lips in a kiss. You were surprised by how sweet the kiss was considering how feral he’d just been acting over your pussy but you welcomed it, tugging him closer with a soft groan as you tasted yourself.
“So fuck me then.” You whispered between kisses, lapping your juices off his lips a moment later. The whole scenario was filthy and intoxicating.
“You mean like this?” He grunted as he slid into you with ease. Your jaw dropped and you gasped at the stretch. He fit perfectly, like you were made for each other - a thought that both terrified and intrigued you. He wasted no time in setting a slow, deep pace, each thrust driving you up the bed with the force.
“Just like that, Sannie.” You nodded furiously, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders while your other hand twisted the sheets by your head.
San was on another planet. He finally had you. You, the girl of his dreams ever since he was fifteen. He was finally fully sheathed inside your warmth and he never wanted to leave. He’d give anything to stay with you.
He hadn’t intended to babble that out loud and realized his error when you responded.
“Yeah? Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Then fuck me harder and treat me like the most precious thing you’ve ever held.”
It was an easy ask. He had no problem cherishing you. Even as his hips began to snap harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping filling the room, he showered you with kisses and words of adoration. “So fucking good, baby. Do you have any clue how long I’ve wanted to feel this perfect little pussy? To make you fall apart on my cock?”
“Tell me, Sannie. Tell me how long you’ve wanted me.”
“God- ever since we were in school. It was so hot the way you fucked her up for hurting me and I’ve wanted you ever since.” His admission sent a thrill rushing through you and you clenched involuntarily, earning a low groan from him.
“And you held it together for that long? Fuck, Sannie, you- oh-” The tip of his cock just barely kissed your cervix but it was enough to make your thighs squeeze his hips.
“Shit, baby, you keep that up and I’ll cum…”
“Then keep fucking me just like that.” You demanded, back arching as he dipped his head down to lick and suck on your chest. He caught your nipple in his mouth and allowed his teeth to graze the stiff peak, grunting against your skin when your walls fluttered in response. “Want you to cum inside as many times as you can until you make me cum.” It wasn’t a demand or a plea, it was just a simple fact but he was eager to comply with your wishes.
“Christ, y/n, you’re killing me…” San groaned, resting his forehead on your chest as his hips pistoned relentlessly. He pulled back just enough to look up at you and you could tell by his expression just how close he was. “You really want that? Want me to breed you like a good little cocksleeve and keep filling you up over and over until you fall apart for me?”
Your nod and whimper were the only convincing he needed. He let go instantly, stars dancing behind his eyes as he pumped you full of cum. This was all he’d wanted for the better part of a decade and he was on cloud nine over finally getting you.
He briefly pulled out and flipped you over, taking a moment to watch a bead of cum drip down your folds before he slammed back into you. He might regret this later given how sensitive he was but he needed to give you anything you asked for.
Your back arched as he hit your sweet spot and you let out a soft cry. “There! Just like that!”
It didn’t take long before he felt another orgasm building. He warned you and you demanded he continue, begging him to give it to you. His cock twitched and he let go at your behest, filling you all over again.
Before he was finished, he reached around to roll your clit between his thumb and forefinger. He delighted in the squeal you let out and did it again, tears welling in his eyes from all the sensation.
“Oh god, Sannie, I’m so close!” You cried, your thighs trembling as your orgasm threatened to wash over you.
“Cum for me, sugar.” His voice was a low rumble in your ear, hoarse with unshed tears, and you couldn’t hold back. You let out another squeal as he toyed with your clit, tipping you over the edge. Your high hit you like a bus and you let out a sob of ecstasy as your pussy clamped down on San’s leaking cock.
You felt a tear fall on your back and gently pushed him back, forcing yourself to roll over. “You okay?” You asked softly as you pulled him to you, still buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“‘M fucking perfect.” He offered a lazy smile as he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.
“Mm then what’s this?” You teased as you pulled back, wiping a tear from his cheek.
“Proof that I’ve met my match.” He chuckled softly and wiped his face dry. “Seriously, that was…fucking amazing.”
“It was. Can someone explain to me why we didn’t do this sooner?”
“Who knows.” He shrugged and flopped down beside you, then pulled you to lay on top of him. “But I say we do this every weekend, sugar.” He laughed deeply when you swatted his chest in response but deep down you knew this was more than a one time occurrence.
#kpop smut#ateez#ateez smut#ateez x reader#choi san#choi san smut#choi san x reader#alura’s works#pls reblog if you enjoy this!!
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what we do in the shadows - e.m. x fem!reader
author's note: did anyone else play hide and seek in the dark with their friends in high school? there was something exhilarating about hiding in the shadows with your crush; hands wandering closer, fingertips brushing, secret kisses that no one could see or ever found out about. note: reader and eddie are 21+ in this little blurbo.
i hope you enjoy <3 this was written on a whim and lightly edited so if you see mistakes...no you didn't :)
w/c: 1.5k
warnings: oral - reader receiving, unprotected p in v, praise kink, sex in public (somewhat), let me know if i missed anything.
The house is quiet, the sound of your breathing jagged and uneven as you try to steady it.
In the distance, you can hear boards creek under the weight of Steve Harrington’s reeboks as he creeps around his house.
The rest of the gang is hidden somewhere within the Harrington home. Scattered in various spaces, under kitchen tables, or behind shower curtains for a late-night game of hide and seek in the dark you’d agreed to after one too many drinks.
Eddie’s lips press down your neck, creating a line of electricity as he trails kisses over your collarbone and to the tops of your breasts. Tongue lavishing over your supple flesh as he kneads your heavy flesh through your bra.
You’d secretly been hooking up for the past few months, though the rest of your friends don't know. At least you don’t think they do.
Robin had her suspicions, would eye the two of you if a glance seemed too longing or too loaded. She’d peppered you with questions, but you’d deflected, simply saying that you and Eddie weren’t any closer than you were to the other guys.
Your head tilts back as he pushes down your bra, pulling one of your nipples between his lips and circling his tongue over the pebbled flesh.
Definitely, not any closer than the rest of your friends.
Eddie spins you around suddenly, back pressed to his chest, and pins your hands on either side of your head. His mouth beginning its descent.
His plush lips press over your clothes, felt through the thin fabric of your shirt as he moves lower, lower, lower until he reaches the hem of your mini skirt.
His hands laze over your ass cheeks, gripping and squeezing where his palms itch to slap.
Doing his best to remain quiet as the game continues somewhere in the large home.
Eddie pushes up your skirt, swallowing a growl when you’re revealed to him—the swell of your ass highlighted by the pale moonlight streaming through the slits of Steve’s closet.
His teeth graze the fat of your ass, and you arch into his touch, chin pressing to your shoulder as you turn to watch him.
Munson’s wide hands spread you apart, revealing more of you to him.
He pushes his face closer, burying it into your clothed center. Inhaling deeply, biting back a groan at your intoxicating scent.
You hold in a whine as his tongue pushes against the thin edge of your pink thong, its warmth felt against your slick heat as he prods further until there’s nothing separating his mouth from your pussy.
He moans against your skin as he tastes your tangy slick and reaches to push your panties to the side to taste you fully.
“Oh-,” you begin to whine as he licks a stripe down your folds, but he shushes you softly.
“We can’t get caught, sweetheart, or the game’ll be over,” he whispers, “you don’t want to be interrupted, do you?”
You shake your head swiftly, gaze trained on his as his mouth moves back to your wet heat.
He’s like a man starved as his tongue drags over your pussy, his hands holding you spread open as he buries his face deeper.
Your fingers curl into his hair, gripping and holding his face to you. The sharp edge of your teeth digs into your bottom lip when he stretches your aching cunt over his tongue. It darts in and out of you as his callused fingers rub circles against your clit.
Fuck, it feels so good but the stretch of his tongue isn’t enough.
You need him.
You tug his hair and pull his face to yours, hungry lips pressed to his as you unbutton his jeans. Humming when you taste yourself on his mouth.
“Need to feel you,” you whisper, your hand pushing into the tops of his jeans and wrapping around his thick cock. Pumping him slowly, relishing the way he grunts, hips following your hand movements.
He needs you just as badly and wastes no time turning you back around, hiking your leg up.
Your hips wiggle in anticipation against his lap as you wait.
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Steve’s words are singsong, growing louder as he approaches the room.
Eddie places a hand over your mouth so Harrington can’t hear you as his tip nudges against your entrance.
Slowly, he inches into you. Stretching you over his cock in an agonizing pace as he grips your hips to steady himself, dropping his palm from your mouth when he hears Steve’s footsteps begin to retreat.
A moan climbs into your throat and you press your lips together, swallowing it down as you take every inch of him until he’s fully seated deep inside of you.
“Think you can be quiet for me?” he whispers, his voice affected. Warm breath fanning your skin and you nod.
“Good girl,” he presses a kiss to your jaw. Fingers squeezing your hips tighter when you clench around him at the sound of his praise.
Eddie inches out of you and back in, picking up his pace with each long stroke of his cock making it more difficult not to moan.
To hold back the way you want to scream his name.
He lifts your leg higher and hooks your foot on his shoulder, practically splitting you in half. Palm spread wide over your thigh and fingers digging into your skin as his cock pumps into you, the tip pressing into your spongy center.
The lewd squelching of your pussy fills the small closet, reverberating off the walls as Eddie sets a brutal pace.
Pumping in and out of you, the smack of your skin against his is loud with every thrust.
Neither of you really thinking about getting caught, not really caring if you do.
You reach down, eager fingers pressing against your sensitive bud in mean circles chasing the orgasm that was building in your center and ready to unfurl.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, swallowing down a groan as he watches you and you clench around him again.
“So fucking pretty, so fucking good for me,” he praises, pulling your shirt down so he can watch the way your tits bounce with every pump of his dick.
The muscles in your body strain, eyes snapping shut as waves of pleasure crash against you and it takes everything in you not to moan his name as you come undone.
Eddie loses control as your pussy flutters around his cock, pumping into you one last time before filling you with his release.
The feeling of him coating your walls making your eyes roll, goosebumps sprouting against your skin.
The two of you stay connected, his dick softening inside of you as each of you try to catch your breaths.
He leans over and kisses you softly, slowly pulling out of you until you’re missing the stretch of him. His come leaking out of you and soaking into your panties.
Eddie releases your leg, guiding it down until you’re standing on two feet and pulling down your skirt.
He adjusts himself, buttoning his jeans and straightening his shirt.
Both of you still as footsteps approach, a mingling of whispers right outside the door and you listen. The latch clicks softly as someone pushes it open, the wood creaking before the knob hits the wall.
It’s not that either of you were ashamed of the other, you liked sneaking around. The chaste kisses, hidden touches, secret hookups.
It gave you a rush of adrenaline every time you were almost caught except this time it seemed you were.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Your heart hammers as they near, round eyes transfixed on the closet door Eddie had left slightly ajar.
Steve throws it open, eyes going wide when he finds both you and Eddie hiding in the dark.
“Dude, in my closet?” He grumbles, glancing between you and the metalhead.
“I fucking knew it!” Robin comes up behind Steve, needing to see for herself.
Instead of shrinking away, Eddie grabs your hand and slots his fingers between yours.
“Yeah, yeah. Eat it up now. We’re dating.”
Heat grows in your cheeks at his words, he hadn’t exactly ever asked you but you weren’t going to disagree. You’d spent plenty of nights together doing more than just fucking that it felt official in some capacity.
Your hand squeezes his and you look up to your friends.
But the news doesn’t phase them.
“You both still owe me twenty dollars,” Robin shrugs and follows them out of the room to search for Jonathan and Argyle.
Eddie turns to you and chuckles, rubbing an affectionate thumb against the apple of your cheek.
“Guess the cat’s outta the bag,” he muses, tracing his nose against yours.
“Guess so,” you whisper against his lips.
“You okay with what I said?” And you nod.
“More than,” you press your lips to his but Steve rounds back to the room before it can grow any more heated.
“No, no, no. You’re not fucking in my room or in its vicinity again,” he grabs the two of you and leads you out of the doors.
#queue queue#el is on vacation#eddie munson#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson smut#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson x fem oc#eddie munson x fem!reader smut
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𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞
━━ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑛𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒𝑟 .ᐟ toji.
warnings 𑄽𑄺 18.9K word count. moving man! snake catcher! toji, third person omniscient pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, shower sex, rough sex, sweet sex, sweet talkin’, squirting, oral [f] ,choking, praising, fingering, LOTS of dirty talk, a lil degrading?, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, aggressive toji, sweetie toji, minors aren’t welcome!
song to play while listening; 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡’𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ; 𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑒
━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ hey guys, it’s been a while, life has been a pain. but i wanted to give you something sweet, cute, hot. so here you go. i love you. 🫶🏽
SHE SHOULD’VE BOUGHT CURTAINS. That’s a thought that crossed her mind, scanning through the front window that looked out into the yard. The sun was creating a warmth into the kitchen—these were things she definitely wouldn’t miss living in this house.
There weren’t many things she would miss, but if she could think of anything she’d probably think of the happier moments. She could remember the smiles they shared between each other, the giggles that released from her lips as he made her laugh, the joy of showing her child what a family oriented household could be. All that was about to change.
Her attention was pulled away from the window, a voice coming behind her. A hum of approval released from the person’s lips as they held a wine glass within their hand, allowing the sweetness of the liquid to ignite their taste buds.
“You may have a horrible taste in men, but you damn sure have a good tongue for wine.”
She turns her head at her older sister, Serena, then continuing to lean against the window with a soft shake to her head. Her sister was never the type to hold her mouth to anything or anyone—she always reminded her of just how bad she was at identifying a toxic relationship.
“Do you really think right now is the time to be shitting on me?”
“When will it be a good time for you to hear the truth?”
That makes her go silent. It’s not that she wasn’t grown up enough to face reality, but she’d done enough crying about the matter of it all—being divorced at twenty-seven wasn’t something she expected. She’d known her ex-husband since she was twenty-two, falling immensely in love with one another, talking up hopes and dreams of being together forever. He showed her things no other man hadn’t, sweeping her off her feet so well that she immediately agreed to marrying him. It could’ve also been the fact that she was pregnant at the time, but she pushed that thought to the side.
Having someone to call home had its pro’s, but it also had its many—many cons. As the years had gone by, she learned him. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, for sickness. But only being able to part ways by death wasn’t something she wanted with him, realizing he had a life made for her that she didn’t want for herself, always wanting to make choices for her. Fuck that.
As she stared down at the princess cut on her ring finger, she thought to herself—she didn’t even like princess cut designed jewelry. He did.
Her sister then speaks again, “Say, when is that moving company supposed to get here? Did you catch the name of any of the guys?”
She shook her head in response, “Uh—“ checking the email as she reads, “Fushiguro, that’s the last name of the owner.”
“Is he hot?” her sister questions, smirk along her lips.
She blinks, turning towards her as she asks, “And why would that matter?”
“Well—“ Serena takes another sip of her drink, “You’re a divorcè before the age of thirty, you’re still attractive, and you’re basically a widow! I think you should hop on the next dick the second you get the chance.”
Shaking her head at her opinionated sibling, she disagrees, “Nope, no. I’m just gonna work on bringing my regular customers back in, and focus on Sai—your niece, by the way, did you forget that my child is more important than some dick, Serena?”
“What about you though? When are you going out to have some fun? Look, I’m not saying you should hook-up the first nigga you see, but I’m just saying your life shouldn’t be entirely fufilled between your business and daughter.”
She sighs, “I wanna have fun, I’m not a grandma. But we haven’t even gotten out of this miserable ass house yet. Let me just—decompress for a bit. You know Nathan would die before I had another man around Sai so soon,” she recalls, sighing as she reaches onto the kitchen counter to grab a glass, beginning to pour some wine for herself.
Thankfully getting off of her case, Serena then pulls back with a sigh, “Okay—Okay, I’ll get off your ass about it,” She holds up her hands in defense, “Just giving you some advice! Don’t want you to be an old spinster-ass-bitch!”
“Girl, fuck you.”
The both of them laugh together, humor becoming their common ground as the tension within the room falters. As they continue to talk, they notice as a steel black semi-truck pulls to the front of the driveway from the window. It’s not what either of them expected, a bright and bold serpent painted against the vehicle, yellow eyes almost three dimensional.
“I think the moving people are here…” Serena mutters, her eyes peeking over to the window.
At the same time, the sound of tiny feet smacking along the floor catches their attention. A pink tutu romper appears within both women’s eyes, Sai holding a doll within her hand as she raises her arms to be carried upwards.
Serena watches as her younger sister playfully groans, pulling her up onto her hip as she smiles, “And what are you so excited for?”
“Look, mommy, we have visitors!” Sai calls, pointing out the window.
They all looked back to the moving truck that parked just in-front of the house. When the door opens from the semi, Serena’s eyes could’ve popped out of her head.
She notices her face as she questions, “What?”
“Oh bitch, yo’ moving man is fine as hell!”
Serena nearly trips as she gets closer to the window, almost pressing her face against the glass as she watches. It causes her younger sister to frown, placing her daughter back along the ground to figure out what she was going on about.
“Girl, what the hell are you talking about—“
She halts. Her eyes follow through the window as she watches a man, no—a man step out of the large truck. She wasn’t sure if he was as pretty as an angel, or devilishly attractive. The black muscle tee and overalls he wears compliment his olive skin, the dark ink of his tattoos spread all across his large arms and what looks to be his chest, traveling beneath the fabric of his shirt. He’s tall and broad, nearly stretching everything he wears. She takes notice of a serpent tattoo that swirls around his left arm—similar to the symbol on the truck—starting from his shoulder and slithering down to his palm. She follows up to a strident face, strong jaw, full pink lips—not to mention the immense amount of ink along his neck— coming all the way up to onyx hair, a cigarette poking from his scarred lip. His dark eyebrows make a natural frown, trying desperately to hide him from the sun.
Serena squints deeply beneath the sun hitting them as she whispers, “Who the fuck… is that? Oh—oh my god… who the hell did you hire, a moving man or an assassin?”
She frowns, “Why an assassin?”
“Cause he can kill this—“
“Aye!” She smacks her arm, “Sai is literally right here, dumbass!”
Serena rubs her arm as she pouts, “My bad. Damn.”
The two women in the window continue eyeing him, up until they don’t realize how hard they’re staring. The demon that essentially walks along their property takes notice of them from a distance, and he unexpectedly raises his arm with a smirk, giving a short but almost shy wave.
She turns back towards Serena and asks, “Uh…where’s Nathaniel? Did he leave?”
“Hm?” Her sister looks back at her, and her face drops into a disgusted look, “Oh—ugh—Right. Almost forgot about that prick…”
As she mutters to herself, the moving man begins unloading a few boxes from the truck, glancing back over towards the front window, and he notices both women looking out at him again.
He raises a dark brow to himself, setting the boxes down at the doorstep before he heads up to the front door. From the window, both the sisters could see his muscles flexing through his tight attire and the sweat that gleamed along them—and all that ink.
She makes a noise as she feels herself being pushed by Serena who exclaims, “Go open the door, stupid!”
Rolling her eyes, she calls to her daughter as she says, “Baby girl, go up to your room, please?”
It happened all in a matter of seconds. Before she can process her daughter’s reaction to her question, Sai’s already running towards the front door, swinging it open which causes both women to call out her name.
“Sai!”
Once the door was open, the man almost immediately looked down at her, as if he’d seen her running through the house to be defiant. A smirk grew on his face as he squatted down, pulling the cigarette from his mouth to greet the child.
He gives a little wave, “Hey, cutie. And who might you be?”
From what both women could hear, his voice was deep and very…hot.
Sai stared up at the tall man, holding her doll close to her chest as she held the door with her small fingers. Her small voice then greeted, “I’m Sai. I live here with my mommy.”
The man hums, still smiling as he crouches down to her level. He had a very muscular build but he looked surprisingly friendly, especially as scary as his stature was.
“Sai… that’s a very pretty name for a pretty girl…” he chuckles, “Your mother around?”
Taking a deep breath, she appears around the corner as she gently grabs for her daughter’s hand, turning her eyes back towards the man that looked even better up close. She gets a good look at him as he stands up fully, towering over her in a way she hadn’t expected. But just like her shock, he seemed to be in a state of awe—she just couldn’t see that.
Her brown skin was a russet tone from the sun, freckles blown all around her face as her slender toffee eyes stared at him in curiosity. Dark eyebrows that arched as if she was mad or in deep thought, middle parted onyx hair that flowed in crimped waves down her back. She was different from most women he’d seen. Her pierced nose that sparkled in the light, the face tattoo on the left side of her dark and fluffy lashes. Jewelry roamed all around both of her ears, fingers, wrists. She was like a fairy. She was ethereal.
What really stood out to him was the flower cascaded tattoo that started from her neck, traveling all the way down to her right arm, almost similar to his. He could see it from under the blue and sea green dress she wore, the material backless and having a low dip between her breasts. She was sensual, even if she just stood there.
“You can’t just be opening the door, baby,” she lightly scolds her daughter, bringing her eyes up to him as she exhales, “I’m sorry. You um—must be the movers. Fushiguro, right?”
The man still halts to take in her beauty as she stands before him. She was… stunning. His eyes glance over her body, focusing on the tattoo that traveled down her arm, his mind trying to get a glimpse of what was on her hidden skin. He almost forgets what he had to say as he just… stared at her.
He finally speaks after he comes back to his senses, “Yeah, that’s right. But you can just call me Toji,” he answers.
“Stoney,” she introduces, placing her hand out to him.
The man behind Toji then asks, “That’ your real name?”
She blinks, not answering for a moment. She then replies, “Got charged back in high school for throwing a rock at a girl. She lived.”
Toji chuckles at her words as he takes her hand with his own, large and rough to the touch. He takes notice of her jewelry and small hands.
“Stoney… that’s a real unique name too,” his co-worker comments again, watching as Toji’s hand lingers against hers for a few seconds longer.
He glances behind him when the other guy speaks up and Toji rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Shut up already,” he mutters before looking back at her, “Anyway, where should we take your things?”
“Sorry, um—do you mind just holding on? My ex-husband should be here soon. He’s the one paying so…I just don’t want you working for free.”
“We have to get a move along,” the man behind Toji says, Stoney looking behind him.
She puts her hair behind her ear as she nods, “Right. I’m sorry.”
Toji gives her a quick glance as she mentions her ex-husband. She’s divorced.
“It’s alright,” Toji takes back, trying to sound at least a little bit polite, turning back towards his co-worker with a deathly stare, “He’s a dick. Don’t worry about it, we can wait.”
She takes a breath as she looks back to Toji, ignoring the other man as she says, “Thank you. Do you guys wanna …come inside? You can get some water and stuff before you get to moving shit. My daughter has already seemed to invite you into the home before I could introduce myself,” she gives a smile, Sai giggling beneath her.
Toji chuckles again, “Nah. You don’t gotta’ go through that trouble.”
His co-worker then butts in, “Actually… some water would do us good, it’s been a damn hot day today.”
Toji nearly glares back at him before he states, “Uh—yeah. Sure. Thank you.”
Stoney turns, beginning to pull Sai towards the kitchen with her, large hips round within the dress she wears, nearly wanting to rip through the fabric. She doesn’t notice Toji’s eyes against her. Not that it was her concern, but she was hoping he seemed the least bit physically attracted to her. Guess he didn’t.
Her sister then greets the men as well, reaching her hand out and grabbing Toji’s as she says, “Oh wow, look at that, Stoney. Nice hands. Strong. Good for moving boxes.”
Stoney rolls her eyes, “Please ignore my sister.”
He chuckles, “I’m good with my hands,” he replies back, shaking her hand with his own strong one before letting go. “Don’t worry.”
“So, how long have you had this company?” Serena asks, “Is it a family business, or just you?”
Stoney passes water to both men, taking her daughter as she sits against a chair to half listen to their conversation. It’s not that she wasn’t interested, she was just more focused on texting her ex-husband for a third time.
“I’ve had it for about four years or so.” he answers, “Nah, it’s not a family business. It’s all me.”
“Ooh, a working man by himself. Hear that, Stoney?” Her sister pulls her attention again, giving her a smirk.
Stoney rolls her eyes, “I hear,” she brings her eyes back up, “Having your own business is a pain in the ass.”
“Stoney owns her own business as well,” her sister adds on, crossing her arms with a smirk as she sees Toji’s eyebrows raise.
“Really?” he questions, glancing over at Stoney sitting in the chair, “What kind of business do you have?”
Stoney shakes her head, “It’s nothing as big as a whole moving company…I’m a ceramicists. I make stuff out of pottery—“ she then pauses to cover her daughter’s ears, “…Astray’s, bongs, plates. Shit like that. It’s not a big deal.”
Toji can’t help but smirk when she covers her daughter’s ears so she won’t hear her mother curse. He found it cute.
“Not a big deal?” he repeats, “Shit, sounds like you make good ass money. I’ve seen some ceramicists’ work, especially glass. They make a pretty dime doing that type of work.”
“Tell that to her bastard of an ex-husband,” Serena scoffs, Stoney quickly cutting her off, “Hey. Chill.”
Stoney then turns back to him, “Thank you. I just got back into my business. Had to put it on hold when I had Sai. So it’ll be an exciting little journey for me.”
“Well, all the power to you.” he says simply, ignoring the sisters' comments to each other beforehand, “How old is your daughter?”
“How old are you, baby?” Stoney looks down to the little girl, “You remember?”
“I’m four!” the little girl replies, lifting her small fingers to show her age.
Toji lets out another chuckle at the innocence in her
tone, “Just four years old… she’s adorable.“
“She’s actually five,” Stoney chuckles, “We’re still working on numbers. She’s moving into public school instead of the daycare she’s been in, so she’s really excited…”
She then pauses, realizing as she’s over explaining. She only ever did that with people she was comfortable with. Or liked.
She then pulls her hair behind her shoulder with an awkward chuckle, “Sorry. You didn’t ask all that.”
“You’re good. Keep talking to me.”
Stoney’s eyes flick up at him, seeing as he crossed his arms over his chest, awaiting for her to continue. She couldn’t help but notice the depth of his eyes, a steel grey that knocked into all of her senses. Serena raises her eyebrows, shrugging as she takes a sip of her wine.
“I—I—um—anyways, I hope it isn’t too hot for you guys today. I can try to help as much as I can.”
Toji noticed the way she shifts within her seat. She was easily reactive. He then shakes his head, “You’re not paying me for shits and giggles. We’ve got this, no worries.”
Sai then says, “Can I go back up to my room?”
“Sure, baby. I’ll call you back down when it’s time to go.”
Stoney gives her a kiss on the cheek, Sai turning back towards Toji as she says, “Are you coming with us to our new house?”
Toji smiles at Sai, “Yeah. I’ll be there,” he answers, watching as she giggles, “Yay!” before running up the stairs disappearing into her bedroom.
He’s silent for a few seconds until he looks back over at Stoney before stating, “Your kid’s a sweet one.”
“Don’t give her too much credit, she’s a kiss-ass in front of new people.”
Her sister then disagrees, “Now you know damn well that girl don’t be all sweet on new people. She’s like a dog or a newborn, can always sniff out the good ones. You’ married, Toji?”
“Jesus, Serena. Can the man breathe without you asking invasive ass questions?” Stoney glares.
Her sister shrugs, “Just curious.”
“No, I’m not married.” he answers, finally taking another sip of the cold water they gave him, his dark eyes never leaving Stoney’s.
When Stoney sees that he looks directly at her while answering the question, she focuses her attention on her wine, her face becoming warm—she’s unsure if it’s the drink, or her nervousness.
Serena then nods, “You’re extremely handsome. Any reason why you’re not married? Crazy? Commitment issues? Dead wife?”
“Girl!” Stoney gripes, “Don’t be a bitch.”
“No dead wife.” he answers back, a smirk appearing on his face, “Just haven’t found the right woman to marry.”
“Hm,” Her sister’s eyes flick him up and down as she then nods to Stoney, “Commitment issues.”
“Alright, my sister will be leaving now!”
Stoney stands from the chair, placing her hands on her sisters shoulders, pushing her towards the door, “The moving guys are here, so you can kick fuckin’ rocks. Goodbye!”
Toji watches as her sister leaves, not trying to hide his amused expression as Serena complains on her way out the door. She gives him a wink as she mouths, ‘Call me’, exiting the house with a loud slam to the door.
“…I can see why you need a break from her.” Toji says with a dry chuckle, placing the now empty glass down on the nearby counter.
“Imagine coming from the same womb as her,” she sighs, turning her attention back towards her phone, rolling her eyes as she says, “I’m sorry. He should be here soon. Um…let me put a couple more boxes outside the door so it’s easier for you guys.”
Toji nods at her words, watching her as she walks off to one of the areas and brings down at least two boxes. His eyes couldn’t help but linger on her for just a few moments as she walked, his eyes boring at her ass.
He shakes away his thoughts as she comes back into the kitchen as he asks, “You got a lot more stuff to move?”
“It’s just boxes, a lazy boy and my sofa. I hope it isn’t too heavy for you guys, I seriously don’t mind helping,” she offers, staring in between the both of them, “It’s gonna be hot, and my daughter is gonna talk your ears off while this happens, so I want to extend an olive branch.”
He shakes his head, “You don’t gotta’ worry about it, momma. We move heavy shit all the time,” he answers, his eyes locked onto hers.
She nods, “Okay, well—how about I buy you some cigarettes? Some top dollar shit. I saw you smoking before you knocked on the door. Whatever you smoke—on me. Or I can make the both of you a little astray—Yeah?”
Toji raises his eyebrows, a little bit surprised at her offer as he asks, “You’ trying to bribe me?” giving her a smirk again as he spoke.
She giggles awkwardly, “No! No. I just—feel bad for making you guys wait. Seriously, let me do that for you. Otherwise I might cry.”
“You gonna cry if you don’t buy any cigarettes for us?”
She was adorable. Actually adorable to him.
She rolls her eyes, “I’m tryna’ be nice here. I could be like my hoe-ass sister.”
His chuckle is attractive to her. She didn’t mind hearing it as he then says, “That’s cool too. I’d rather you not feel like you have to do something for us, we can wait on your ex-husband.”
She then sighs, crossing her arms almost like a child. She finishes off with, “I’m getting the cigarettes—Actually, if you don’t mind, I think you guys should at least move the sofa first. That’s the biggest thing— and the heaviest, so you can do that now. I’ll grab some more water, and the rest can wait until he gets here.”
Once he nods to his partner, she makes her way back to the kitchen, glancing at her phone and trying to call Nathaniel. No answer. Again. As she puts her phone up to her cheek, she watches from afar as both men grunt, effortlessly picking up the large furniture. Her eyes glance over Toji’s large arms, flexing as he holds the sofa up on his shoulder. She wonders what else he can hold up in the air like that.
So much for a phone call back. As they make their way outside towards the truck, a car comes speeding into the driveway, Stoney nearly rolling her eyes as she jumps at the abrupt vehicle. Both men halted their movement, placing the sofa down as they were at alert from now fast the car was moving.
She calls to both Toji and his partner, “You guys okay?”
“We’re fine.” Toji answers, his eyes then falling on the now parked car, watching as the driver's seat opens. Stoney hid her irritation as her ex-husband had finally arrived back to his own house.
“You’re late, Nathaniel.”
He steps out of the car, not at all acknowledging the truck or the two men that stand across from it. He lets out a scoff as he slams the door, “I said I’d be here at 12. I’m here now, aren’t I?”
He then looks over at Toji and his partner, an unreadable expression on his face. “You brought movers? You don’t even have that much shit.”
“You hired them, did you forget?” She frowns, ignoring his light jab, “You’re supposed to pay them. This is your house, Nathan.”
Nathaniel smacks his lips, “I’m here, why are you still talking? You’ just wanna hear yourself complain.”
Toji raises an eyebrow, his partner glancing at him as he fully takes his weight off of the sofa he leaned into. He asks, “You’ good?”
Stoney blinks at the question, shaking her head as she says, “I’m okay—“
“I’m asking him.”
When she realizes that he was asking Nathaniel, her eyebrows raise. The sweet nature he’d given off faded quickly, seeing as he looked between her and her ex-husband, his face entirely serious. She wasn’t sure why her heart was beating so fast.
“Can you just pay them, please?” She tries to change the subject, hoping that this man stops looking at Nathaniel. His stare was deadly.
Nathaniel frowns towards Toji before muttering, “Whatever,” shoving his hand into his pocket as he then takes out a wad of money, reaching it out to him.
Toji doesn’t budge, flicking his eyes down to the money before looking back up at him. His partner then reaches out as he presses his lips into a thin line, taking the money himself as he politely thanks him.
Nathaniel then turns his attention back towards Stoney. He eyes her in a way that she didn’t appreciate, almost as if he was disgusted with her.
“Don’t you think you wanna put some clothes on?” He glares at the dress she wears.
Another thing Stoney was aware of, now that they weren’t together, he couldn’t call her insulting terms as a result of the way she dressed. But that didn’t mean his reactions didn’t hurt. She crossed her arms, biting her cheek as she turned away, making her way back into the house to keep herself from becoming upset.
His employee immediately counts it to see how much they were given, while Toji’s eyes linger on the ex-husband as he continues to speak.
“Did she plan to get dolled up for some movers?” Nathaniel asks, scoffing once more.
Toji then interrupts, “You’ only gave us half of what you owe.”
Nathaniel’s head snaps over to Toji as if he’s shocked by the sound of his voice, as if he was surprised that he’d even spoken to him again. He snarls, “I gave you exactly what was agreed on.”
Toji’s eye twitches at the guy’s words. He counters, “You gave us fifty percent. We agreed that you’d pay a hundred percent upfront.”
“What are you tryna’ say? That I can’t give you the money you seem to need so badly?” Nathaniel twists his face up.
Toji’s partner then tries to keep the peace as he calmly responds, “Sir, that’s not what we’re saying—“
“‘Fuck are you getting pissy for? You agreed to pay us a hundred percent upfront before we even showed up here,” his jaw clenching, “I was nice enough to be here longer than I was supposed to be on account of your ex-wife who apologized for your fuck up’s. I could add charges onto my shit if I wanted to.”
“Everything okay?”
Stoney appears back outside, holding a box that she seems to struggle with a bit, her eyes falling against Toji who seems to be upset.
Toji’s eyes fall onto Stoney when she appears back outside, and for a moment he had almost forgotten about her from how pissed he was. His irritation and anger towards Nathaniel quickly melted away just at her presence.
“Everything’s fine,” Toji flatly answers, when in reality he wanted to choke-slam this man through his own vehicle.
Nathaniel laughs mockingly to himself, shaking his head with disbelief, “Of course, it’s fine. This mover is just giving me a hard time for some extra cash.”
Toji’s jaw clenches again. Yeah, he was definitely creating a hole in the front of his raggedy ass car—with him in it. But before he can retaliate, he remembers Stoney struggling with the box in her hands. He comes up to her as he takes the item from her arms, essentially trying to calm himself.
“Nathaniel, please stop being rude. Whatever else needs to be covered, I got it,” she brushed off, not wanting a scene to happen in the drive through.
She watches as Toji then comes forward to take the box from her hand, a breath releasing from her as she exhales with a weak smile, “Thank you, you’re sweet. Um—is everything really okay?” She asks more softly.
Her ex-husband mutters something under his breath as he makes his way past them to go into the house, Toji paying him no mind. His eyes stay focused on Stoney, seeing as she follows behind him towards the truck.
“I’m good,” he reassures, “Your ex-husband’s a fuckin’ idiot.”
That makes her quietly laugh, “World renowned news. How about I go get those cigarettes, and then we meet back up to head to my place, yeah?”
The corner of Toji’s lips twitches into a smirk once more at her words. He felt comforted by her, it felt strange.
“Yeah, that’s fine with me,” he answers back, letting out another subtle chuckle, “We’re almost done loading the heavy furniture anyways…just the smaller stuff left.”
She nods, “Good. Don’t worry about him. He’s…a stupid-head,” she rolls her eyes.
“A stupid-head, huh?”
“Dare I say— an idiot-box. Anyways, let me go. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”
She waves him off with another smile, hips twisting naturally as she makes her way towards her car. Toji watches her walk to her car, his eyes catching glimpses of her ass once again as she walks, a sight that he definitely wasn’t complaining about.
“See you…” he says back, his eyes lingering on her until she disappears into the car.
About an hour passes, by the time she arrives back to a place she used to call home, she holds a plastic bag with a couple of cigarette cartons, new paint bottles, and gloves for her future projects.
The moment she pulls into the driveway, her daughter comes running outside. She halts the car, stepping out as she gripes, “Jesus, Sai! Please don’t run in front of Mommy’s car.”
“I’m sorry, mommy!” Sai pouts, running towards her anyways, coming up to her mother and hugging her leg.
Stoney reaches down and scoops up the girl into her arms, picking her up quickly, “You gotta be careful, baby. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Okay, mommy,” Sai replies, her voice still young and high.
Toji and his partner watch as Stoney scoops the girl up into her arms, his eyes flickering between her and her daughter as she walks closer to them.
She presses a kiss to Sai’s cheek, which makes her giggle. She then turns to Toji, seeing as the sun now has him drenched in sweat, dripping down his arms and into his shirt—his overalls now pulled down past his hips— the sight making him look even more attractive.
She brings her focus back to his face as she asks, “Uh…you guys ready to go?”
He lifts the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, the fabric getting stuck to his skin for a moment. He then looks over to her again when she speaks, his eyes flickering down to the plastic bag in her hand.
“Yeah, we’re ready,” he answers back, nodding.
Once she puts all of the rest of her things into her car, it takes them about thirty minutes to get to her house. It looked almost similar to a condo, the divorce settlement paying off the debt of this house—a place her and her daughter could grow up together. Maybe start a family of their own—without her ex-husband. But unfortunately, he was always going to be Sai’s father.
As she opens the door, she watches as Sai gasps excitedly at the home. She giggles as she runs around the halfly furnished home, spinning in circles with all the room she has.
Stoney smiles, “You like it, baby?”
“I love it, mommy!”
Toji and his partner trailing behind them, the both of them taking a glance around, silently observing the place before Toji comments, “Nice house.”
Stoney sighs, “The bastard paid for it. Not by choice. Word of advice, don’t not sign a pre-up to someone you won’t end up with. Otherwise, they’ll strip you for all you have,” she winks, scanning her eyes around the black and white modern home.
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” he mentions, a small grin forming across his lips.
His partner lets out another subtle chuckle from his side. The two of them follow behind her and the little girl as she shrugs, “Heard that from a friend or something.”
A marble white kitchen island stretched for days on end. It was a beautiful sight, and she felt blessed to have this with her baby girl. Sai’s bedroom was upstairs, Stoney’s bedroom large and on the first floor, tilting right across from the front door to where she could see onto her porch. It was perfect. She watches as they begin bringing more boxes inside, having a thought resurface that had her curiosity peak.
“So, what’s with the snake on the side of your truck?”
At her question, both of the men looked over at where she was looking. Toji sees the logo on the side of the truck and then looks back at her.
“Thought’ it was cool, it also symbolizes the power of healing,” he briefly explains.
“He’s full of shit. The crazy bastard catches snakes in his downtime,” his partner concludes.
Stoney’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. There was no way in hell she'd actually heard him say that. She exclaims, “Oh hell no! I’d rather die than be inches close—feet close—FOOTBALL field feet close to a snake!”
His partner laughs, Toji rolling his eyes at her words, “It’s not that bad, I promise you,” he answers back.
His partner lets out another laugh, “He’s lying. It’s terrible.”
As Toji shoots a glare at his friend, Stoney then interrupts, “Sounds terrible. Do you like catching them? What happens after you catch them?”
Toji looks at her as he’s asked the questions, watching the confused yet concerned expression on her face. Her brown eyes sparkle in curiosity.
“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” he teases, a smirk forming across a smug smile. He chuckles, “It’s not terrible, seriously. If it’s a business call, it’s to remove them from jobs, apartments or houses. Recreationaly? I just like to catch them, take some pictures with them and then let them go.”
“Yeah—no. You could give me a billion dollars, and a unicorn that shits a hundred dollar bills. I still wouldn’t touch a snake. That was made by the devil!” She shivers.
Toji lets out another laugh as she speaks, finding her words to be amusing despite how over the top they may have been. He’ll admit that snakes aren’t the most appealing creatures, but they’re not the worst.
“I promise you, they’re not as bad as you think they are,” he answers back, lifting up one of the furniture pieces with his partner, “And they’re more scared of you then you are of them.”
“Bullshit! If it was more scared of me, it wouldn’t bite me! Or be poisonous!” She follows behind them, going around to open the door wider for them to pull the sofa in.
“You don’t have to worry about them biting you if you leave them alone, momma,” he counters.
His partner laughs as he walks backward through the door, helping Toji carry the furniture as he instigates, “You’d be surprised at how many times he gets bitten.”
“And you lived?! Is a premonition moving my boxes right now?”
“You mean apparition?” His friend asks.
“Whatever the fuck!” She exclaims back.
“Y’all are dramatic as fuck,” Toji finalizes. His partner lets out another laugh from his words, rolling his eyes as they finally get the furniture into the home.
She then says, “My sister might’ve been right. Maybe you are crazy.”
The moment she hears both men chuckle, Sai then comes back into the living room as she calls, “Mommy! Did you ask Daddy about my orchids?”
Stoney sighs, remembering the promise she’d made to her daughter earlier that morning. She nods, “Yes, baby. Let me ask again, okay?”
When she sees a look of confusion along Toji’s face, she shakes her head as she explains, “Sai wanted to start a garden since the front door kinda has a porch area. She always loved plants, I guess she essentially found an art for herself. She wants orchids as her first flowers.”
“Orchids, huh?” he comments, his attention returning to her, “She’s got an expensive ass taste.”
Stoney rolls her eyes, “Very. But—gimme’ a second? Let me make a call, and I’ll be back.”
She gives a soft smile, turning away from them as she makes her way back outside, going to grab for the bag of groceries she’d bought earlier that included their cigarettes. She calls Nathaniel, sighing as he doesn’t pick up until the last ring.
“Hey—uh, did you end up buying those orchids for Sai today? I sent you those pink ones I saw, they were at a florist not too far from your place. I checked already.”
Nathaniel lets out a scoff as he answers the phone, “That’s what you’re calling me about? No, I haven’t.”
He sounds irritated, like he’s got more important things to do then to buy some flowers. Stoney could feel herself becoming more irritated than he seemed.
“I’ll get them when I get the chance,” he finalizes bluntly.
“…But she asked for them today, Nathan. You told me you were gonna get them for her, otherwise I would’ve gotten them myself?”
She brings her eyes towards the front door as she sees Toji and his partner adjusting the sofa within the living room, trying to keep her composure. She also didn’t realize that Toji could practically hear her conversation.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…I know I said I would,”
Nathaniel responds, not really sounding all too interested in talking to her.
There’s a moment of silence before he speaks again, “What’s the big deal? They’re just flowers.”
“That’s not the point. I just wish you would’ve done it today. It might be flowers to you, but it’s more than that for her.”
“Why are you making such a big deal out of some flowers? I just said I’ll buy her the damn flowers, it doesn’t have to be today,” He answers back, annoyance clear in his tone.
She usually was very patient with this man. But from making a comment about her outfit, to snapping at the movers, to even now. She’d had enough of him for today.
“Fuck off, don’t worry about it.”
She hangs up the phone, muttering, “Stupid ass nigga,” turning away from the front door as she feels her frown turning into frustrated tears, but she takes a deep breath to drop herself from doing that. She can feel her phone vibrating in her hands, Nathan seemingly trying to call her back after being cussed out.
Nonetheless, she puts on a little smile as she makes her way back into the house, “Hey. I just—wanted to bring you guys your cigarettes.”
When she returns back into the home, he and his partner are in the midst arranging her furniture, both of them pausing for a moment. Toji notices her facial expressions and her hands clenching, clearly frustrated, which isn’t too surprising given that he can only assume who was the cause of that.
“You’ good?” He questions, his eyes watching her carefully.
She scans his face, blinking. She then lies, “I’m perfect,” the question bringing tears to gloss in her sockets, but she quickly blinks them back. She didn’t mean for him to see that, but she just hopes he gets the message to not ask.
“Um, well—you guys have really been amazing. I think I can take it from here. I just want me and Sai to enjoy the peace within our new home, yeah?”
Toji can see the way that her eyes glossed a little at the question, but he doesn’t bring it up in order to not further anger her. He doesn’t know if it’s his place to ask, so he leaves it be.
“No worries,” he answers back, an attractive but kind smile forming across his lips, “It’s our job, after all. We’ll leave you to the rest of it, then.”
She watches as the other friend washes his hands within the kitchen sink, nodding his head as he begins to make his way out the door. She comfortingly plays with her hair again, lifting the plastic bag to Toji with a weak smile, “You’re really sweet, Toji. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Stop thanking me, I’m just doing my job, momma. Thank you for giving me some shit to do today,” her counters, taking the bag from her hands, his fingers brushing against her own that creates a jolt against her palm.
With him being so respectful, she couldn’t tell if there was any spark between them—or he was just truly professional. When he said that, it made her realize that her feelings might’ve just been a spur of the moment—a distraction— a need to feel something that wasn’t the loathing of her ex-husband.
She pulls her hair behind her ear, multicolored studs climbing up her lobes as she finalizes, “Of course, yeah.”
Toji can see the way that she pulls back her hair, showing off the collection of piercings in her ear and on the sides of her face. He can see how they sparkle every time they’re met with the light, causing his eyes to stare at them for a little bit, almost admiring them.
“I hope the move goes well,” he says, returning his gaze back to her, that same smirk returning back to his lips, “It was nice meeting you, Stoney.”
“Nice meeting you too.”
She feels almost as if she’s dissociating. She doesn’t even have time to react as Sai comes up behind her, politely waving, “Bye-bye! I’m gonna play with my dolls in my new room!”
Toji watches as her daughter comes up from behind her. He waves back with a small chuckle. “Bye, pretty girl,” he says to Sai.
However, his eyes linger on Stoney for a moment, still unable to tell exactly what it is that she’s thinking or feeling.
She’s then pulled back into focus as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out what seems to be a business card. He takes her hand as he puts it within her palm, Stoney’s head leaning up as he’s closer than he’d been to her before.
Her head lifts up as her eyes widen slightly at the sudden closeness to him, watching as he leans just a little bit closer to her.
“If you ever need anything, I’m an instant call away,” he says in a low tone, his eyes looking down at her.
She pressed her lips together at that. Hearing his tone of voice, it’s still quite vague. But maybe it’s…something.
She nods her head, “Yeah, sure. Thank you.”
“Yo, Fushiguro! Let’s be out!” His partner calls from the truck, arm out the window as he pats the side of the vehicle, pressing the horn lightly for his attention.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” he calls back at his partner, but not before returning his attention back to Stoney, “Imma’ go. See you around.”
“Enjoy your um…cigarettes?”
She tries to be polite, but she suddenly has the urge to cry. Why was she so sensitive? She’s not sure what about, but she really wants him to leave before she does so.
Toji can sense the way that her voice changes slightly, her tone and her words almost seeming like a subtle cue to tell him to leave and go now. He knows that there’s a change in the air, and something is…off. Either way, he doesn’t mention it.
“Of course. I always do,” he chuckles, looking down at the cigarettes for a moment before looking back up at her, “Bye.”
She felt dramatic. Like a piece in that puzzle was missing. Like the ocean was filled with no water. To watch him walking away, catching sight of the broadness within his back was the last time she’d ever see it. She wasn’t sure if that’s what she wanted, but as she closed the door, she had to let it be.
She then turned towards Sai, “Hungry, baby girl?”
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🧚
The next couple of days were better than she expected. She had used them as her own personal manic episode, getting no sleep as she made her new home an actual home. Green-leafed plants and flowers tracked all around the condo, dark rugs, paintings along the walls and art sculptures seated in different corners.
She’d even created her space to work, an emerald rug along the floor with a couple of used t-shirts atop of it, above sitting the pottery wheel that was already dirty from a previous client's order. It was an apricot and pale blue mixture that created a Lillie flower, formed into an astray. Blank canvases also sat on easels in her station. She painted every once in a while if she really needed to express herself.
She didn’t know how she ended up with a drawing that was a pair of gray eyes, staring over the picture until it meant something to her. Or maybe she was in denial—she knew exactly who they belonged to and what they represented.
As the rest of the day passed by, she spoke to her sister about the smooth move she had, saying nothing as Serena complained to her about Nathaniel. She hung up the phone, wanting to cut that conversion short.
It was now the evening, the sun still out but beginning to set soon. It was beaming outside. She helped her daughter water all the plants they’d begun to collect, making sure they got their nutrients for the day as they sat outside. When they finished with their project, she took Sai into the house as it was time for her bath, wanting to get her on a good sleeping schedule as she would begin school soon. She sat next to her against the tub as she played in the water, staring down at the picture she took of the canvas with the gray eyes.
“Mommy? Did daddy say he was gonna bring me my pink orchids today?”
Stoney looks up at her, sighing at the question. She then says, “Of course, baby. Yeah. Um—He’ll bring them to you on your first day of school.”
Sai then cheers, “Yay!” clapping her hands, which causes Stoney to playfully clap with her, giggling to see her daughter so excited. Be damned if Nathaniel’s disappointments, she refused for her daughter to know of them. She was gonna make her happy whether he did his part or not— she’d get her a thousand pink orchids if she had to.
That happy moment quickly subsided. As she continued to sit with her daughter and stare at her phone, she could suddenly hear a noise that sounded unfamiliar to her. She frowns, sitting upward as she looks around, her body on high alert as it sounded like…hissing?
When she turned her eyes towards where the sound was coming from—which belonged to the toilet— her eyes stretched in horror.
The creature slithered its way out of the bowl, tracking its way out of the toilet as it had its eyes set on both Stoney and her daughter.
She screamed as if it was a ten-pound rat, taking a towel as she snatched Sai from the tub, scurrying into her daughters bedroom as if that would protect them from the venomous beast.
Sai’s face instantly turns white as she sees the creature slither out of the bowl in the toilet, letting out an equally loud scream. Stoney’s eyes were wide with terror as she slammed the door behind her, now ducking in the corner of the pink room.
Sai’s eyes widen as she looks up at her mother, tears forming in her eyes, “M—Mommy,” she whimpers.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s fine—it’s just—fucking hell!” She curses, quickly drying her child as she tries to find her some clothes, “Let’s call daddy, okay? Wanna go look at our garden on the porch while we wait for him?”
Stoney’s body still shook with fear as she quickly dried her daughter off, trying not to let her see just how scared she herself really was. She tries to find some clothes for her, quickly dressing her as her heart rate skyrocketed.
“Y-Yeah, let’s go to the porch and wait for daddy, alright?” she repeats again, trying to hide the terror in her voice. Sai nods her head, too scared to do or say anything else.
She was petrified of snakes. She’d always been, but she never had a reason to be this scared as she’d never seen one in person—at least not this close in vicinity. And now one was slithering around in her bathroom—in her home. Thinking on her feet, she placed the towel she’d dried Sai off with under the door, making sure it couldn’t escape anywhere else in the house.
When she got her daughter dressed, she picked her up and took her outside, nearly wanting to vomit if she stayed in the house any second longer. Chills ran up her spine at a constant, just hearing the sound of it hissing in her ears. She paced back and forth as Sai sat in a chair on the porch, watering another plant of theirs with a doll in her hand, Stoney sighing as she waited for Nathaniel to answer the phone after her fourth time calling.
Stoney’s heart couldn’t stop racing, trying to hide her panic and her fear from her daughter. She felt sick to her stomach.
“Please pick up…please pick up…” she whispered under her breath as the phone rang.
“Jesus, what is it?” Nathaniel finally picks up, answering in a sharp tone.
It’s almost as if her fear had ran away for a moment, being replaced with pure dread of this man’s tone. She ignores it as she tells him, “Nathan, I need you to come over. Like right now.”
“What, now? I’m right in the middle of a client, why do you need me so badly?”
“I—there’s a fucking snake in Sai’s bathroom! And you know I am literally about to shit myself at the thought. Can you come get it, please?” She practically begs him.
When he hears her mention a snake being in their bathroom, he can’t help but scoff into the phone. This only worsens her frustrated and panicked state.
“Seriously? It’s just a snake. Why do you always have to overreact to everything?” he says dismissively, clearly not taking her fears seriously.
“…I have literally been afraid of snakes since you met me, Nathan. Please don’t do this. Your daughter is also extremely afraid of them.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m aware. But is it really something I need to come over and take care of right this minute? I’m in the middle of a meeting,” he says, clearly more worried about his client than his child’s fears.
“Um, yes? Don’t you think your daughter’s safety is more important? We’re sitting outside and it’s hot as fuck, Nathan! Sai has school tomorrow and I want to get her to bed. Trust me when I say, you’re the last nigga I want to be calling right now.”
“Can’t you just capture it and let it loose outside?”
“Capture it—you’ tryna’ be funny? Have you lost your mind? I’d rather the motherfucker pay rent and utilities before I go head to head with it!” She exclaims.
She realizes that he’s no help. Taking a deep breath, another resolution comes to her mind. It’s like a flash of her memories reflects the idea, the grey eyes within her picture blaring her thoughts.
She then says, “You know what? I’ll figure it out. Bye.”
He smacks his lips, “Bye.”
As she hangs up the phone, she quickly runs into the house as she goes for her room, scattering around as she searches her dresser for something. When she finds it, she pulls the business card in front of her face, rolling her lips into her mouth as she quickly makes her way back outside, leaning against her front door with a sigh.
She’s extremely hesitant as she dials the number. She knows it’s way past the business hours it says along the card. She feels terrible—but she also hopes he picks up.
“Fuck,” she mutters, listening to the phone ring, “C’mon…”
The phone rang several times, each ring making her anxiety and panic grow more and more with each passing second. Her heart was racing, her hands were shaking, and she was feeling like she might actually go through with vomiting.
“Hello?”
The familiar voice of Toji fills the other line, her whole body nearly about to go into shock as he picks up groggily. Oh god, had he been asleep?
She wanted to jump for joy. She lets out the breath she’d been holding. Realizing that she probably sounds like a maniac breathing through the phone, she stutters, “T—Toji? Hi. Sorry. Shit. Fuck. Um—this is Stoney, do you…remember me?”
“Yeah. I remember you.”
He can hear the panic and urgency in her tone, causing him to sit up straight, fully awake now, deep voice still lightly tired as he asks, “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry. Oh my god, you were sleep. I’m so sorry. I mean it’s a little pass the sun setting, but—you probably been moving shit all day. Fuck. I’m so so sorry,” she sighs, “I’m a bad person. Fuck.”
Toji sighs into the phone, “Stop apologizing. I was just dozing off, don't worry about it,” he says, his voice still sluggish. He rubs his eyes, trying to wake himself up further, “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I know it’s pass your business hours, but—t—there’s a snake in my daughters bathroom. My baby’s bathroom. And I have a really bad fear of snakes, and I literally am holding back my gagging as I’m talking about it. I—“ she presses her hand to her forehead, trying to fan herself with her free hand, “I tried to call my ex-husband and this bitch-ass-nig—ooh, lemme’ not get myself mad. He said he was too busy with a client. I’ll pay whatever you need, I just—please come catch this fucking snake before I actually have a mental breakdown.”
Toji can sense the sheer terror and panic in her voice as she explains the situation to him, and he can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. She was right, he was tired from moving another house today. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to help.
He sighs into the phone once again, rubbing his eyes, “I’m coming. Stay outside and don't go back in the house, okay?” he instructs her.
“Okay. Yeah. Of course, w—was gonna do that anyway. Please hurry, my baby has school tomorrow and she’s already sleepy, I can’t have her outside like this.”
“I’ll be there, Stoney.”
A grueling hour and a half passes, the sun setting yet it was still hot outside. Her attention peaks as she comes to see a sleek black Chevrolet Silverado 1500 pull in front of her yard. Heavy boots from days ago boomed along the ground as Toji steps out.
He seems to be more comfortable today, the white compression shirt he wears clinging to his muscular frame, making the ink that hides within his chest and neck pop more against his olive skin and onyx hair. The black Nike cargos her wears don’t really match the shoes he wore, but she knew in the way she called, his attire didn’t seem to be his biggest concern.
She couldn’t help but be reminded of how damn fine he was. She even felt slightly embarrassed as she stood in a hello-kitty oversized t shirt—her daughters favorite character—her hair claw clipped out of her face, square glasses along her face.
As Toji makes his way to the porch, he can't help but notice how naturally pretty she looks, even in her oversized t-shirt and hair claw. He smirks to himself, feeling almost a little guilty for thinking of how attractive she is in this situation.
He stops a few steps away from her, seeing the fear and anxiety still etched on her face. He asks, "You holding up alright?" his voice a bit softer now.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Uh—sorry that I’m literally half naked right now. Should’ve grabbed some pants or something,” she apologizes, pulling her hair behind her ear reflexively before she pulls her hair out of the entire clip, letting it fall and trying to tame it down with her long acrylic nails. The shirt was big enough to cover her lower body, but he could still see the shape of her hips, her ass wanting to poke beneath the fabric.
Sai sits up along her chair, leaning on the bar of the porch as she sees the familiar man. She greets with a gasp, “It’s you!”
“Wassup’, little one. You remember me, huh?” he asks, his voice still gentle.
Sai nods, “Are you coming to kill the bad evil snake in our house?” She tilts her head, “I don’t want him to eat my teddy bears. Or my hello-kitty. I’ll be really sad.”
Toji chuckles at her answer, finding her worry over her stuffed animals endearing. "Don't worry. I won't let the snake eat your stuffed animals," he reassured her.
He looks back at Stoney, raising an eyebrow at her. "How big is this snake anyway?"
“Big as fuck. Literally big as the fucking-fuck,” her voice goes back into panic, “I know I’m dramatic, but that hoe was large. Not even normal enough to be in someone’s fucking drain. Probably was poisonous. What if I was on the toilet? I would’ve literally died from a snake bite in my ass,” she pressed her hands to her chest, leaning against the porch frame at the thought, “I’m about to rip my fuckin’ sew-in out.”
He squints, “I don’t think you can rip that out, don’t you have to cut it?”
She narrows her eyes at him. She then squints, “How you’ know that? Why do you know that?”
He shrugs as she then shakes her head, “Nevermind. We’re wasting time when that snake is having a fuckin’ kickback in my bathroom.”
"Don't worry, I won't let the snake bite your ass,” he says, his tone a bit more playful now.
She turns to him, “Are you laughing? This shit funny? If I wanted someone to make fun of me I would’ve called my ex-husband! I’m literally about to cry,” she shakes her head, feeling tears forming at his amusement. She knows she’s dramatic, but she’s scared.
Toji sighs, realizing that she's not appreciating his attempts to lighten the mood. He takes a deep breath and steps closer to her, taking her hands into his.
"Cut that shit out, I'm not trying to make fun of you. I'm sorry," he says sincerely, looking into her eyes. "I understand you're scared, and I'm not here to laugh at you. I'm here to help."
She nods her head, sniffling, “Okay. Okay,” squeezing her palms together within his hands as she takes a deep breath.
"Good. Just keep taking deep breaths, alright? I'm gonna go in there and get rid of the snake, and then everything will be fine. Just stay right here with Sai, okay?"
She nods her head, watching as he enters the house. She then calls, “Please don’t die! I don’t have insurance on this place yet!”
"I'll make sure to tell the snake about your insurance policy!"
A weak laugh pulls from her at that, and she somewhat felt relieved. It feels like time drags by as she waits for him. Once almost thirty minutes passes, she takes a sleepy Sai back into the house as she allows her to lay on the sofa.
She hesitantly makes her way towards the bathroom as she calls, “Toji?” Slowly peeping her head into the door.
As Stoney peeks her head into the bathroom, she finds Toji standing there, looking completely unfazed by the snake that was coiled up in the bathtub. He's leaning against the counter, examining the snake with a mix of curiosity and nonchalance.
He looks over at her as she calls his name, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?" he responds, his voice relaxed.
She stares in between the snake and him, “Oh hell, not the bitch taking a bath!” She exasperates, “Uh—y’all having a conversation or something ? You’re not gonna kill it?”
"Nah, just getting to know each other," he says, an amusement in his tone.
He pushes himself off the counter, walking towards the snake and going to pick it up as he says, “It’s a garter snake—practically harmless. Can’t do shit to me or you.”
Just when he says that, the snake pounces forward, wrapping it’s mouth along his arm where his tattoo sat. Stoney squeaked, throwing her hands over her mouth as she backed up again.
“Oh my god!” She panicked, “Are you okay? Are you gonna die?!”
Toji shakes his head. He’s completely unfazed as he picks it up with ease, holding it in his hands as if it were a piece of rope before he replies, “He’s just a little pissed off. It’s not venomous.”
The snake wraps itself around his bicep, almost becoming comfortable against his forearm. He brings himself closer to Stoney as he shows her, “See? He’s good now.”
She covers her eyes, “That’s not the thing I saw earlier! He turned into a baby snake so he could make me feel stupid!” She shrieks through her hands, covering her now red face.
"This is the only snake I see here. You sure you're not just seeing things?"
She pulls her hands down slowly, looking at the small creature. Instead of it being the rattle snake she saw within her mind, it had beady eyes, no thoughts within its brain. It might not have even had full on teeth.
She looks at it again, “A garter snake?”
"Nothing dangerous, I promise," he reassures her, gently stroking the snake's head with his finger.
“It wouldn’t have bit me in my butt?” She questions.
"No, it wouldn't have bitten you in your ass,” he chuckles, “Garter snakes don't bite unless they feel threatened, he tried to escape earlier when he saw me, so he was a little irritated. Wanna see—“
“Aht—okay, that’s too much. Harmless, I can believe. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she shakes her head, backing up against the wall within the hallway.
“You were acting like his ass was a damn python.”
“Fushiguro, take you and your cousin outside before I become the scariest thing in this bathroom.”
“Who knew me and your ex-husband were related?”
She gives him a blank stare, “You’ think you’re funny?”
“A little,” he mutters, going past her out of the bathroom as he coos, “C’mon, Nathaniel. Outside where you belong…”
She rolls her eyes as she mutters, “My hero.”
Sai was on the sofa dozing off, eyes becoming wide as she watched Toji walk past her. She sits halfway up from the seat, as she expresses shockingly, “Woahhh! Mommy—a snake!”
“A demon!” Stoney corrects, coming around the corner, “He’s going back outside with his family. Say bye to Toji’s friend.”
“Bye Toji’s friend!” Sai waves.
“Thought Sai was afraid of snakes? Or were you just using that as a coverup for your fear?” He teases, waving at her as he walks outside towards the trees.
She warns, “Hey, not too much on me and my fears.”
When he released it outside, she leaned against the porch door, her eyes watching his muscular figure and broad back flex as he stood back up.
She then sighs, “Thank you, Toji. Seriously. I thought I was gonna die. How much do I owe you?”
"Don't worry about that," he says, waving his hand dismissively, "I’m good on the money. Got more than enough.”
She crosses her arms, “Well my bad, pimp, since you got it like that. You’ sure though? Maybe I can get you another pack of cigarettes or something? Although in these last couple of days, I hoped you’d kicked your bad habit.”
"Unfortunately I’m still an addict, maybe I’ll sleep it off.”
She rubs her arms, laughing awkwardly at his response. She then apologizes, “Um…well thank you again, you’re a sweetheart. I’m really sorry I woke you up.”
“What did I tell you about that constant apologizing shit? You’re fine, Stoney.”
She blinks for a moment, watching as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket, searching for his lighter in the other. His voice could be rough, but he was the complete opposite.
“Boy, hush. Anyways—was traffic bad or something? I was worried something happened to you, it almost took you two hours to get here.”
If only she knew that Toji nearly lived an hour and a half outside of town, she wouldn’t have called him.
Toji hesitates for a moment, not wanting to reveal how far it actually took him to get there. But he figures there's no point in lying to her now.
"Nah, traffic was fine," he says, scratching the back of his neck. "I just live kinda far, that's all. Almost an hour and a half from here."
“What?!” She panics, “Toji, what the hell? I wouldn’t have asked you to come? I would’ve called the fire department—or Jesus himself, they would’ve been easier to get than you! Fuckin’ hell, I’m so sorry.”
“Stoney.”
“It’s literally late as hell for you to be driving…”
She thinks on what she’s about to say, wondering if this was crazy for her to ask. She figured, fuck it.
“How about you’ stay here tonight? I can order whatever you like, you can rest up for tomorrow, I have no projects for tonight so—you can sleep peacefully, I promise me and Sai are quiet.”
Toji raises an eyebrow at her suggestion, surprised by her offer. "Stay here for the night, huh?" he says, mulling it over in his mind.
He couldn't deny that the thought of a comfortable bed and a quiet night to sleep sounded appealing.
"I mean, if it's really no trouble," he says, a smirk on his face. "I won't say no to a free meal and a comfy bed."
“Thank god, I thought I was gonna have to kidnap you. Well, c’mon then, snake whisperer.”
She turns away from him, the natural sway in her hips returning as her slender eyes blink back at him in a way that looked more sensual than he expected.
Her voice goes soft as she then asks, “You’ coming?”
As Toji watches her walk away, his eyes drift down, taking in the alluring sway of her body. He shakes off the thoughts as he forces his eyes back up to her face.
"Yeah, I'm coming," he replies, his voice slightly huskier than usual.
She ends up putting Sai to bed as she notices her dozing off along the sofa. As she walks up the stairs, Sai gives a soft, “Bye snake-man,” to Toji, a tired wave coming from her tiny hand.
Toji can't help but smile at the sound of Sai's sleepy voice. "Bye," he says, waving back at her.
She clasped her hands together as she came back down the stairs, noticing as Toji was now looking around her living room, an eye now on the painting she’d created. The gray eyes. Shit.
She tries to distract him as she asks, “Uh—anything you feel like eating in particular?”
Toji nods as he looks at the painting on the easel, his gaze lingering on the gray eyes painted along the canvas. He can't help but feel a strange sense of familiarity, but he shakes the feeling off as he looks away.
"I'm not picky, I'll eat whatever.”
She sighs, “You’re such a simple man. You must get that from your father,” she tells him, going into the kitchen as she exhales, “How about pizza? It’s simple, I know. But I’ve been doing projects for the past couple of days with moving so— I’m all out of energy to cook, otherwise you would’ve gotten a four course meal.”
"Pizza sounds good," he says, a small smile on his face. "And trust me, I'm not complaining, I think I’ll survive without the four course meal."
“Great,” she agrees, going into her phone as she begins ordering online. She then brings her eyes back to him as she then asks, “Hm…how about, some wine? My sister was in love with this bottle, maybe you’ll like it too?”
“I trust your sisters opinions, shit is probably good.”
“Oh? I thought you said she was too much at one point?” She raises an eyebrow, pulling out a wine glass and a regular glass cup.
"She is. That doesn’t make her less intelligent," he adds, a hint of a challenge in his voice, "I trust you too, you know. I trust that you wouldn’t give me a shitty glass of wine."
“You trust me? How do you know I’m not a succubus trying to suck your lifeline?” She questions, not directly looking at him. For the time they’d known each other, he hadn’t directly flirted with her. She was trying to test the waters, seeing if he’d take the bait.
At her comment about being a succubus, Toji lets out a hearty laugh. He smirks at her question, his eyes watching her intently. He leans forward a bit, his muscles flexing under his t-shirt.
"I think I’ll be fine,” he replies, voice smooth.
Hearing that almost was like a slap in the face. Maybe she was just bad at flirting. This man didn’t seem the least bit interested in her, why did she keep trying?
She pours his glass within the cup as she hands it to him politely, sighing at her failed attempts at flirting as she says, “Tell me how it tastes.”
As he takes the cup of wine from her, he can’t help but notice the shift in her demeanor. She suddenly seemed deflated, her shoulders slumping slightly. He then takes a small sip of the wine, swishing it around in his mouth for a moment before swallowing.
"Hm. It’s not bad," he says, his voice nonchalant. "It’s smooth and fruity, with a bit of a kick. I’d give it a seven out of ten.”
“Seven? I spent thirty dollars on that bottle! Better make that shit an eight!” She exclaims. She shakes her head, “I can’t take your opinion anyways, you like snakes!”
Toji laughs at her excalamarion, "What, a seven isn’t good enough for your ass? I thought I was being generous," he teases. "Just cause I like snakes doesn’t mean I have a bad taste in wine. I’ll lie and give it a nine out of ten. Just for you.”
“Thank you,” she flips her hair, “I use to do wine tasting with my ex-husband all the time. Well— I’d be there and he’d just kinda sulk the entire time. A bit depressing now that I’m explaining,” she laughs awkwardly, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get all…sad.”
“You’re good, he seems like a pain in the ass.”
She nods her head, jewelry blaring under the light as she moves her hair from her face, “Pain in the ass is an understatement for sure.”
As she takes a sip of her wine, she begins to notice the eyes that fall upon her. Her skin feels warm, turning towards him as she akwardly laughs, “What?”
He smirks at her question, his gaze unwavering. "What?" he echoes, his voice deep. "I'm just looking at you."
She nods, a small roll to her eyes as a knock comes to the door. She then says, “Probably the pizza,” stepping off of the table as she goes to pay the delivery person.
Just as she attempts to do so, she feels a body come behind her, the warmth of him nearly sending her body into a shock, a large arm reaching out as he hands the man whatever the amount was owed.
She can’t protest before the door closes in her face, “Hey! I was supposed to pay,” her back against the door as he shuts it behind her, arm next to her head as the other holds the pizza box in his hands.
Toji chuckles at her protest, enjoying the way she pouts a bit like a child being told she can’t have a cookie before dinner. He stands close enough to her that she can feel the heat radiating off his body, his arm resting against the door just above her head. He looks down at her, a sly smirk on his face.
"I’m the man, momma. I was supposed to pay regardless.”
Her head is forced to tilt up at him a bit, the heat of his body catching her off guard. She could admit to herself it had been a while that she had been this close to a man—or even interested in one. It made her feel…virginal.
She stepped away from the door as she says, “Well— thank you. I’m grabbing ranch! That’s the only way you eat pizza!”
She turns something on the tv for background noise as they become comfortable on the sofa, Stoney silently eating a slice of pizza as she notices how small he makes her couch look from him sitting on it. As she does that, a call goes off on her phone, seeing as it’s her ex-husbands contact. She ignores it, placing her phone back on her coffee table, sighing as she looks back to the tv.
He sees her face, raising his eyebrow as if he already knows who called. She rolls her eyes, “Guess he must’ve felt shitty after telling me I was being dramatic—granted, I was— but I’d rather you call me dramatic than your daughter.”
"Dramatic or not, you shouldn't have to deal with his bullshit," he says, his tone serious.
“It’s nothing new,” she shrugs, “It’s one of the more important reasons why we aren’t together. He told me I was dramatic about everything. Including when he told me to drop my business in order to focus on my pregnancy.”
She doesn’t know why she goes as far as to say that, shaking her head as she apologizes again, “Sorry.”
He frowns, “He didn’t want you to have your business ‘cause you were pregnant? That’s stupid as fuck.”
She exhales, nodding her head as she continues, “Yeah, um—we got together when I was about twenty. I got pregnant with Sai when I was twenty-two, and we decided it’d just be easier to get married. But marriage…it makes you truly learn a person for who they really are. He wanted me to be this—traditional house wife. Cook, clean, shut up, give pussy on command—have all his babies and take care of them while he worked. I didn’t want that, I wanted to make something of myself, I had a life before him…or Sai. She’s my world, but that wasn’t gonna stop me from accomplishing my goals. I love my art. My little dumb ceramics, they make people happy. I just wanted to do that and have someone’s support…especially from the man that was supposed to be my protector.”
"That's bullshit," he says eventually, his voice low. "You shouldn’t have had to give up your art and passion to fit into some dumbass idea of what a wife should be."
She shrugs, “That’s what he wanted. Five years and I truly feel like that man knew nothing about me. It feels like I’ve wasted so much time. The only thing I don’t regret is Sai. She’s my everything,” she honestly admits, “And here I am now, I’ll be thirty in a couple of years, already a divorcè, and not as attractive as I use to be,” she chuckles, “I feel stupid.”
He frowns, “‘The fuck are you talking about? You don’t think you’re attractive?”
She goes quiet. Her eyes come up to his, “I don’t mean to get all self-deprecating, I’m just…being honest.”
Toji shakes his head, his eyes still fixed on hers. "Being honest is fine, but saying some shit like that was stupid. You’re sexy as fuck, Stoney.“
His tone is firm, but there's a hint of something else there too—a note of sincerity that surprises her.
She places her legs under herself, a warmth coming to her face as she laughs weakly, “You’re just being nice cause I’m giving you my sob story.”
Toji scoffs, shaking his head as he looks at her. "I’m not the type of guy to say shit just to be nice."
He meets her gaze, unflinching and unashamed, as if daring her to question his words.
She presses her lips in a thin line, taking in his words. All of the insecurities she felt was caused by a man that didn’t love her the way she deserved to be loved—maybe she was just now realizing that.
She gives him another weak smile as she softly says, “…Thank you.”
In that moment, Toji stood up, remembering something. In the midst of chaos with the snake, he’d forgotten why it had also taken him so long to get here.
Stoney asks, “You okay?” As he raises himself from the sofa.
She watches as he nods before he says, “I forgot to grab some shit from my car,” before making his way outside hastily.
Stoney sits up, a look of concern on her face. Did she say the wrong thing ? Was he leaving? Did she scare him off?
“…Toji?”
Another couple of minutes had gone by. Why was her heart beating so fast?
But when he entered back into the house, her face and heart dropped. In his hand was what looked to be a vase full of salmon pink orchids, her ears ringing at the sight. She didn’t know that he’d heard the conversation between her and her ex-husband, practically begging him to get the one thing her daughter asked him for.
He approaches her, stopping in front of the couch and places the vase on the coffee table. The flowers look vibrant and beautiful, standing out against the dark counter.
He scratched the back of his neck as he awkwardly chuckled, "I uh…just thought you could use these."
The look on her face is unreadable. She wasn’t sure how to feel, her trust issues in fear of being hurt by anyone ever again. She didn’t know his intentions, but this didn’t feel bad at all. She takes the flowers, an almost sad smile coming to her face, her sensitivity giving her the urge to cry once more.
She says softly, “…Thank you.”
Toji can see the vulnerability in her expression, the way her trust issues make her hesitate to accept his gift. He understands it—he has his own set of trust issues after all.
He doesn’t try to decipher what she’s feeling, instead, he just watches her take the flowers from him. He sees the sadness in her smile, and he feels a strange urge to wrap her in his arms and protect her.
"It’s no big deal," he says quietly. "Thought you could use some pretty flowers."
There it is, the urge to actually cry. All of her feelings and emotions, she’d been holding in, allowing people to step all over her, keeping quiet. They wanted to break in that second. She also had the urge to kiss him. To do more with him, but she didn’t know if he wanted to same.
She quickly stands from the sofa as she rubs her eyes, laughing softly and turning her face away from him as she asks, “Um—I’m assuming you need to shower?”
She could feel his eyes on her. It was worry, concern, but it was also…something else. She hadn’t had a man look at her like this in years, the urge to grab her and have his way with her. It intimidated her.
Toji watches as she stands up abruptly, her laughter coming out slightly forced. He can see the emotions in her eyes, the way her body language betrays her, and he can't help but feel a pang of empathy for her.
He watches her turn away from him, her question lingering in the air. He knows what she's asking, what she's hinting at. He can feel her tension, her hesitance.
"Yeah," he responds, his voice low. "I could use a shower."
“You can use my bathroom, it has a standup shower. I made it all pretty with plants around the shelves within it, the water comes down from the ceiling, but no to a point where you drown—shit, am I rambling? Uh—okay. Let me just get you some towels.”
She makes her way down the hallway to her room, feeling him following behind her. It was like a tug of her body, a sudden pull she had for him. She wasn’t sure where it’d come from—her body felt hot. Maybe it was the wine.
She sees him sit along the bed as she grabs a towel for him within the closet, calling to him, “Uh—any specific color of towel? I don’t know why I have so many…”
She knows she’s asking questions to distract herself from the moment, but why does she feel so shy?
Toji sits on the bed, watching as she rummages through her closet for a towel. He can sense her nervousness, the way she keeps talking to fill the silence. He suppresses a grin, finding it oddly adorable that she’s asking something so trivial.
He responds casually, “No preference, any color is fine.”
“I feel like you’re a gray kinda guy,” she says, and she halts herself, hoping that it wasn’t any indication of that damn painting she made.
She brushes it off, coming back out of the closet as she says, “Well, I got you a body towel and then a bathing towel. Hope you don’t mind smelling like vanilla and coffee, that’s the soaps I have. You’ll smell good though,” she rambles, placing the towels in front of his hands.
As she brings out the towels, he takes them from her, feeling the soft fabric against his fingers. He can smell the scent of vanilla and coffee wafting from her body suddenly, like a drug had induced his system out of nowhere.
"Thanks.”
She stands with her hands pressed together, his eyes now boring into hers. Those damn gray eyes seep into her soul, scanning her every move.
She then pulls back from him, “Well—there you go. If you need help with the shower handles just—let me know.”
It’s as if time was passing by slowly. His eyes were melting into her brain, disintegrating her body with just one look.
He extends up to his full height, her head tilting once again to look at him, so much that it makes her step back. He walked around her, pulling his eyes forward as he stalked towards the bathroom.
In one swift sound against her ear, he asks, “You’ coming?”
She blinks. Maybe she hadn’t heard him correctly. She turns around as he continues walking with no look behind him, as if he wasn’t necessarily asking—He was telling her.
“Huh?”
"I said, are you coming?" he repeats, his voice low and sultry. Again, it’s not a question. It’s more like a command, a demand. His eyes lock into hers, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
The shock is evident on her face, her mind racing to catch up to what he’s just asked. Toji stands at the threshold of the bathroom, watching her processing his question. His eyes roam over her figure, taking in the way her body responds to his words. He can sense her hesitation, but he can also see the desire in her eyes.
"You heard me the first time.”
“You want me to… shower…with you?” She questions, almost confused, as if she needed to hear it again.
Toji doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at her with a neutral expression. It’s like he’s studying her, trying to deduce her thoughts and reactions.
When he speaks, his voice is low and almost mocking. “To shower with me,” he repeats, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
It was like a shift in his entire demeanor. Her eyes follow him as he fully walks into the bathroom, at the same time commanding, “Hurry up,” back muscles flexing as he removes his shirt, her eyes scanning the amount of ink plastered along his back before he disappears behind the door.
Her feet wouldn’t push herself into walking. But as her mouth fell agape at the thought of showering with him, it pushed her to follow in after him. The lights were dim within her bathroom, plants all around her sink and side of the shower wall. It was big enough to fit her, but she wasn’t sure if it’d fit the both of them. Maybe that was the point.
His body is turned the opposite way of her as he undresses, Stoney watching in almost awe, his body sculpted in a way that was terrifying. He doesn’t bother to turn around as he continues to undress, but he can hear the slight hitch in her breath as he reveals more and more of his bare skin.
Without thinking too much, she begins removing the shirt she wears and the underwear beneath them, throwing it to the side, hair now falling around her face and body.
She watches as he steps into the shower, a broad frame going under the hot water that scorches his skin. He glares over to her, turning slightly to the side so that she catches a glimpse between his legs. It’s veiny, sinking down as it can’t hold its own weight, a dark pink flushed along the tip. His tatted arm takes the hand towel as he rubs it along himself, cleaning the dirt from earlier within the day. The sight nearly makes her faint.
She feels like she does all of this with her eyes closed. She opens the door, Toji taking a step back as he wants her in front of him. The water drenches her hair, making the midnight black even darker as it flows down her waist.
She pushes it out of her face, closing her eyes as she takes a deep breath, feeling him behind her. As she inhales, his hand lightly comes along the side of her hip, pulling her back towards him as his neck hangs down to reach her, brushing his mouth along her neck.
"What are you doing?" Stoney whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of the running water. Despite her words, she makes no move to pull away from him, instead leaning back into his touch.
Toji's lips curve into a smirk against her neck. "Isn't it obvious?" he murmurs, his hand sliding from her hip to rest possessively on her stomach. "I'm enjoying the view."
Stoney shivers as his lips trail along her neck, her pulse jumping beneath his touch. She can feel every hard inch of him pressing against her back, igniting a fire low in her belly. "But... we shouldn't..." she protests weakly, even as her body betrays her, arching into him.
"Why not?" Toji chuckles, nipping at her earlobe.
“It’s just…been a while …” she admits softly, jumping lightly again as his fingers slowly trickle down to her thigh. Her head falls up as she leans against him, beginning to breathe in a more shallow manner.
"A while since what? Since someone touched you like this?"
Toji's voice is a low rumble in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. His hand slides further down her thigh, teasingly close to where she needs him most.
Stoney bites her lip, nodding jerkily. It has been a long time since she's felt desired, wanted. And the way Toji is touching her, like he wants to devour her whole... It's intoxicating.
“I…haven’t even touched myself,” she embarrassingly reveals.
If only she were lying. She hadn’t relieved her own stress nor had someone do it for her in months, she felt entirely backed up. She could all tell in the way his fingers trailed closer within her inner thigh, his free hand locking around her throat, causing her chest to heave up and down—he’s barely done anything to her.
Toji's grip on her throat tightens ever so slightly, a silent reminder of his dominance. His other hand inches higher on her thigh until his fingertips brush against the damp heat of her core.
Stoney gasps, her knees buckling as a jolt of pleasure shoots through her. "Oh god," she whimpers, her hips instinctively rolling back against him. She can feel his hardness pressing insistently against her ass, making her ache to be filled.
Toji's lips find the shell of her ear once more, his voice a husky whisper. "Tell me how bad you need it, Stoney."
“I need it—so bad,” she tells him softly, bringing her own fingers to where his hand was between her legs. The moment she does this, he catches her hand within his, pressing it under his own as he guides her fingers to the sensitive bud of her clit, gently brushing over it teasingly. Her hips arch towards him as she digs her teeth into her lip, desperately hiding another whimper.
With her hand trapped under his, Toji applies gentle pressure, circling her clit with deliberate slowness. "That's it, touch yourself for me," he encourages, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.
Stoney's breathing grows ragged as she starts rubbing herself in earnest, her hips grinding against his palm. "Please, Toji," she begs, her voice trembling with need.
“‘Fuck are you saying please for? Don’t beg me, show me what you want.”
His voice makes a deep whimper release from her as he guides her fingers to rub her clit with more pressure, her hips beginning to tremble as both her fingers and his rub in circles, making her arousal grow within her core.
"There's my good girl…" Toji praises, his hot breath fanning over her neck as he watches her work herself closer to the edge.
Her body twitches each time she hits a certain pressure point on her clit, stopping herself from that release when it feels too much. His other hand is still along her throat as he tells against her ear, “Stop all that moving and shit. Let it feel good.”
Stoney's moans fill the steamy bathroom, echoing off the tiles. She's lost in a haze of pleasure, completely under Toji's control.
Her eyes roll to the back of her head when she feels his fingers drop lower, two finger sliding against her core before slowly sinking into her as he talks to her, “Need your pussy gripping my fingers,” her shallow breath making a soft cry at that, hips trembling wildly in reaction as he tsks against her ear, shaking his head as he demands, “Keep your fingers on your clit. I didn’t tell you to stop.”
“T—Toji…”
She whines, trying to rub her clit, unable to focus as his fingers sink in and out of her, his lips along her throat all too much. His voice against her ear as she shakes her head, teeth digging back into her lip.
"Shh, relax," Toji coos, his fingers curling inside her as he strokes her inner walls. "Let me take care of you."
She’d never felt this pleasurable in a while, only able to react in spasms. He nips at her earlobe, soothing the sting with his tongue before whispering, "You're so tight, baby. I love feeling you clench around my fingers." His thumb presses against her clit, applying firm pressure in sync with the thrusts of his digits.
Toji brings his face around, capturing her mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. His tongue delves past her lips, tangling with hers as he explores the wet heat of her mouth. He breaks the kiss only to trail open-mouthed kisses down her jaw and neck, leaving a path of fire in his wake.
"You look so fuckin’ good.”
Her four fingers now desperately rub her clit, Toji slowing his own movements as he just…watches her. Her chest heaves up and down as she pants, a pout nearly along her face as she cries softly to herself, “I—I’m so close…”
Toji smirks, his gaze fixed on her desperate fingers working her clit. "That's it, baby. Get yourself there."
He resumes his slow, deliberate thrusts, curling his fingers to hit that sensitive spot inside her. His thumb applies steady pressure to her clit, rubbing in small circles.
"Come on, let go," he urges, his voice a low rumble. "I want to feel you fall apart."
Stoney’s walls start to flutter around his fingers, signaling her impending climax. The hand against her throat comes up lightly as he grips her face, giving her a light tap to catch her attention.
Toji leans in, his breath washing over her ear as he whispers, "Quit all that fuckin’ whining, make yourself cum.”
Stoney’s eyes squeeze together as she leans her head back against him, his free fingers finding a way into her mouth as he shoves them against her tongue. She can feel her abdomen tightening as she helplessly whines in response.
She tries to hide the soft drag of, “Fuckk,” beneath her mouth, her exhale causing her release. Her body goes into shock as she pushes out her arousal in a way she didn’t expect, squirting along his fingers.
Toji groans as he feels her squirt around his fingers, her warm essence coating his hand. "Fuck— yeah, that's it," he growls, continuing to pump his fingers through her pulsing walls.
He grabs her throat once again to hold her in place. Taking her hand that was along her clit, he slides it against her drenched core before he brings them up to his own mouth, sucking her arousal off of her fingers.
Stoney slumps against him, boneless and spent as he praises, "You did so fuckin’ good, baby. Pussy tastes like I need to eat it.”
Trying to regain her composure from her orgasm, she shakes her head with her eyes closed as she whimpers, “I can’t wait…I—want you to fuck me, please.”
Asking nicely didn’t always get you what you wanted. He turns her around to face him, pressing her against the wall as he lifts her legs to where her knees are along the shower's marble. He’s already kissing along her neck, attaching his lips down to her nipples as he wraps his mouth along them, roughly circling his head as he sucks the skin within his mouth.
He continues to suck on her nipples, biting and nipping at the sensitive buds until they're hard and throbbing. Releasing one from his mouth, he trails kisses down her stomach, dipping his tongue into her belly button before making his way lower.
"To beg for my dick... You must really want it," he murmurs against her skin, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. He spreads her thighs wider, exposing her glistening pussy to the cool air of the shower.
Leaning in, he drags his tongue up her slit, lapping at her juices before focusing on her clit. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive nub, flicking it rapidly as he hears her moan above him.
"I don’t give a fuck about what you want. Gonna make you squirt on my face.”
She nearly rolls her eyes, gripping for his hair as she desperately moans, back arching against the wall as she feels almost helpless.
Toji growls lowly, his grip tightening on her hips as he devours her with renewed hunger. He buries his face between her thighs, his tongue plunging deep inside her as he fucks her with it. The lewd sounds of his eating fill the shower, mixing with her desperate moans.
"Mmmph... you taste like fuckin’ heaven, baby" he mumbles against her flesh, his breath causing her to tremble. He doubles his efforts, sucking her clit as he then dips his tongue back inside of her.
He curls his tongue just right, rubbing that spot inside her that makes her see stars. "C’mon, c’mon,” he begs her, “C’mon, baby. Soak my fuckin’ face."
She grips his hair tightly as she brokenly moans, “Baby—oh fuck. Agh, fuck. I’m gonna—“ she gasps, unable to use her words as she feels tears nearly within her eyes, “Gonna squirt baby,” she gasps, “I—I’m gonna cum again.”
Toji's eyes flash up to meet hers, seeing the desperation and impending climax written all over her face. He smirks, knowing he's the cause of her unraveling.
"That's it, baby. Cum on my tongue."
He doubles his efforts again, slurping and sucking at her clit as he thrusts his tongue deeper inside her. The vibrations from his groan against her sends her hurtling over the edge. Her body seizes, back arching as a torrent of liquid gushes from her core, drenching Toji's face and mouth.
He laps it all up greedily, drinking down her essence as he continues to eat through her orgasm. When she finally starts to come down, he pulls back, licking his lips with a satisfied grin. "Fuck—yeah, momma. That was good. So fuckin’ good.”
Her eyes are faltering closed as she’s still softly moaning as he comes up, putting her legs over his shoulders as she’s still slightly leaned against the wall.
She puts her arm around the back of his neck as he lightly pressed his lips to hers, breathing along her mouth as he tells her, “I’m gonna put it in, that’s what you want, yeah? Tell me.”
She states quietly against his mouth, “Put it in…slowly, please.”
Toji nods. He positions himself at her entrance, the thick head of his dick pressing against her slick folds. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushes inside her, inch by delicious inch.
Her mouth lightly parts open, silence going between them now. She nearly pulls back from his lips as her eyes reflexively roll to the back of her head.
She mouths so quietly, “Oh..my god,” unable to focus as he talks to her softly, “Slow like that, baby? Imma’ go deeper.”
Stoney’s walls stretch to accommodate his size, a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort flashing across her features. Toji pauses when he's halfway in, giving her time to adjust. He leans in to capture her lips in a deep, sensual kiss, letting her taste herself on his tongue.
Breaking the kiss, he gazes into her eyes, searching for any sign of distress. She’s spent, head spinning as she deeply whimpers. He resumes his gentle thrust, pushing the rest of the way into her warmth until he's fully sheathed. He stays still for a moment, savoring the incredible feel of being buried inside her.
She tries to hold it in, but the long moan that comes from the depths of her soul releases against his mouth in a way that feels embarrassing. She grabs his hair, her eyes fully rolled to the back of her head as Toji grunts, “Damn.”
Toji lets out a low groan as he starts to rock his hips slowly, grinding deep into her tight heat. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure through his body, and he can tell from her reactions that she's feeling it too.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he growls against her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. "Your pussy is gripping my dick like she needed this shit."
He picks up the pace gradually, sliding in and out of her with increasing intensity. The sounds of their flesh slapping together fill the steamy air, mingling with their heavy breaths and soft moans.
Toji grabs onto her thighs, spreading her wider as he pounds a little harder. He can feel her nails digging into his shoulders, urging him on. Yet at the same time, she’s almost pulling her hips back, nearly blacking out from how big he is.
He shakes his head, “Don’t do that. Take this shit,” he grunts, Stoney whining in response, wrapping her arms around his neck as she sucks his lips into her mouth, attempting to relax.
She leans her head against his shoulder as she digs her teeth into it, being stretched in an almost delicious pain. Her moans drop out her mouth before she even gives them permission.
Toji groans deeply as he feels her teeth sinking into his shoulder, the sharp sting only adding to the intense pleasure coursing through his veins. He loves the way she clings to him, desperate and needy.
"That's it, baby," he coaxes, his voice a low rumble. "Take every fucking inch." He punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust that makes her cry out, burying himself to the hilt inside her.
Toji captures her lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing her moans greedily. His tongue delves into her mouth, tangling with hers in a sensual dance.
“He ever fuck you like this?”
She blinks, knowing he’s referring to her ex-husband. The thought almost makes her annoyed, an arrogant side to him that she hadn’t felt before. The question burned an arousal to her at the same time.
She whispers, “Toji, stop it.”
He then pulls her forward as he takes her weight off of the wall, making sure he has a good standing position against the tile floor before he properly fixes her legs over his shoulders, holding her by her lower back.
He's suddenly lifting her up, dropping her down onto his dick in a way that makes Stoney gasp, the sound of her core clapping against his abdomen, she’s trembling out a deep moan, her eyes faltering down as she watches him do this.
Toji smirks at her reaction, pleased that she's clearly affected by his dominant display. He holds her steady as he pounds into her, each thrust sending her body jolting against his.
"Bet he can’t have you cumming all on his dick like mine, can he? Look at me.”
He grips her tightly, using the leverage to drill deeper, faster. The sound of their flesh slapping together fills the steamy air, mingling with Stoney’s wanton moans.
Her eyes roll to the back of her head again as she tries to watch him, sheepishly whimpering out to him, “Ughhh, yeah. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckk.”
Toji leans in, his breath fanning across her neck as he nips and sucks at her sensitive skin as he talks, “See that? Thats how he should’ve been fuckin’ you. Making you take—Every. Fuckin’. Inch,” through each deep thrust he gives her, seeing the pleasurable tears that collect in her eyes, seeing as she throws her hand over her mouth to stop the embarrassing moans that plummet from her mouth.
"This pussy is mine now, huh?”
Her nails dig into his upper back, back of her thighs wet from her own arousal, latching onto his abdomen each time their skin harshly makes contact, bouncing her against him.
Her eyes are dazed. She feels like she’s losing her mind as she talks back to him, “Yeahhh, baby. Fuckin’ yours,” she whimpers.
“Yeah?”
“Yeahhhh.”
“All mine?”
“Promise.”
“You sure?”
“Fuckin’ promise, baby. You’re fuckin’ me so goood,” she gasps deeply, his dark chuckle echoing in her mind as their skin claps together, Stoney squealing each time he bottoms out.
Her nails dig into his shoulders as she tries to hold on, her body trembling violently, “Oh my god, oh god, I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." she sobs, her voice rising in pitch.
"Fuck, this pussy is mine now. Gripping me like this. Milk my shit dry," he commands, grinding against her as he chases his own release.
He slams into her hard, making her moan loudly. His balls slap against her ass with each thrust, the sound echoing through the room. He leans down to capture her lips in a rough kiss, his tongue invading her mouth as he fucks her senseless.
"You're so fuckin’ tight. Like you were made for me.”
Stoney breaks the kiss, panting heavily as she looks up at him with glazed eyes as she begs, “Cum in me. Cum in me, babyy.”
Toji raises his eyebrows as he smirks, pleased by her desperation. He picks up the pace, fucking her with brutal intensity. "My dick has you talking crazy.”
She shakes her head, “Please,” she whimpers, “Don’t leave me, cum in me.”
“Not gonna’ fuckin leave you, pretty.”
Her orgasm feels close, her walls tightening at his words, almost feeling more meaningful than the moment. Pleasurable tears come to her eyes as her mouth drops open, the tears dropping as she cries softly, “Need you, I need you…”
He kisses away her tears, holding her chin gently as he stares into her eyes. He can feel her pussy fluttering around his cock, squeezing him tightly.
"Not letting you go," he whispers, his voice low and intense. He pushes into her harder, faster, chasing their release.
With a few more powerful thrusts, he buries himself deep inside her and stills, releasing directly inside her. He groans deeply, holding her close as he fills her up completely.
“Gonna cum, baby?” He asks, knowing the answer, just wanting to hear her whine, “Y—Yeah baby, I’m cumming…”
She gasps in a way she hadn’t before, as if she were breathing her last bit of air. She continues talking, “I’m…cumming. I’m cumming.”
Her moans become increasingly louder, causing Toji to grunt at the sounds, slowing his moments as they become more sloppy. He grunts as it turns into an equally low moan with her, both of them feeling their release soon.
Stoney’s climax hits, her inner walls clenching rhythmically around his thick shaft. The scream that comes from her mouth trembles along her lips, as if she didn’t expect it from herself. Toji lets out a guttural growl, his hips jerking erratically as he releases inside her. He holds her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he rides out the waves of pleasure.
After a long moment, he lifts his head, gazing down at her with a mix of satisfaction and something deeper.
“You okay?"
His voice is husky, still affected by their intense coupling. He rocks into her gently, prolonging their shared pleasure until they're both spent and satisfied. Only then does he pull out carefully, admiring how his cum drips out of her well-fucked core. He strokes her hair gently, his other hand resting possessively on her hip. Despite the post-orgasmic haze, there's a new awareness between them, a connection forged in the heat of passion.
"Mhm."
She pants softly as she tries to regain control over her breathing. Her body still tingles with aftershocks, her thighs quivering slightly from the intensity of their lovemaking.
She looks up at him, her caramel skin glowing in the dim light of the bathroom. There's a vulnerability in her eyes, a trust that she hasn't shown anyone before. It's as if she's opened herself up to him completely, and the realization sends a thrill through her chest. With that, she pulled him back into a kiss. This man was either gonna be the best thing that happened to her, or the death of her. Either way—fuck it.
🧚°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🧚°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🧚
THE SUN BLARING INTO THE HOUSE WAS WOKE HIM UP. Toji slowly opens his eyes, the bright morning sunlight streaming through the room hitting his face. He turns his head to the side and sees her next to him, her body bare and exposed, her hair covering her face.
He watches her sleeping, feeling a mixture of emotions wash over him. He feels a strange sense of peace, a comfort in having her so close to him. He reaches out a hand, gently pushing her hair away from her face so he can get a better look at her.
She stirs, turning her head the opposite of the pillow. She lets out a soft breath, “Need to get Sai up…for school.”
He smiles slightly, amused by her half-asleep state as he says, “It's still early," his voice raspy with the remnants of sleep, "Sai can sleep a little longer."
“Mmmm, can’t. Nathan’s stupid ass is picking her up. So sleepy…” she pouts, digging herself deeper into the pillow.
“I fucked you good, huh?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Toji lets out a low chuckle, amused by her sleepy grumbling. He moves a bit closer to her, his body still warm from the night before.
"Why don't you go back to sleep then? I’ll handle Nathan."
She turns her head, peeking an eye open at that. She hesitates, “…You sure? You won’t punch him?”
"Can't promise I won't want to," he replies, his voice edged with annoyance, “But I'll try to play nice for your sake."
“‘Don’t have money to bail you out…”
This makes him chuckle. Toji stands from the bed as he gives a kiss to her forehead, Stoney grunting as he gives a harsh smack to her ass.
An hour passes, Toji now sat along the porch as he smoked a cigarette, manspread along the chair as he wore only his cargos, scarred lip twisting as he re-lit the end of the object. Sai slept quietly against the sofa, packed lunch and backpack along the side of her, still in her pajamas as Stoney told him she’d be getting dressed at Nathan’s place. The birds chirped in the early morning, a stoic look among Toji’s face as he continued to smoke with the front door open. He waited.
He glances occasionally inside to check on Sai, making sure she's still sleeping peacefully. He takes a drag of his cigarette, blowing out the smoke in a steady stream.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, a car pulls up in the driveway, and Toji recognizes it as Nathan's. He lets out a rough grunt, his muscles tensing as he waits for the other man to approach the house.
As Nathan steps from the car, Toji notices that he holds a bouquet of droopy and brown tipped flowers—pink orchids. Or at least, what would’ve been pink orchids. When Nathan noticed Toji sitting along the porch, the most confused face came to his expression, only remembering him to be his ex-wife’s moving man.
Toji notices the mixture of confusion and annoyance on Nathan's face, and he can't help but snort in disdain.
“Where’s Stoney?” Nathan glares, holding the death-written flowers, eyeing Toji’s half-dressed physique.
Toji knew she was still sleeping peacefully, trying to be of help to her. His mind reflects to Stoney’s naked body passed out in the bed from their intensity within the shower. He wasn’t a dick, but maybe he wanted to be in the moment.
He lets out a sarcastic chuckle, his eyes looking Nathan up and down, "She's still sleeping," he replies, his tone casual and nonchalant.
He leans back in his chair, the smoke from his cigarette filling the air as he takes a drag, his gaze never leaving him. He can see the irritation in the other man's eyes, and Toji revels in it.
“Well can you wake her up and tell her she should’ve been the one dropping her daughter off at the front door? I need to bring Sai back to my place before dropping her off to school,” he snarled.
"She’s good. She’s asleep for a reason," he replies gruffly.
He takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing a stream of smoke in Nathan's direction which makes him cringe back. Toji then walks into the living room, taking Sai in his arms which causes her to stir awake.
She kneels into him as she blinks, “Hi, Mr. Snake Man.”
Nathan watches with disbelief as Toji walks out with Sai in his arms, the girl blinking her doe eyes at the man as he responds, “Hey, kid," his voice gruff, a small smile forming at her sleepy greeting.
He moves onto the porch, still holding Sai, as Nathan stands in the driveway with the dead flowers and a frustrated expression.
That’s when Nathan also notices the already blooming pink orchids on the porch. Toji leans towards him with a raised eyebrow as he passes Sai off to him, Sai then saying, “Bye Snake Man, take care of mommy!”
“Bye, little one. I will,” he chuckles, waving at her in the usual manner she did to him.
In all of that happening, Nathan's eyes widen as they catch a glimpse of the bedroom. His view was clear enough to see Stoney stirring in bed. Her naked body sprawls along the sheets, groaning as she pulls the comforter over her head to block the sunlight.
He looks back at Toji, his expression of astonishment and anger. Toji just smirks back at him, enjoying the other man's reaction, leaving him with one last hanging sentence.
"Yeah, she’s not getting up anytime soon.”
With that, the door slams in his face.
#jjk#Toji#toji x reader#toji x black reader#toji smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#Toji Fushiguro#Toji Fushiguro jujutsu kaisen x reader#Toji Fushiguro x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x black reader#toji x black character#black woman character
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Too Far.
Summary: He's like a wounded animal when he's angry, lashing out when he feels cornered. He's gone too far this time, snapped and said something he definitely didn't mean, so now he has to fix it.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)
TW: Fighting. Daryl is a dick, but not really, but also he is. Apologetic!Daryl. Alexandria Era. Sex.
A/N: Inspired by an excellent post by @love-norman which I'll link in the comments. I wasn't sure if you were okay with smut, so there's a fairly brief mention of sex but nothing overly explicit.
-
He’s a surprisingly effective communicator, once she can convince him to talk more and with enough time to work out exactly what ticks and grunts mean what. Daryl Dixon’s entire bag is self-sacrifice, so if he can assume that she needs him to tell her what’s going on in the always too busy head of his, he can do that for her without much care for how it impacts him. It’s not his most healthy coping mechanism but it certainly isn’t his worst and the reward? Oh, the reward is sweet. The reward is comfort and kindness and being held; being loved. What’s a moment of discomfort for a lifetime of her?
He's had to practice letting his walls down, slowly but surely since he met her, all the while failing to realise she was just digging her way underneath them. She didn’t ever pry, not really, not in any way that felt invasive, but she’d patiently wait him out; ask the question quietly, softly, and let him linger in the comfortable silence until he chose to answer back. Sometimes she’d work out the information without his need to speak at all; it happened the moment he realised he was fucked, that he was absolutely, irrefutably hers. She’d worked out exactly who he was as a person and he’d barely sad a word.
He’s attentive, and whilst that shocks him it comes as no surprise to anyone around him. He has spent his life fearing that he is exactly who he feared, but those who are lucky enough to consider themselves, correctly or not, close to Daryl never fear for much but his wellbeing. That he is a careful, thoughtful and tender partner surprises nobody but him. That’s not to say they don’t argue, the end of the world comes with its own set of tensions even without the usual relationship concerns, but he’s learnt not to bite first.
-
He shouldn’t have drunk anything, in hindsight, they’re both in bad shape, overwrought and under-fed and they shouldn’t have been at a fucking party, of all places. He definitely shouldn’t have had the four glasses of scotch Reg offered him on a mostly empty stomach. He can’t get used to the Alexandria walls, the houses he never could have afforded to breathe near let alone buy, the soft comforts he’d never had even before the end of the world. He’s never been to a party that hasn’t had a piss-stained couch or an overly full ashtray.
“You know that’s bullshit, Daryl, you’re being ridiculous!” She yells, firmly back in their own living room after he’d practically stormed out of Deanna’s. One minute they’re in full swing, standing talking about vacations from the old days with some new faces, the next his hand is dropping from around her waist and thudding from the front door like she’d said, ‘fuck off’ rather than the word ‘Canada’. He’d slammed the door behind them and snarled about how he would have embarrassed her and her fancy fucking vacations in ‘the real world’.
“Lil’ miss travel abroad and see th’ world cause she’s better than Daryl fuckin’ Dixon”
“What? That’s not-“
“I’m jus’ an idiot redneck with nothin’ an’ you’re this smart chick who saw the world, I get it, I ain’t dumb, th’ fuck would ya have wanted wit’ me?”
Her heart would shatter for him if she wasn’t seething quite so much, the sheer desperation in his words at odds with the tension in his body, clenched hands dragging through his finally clean hair. His eyes are stinging and he absolutely refuses to cry, has never gotten over thinking it makes him weak even when he feels weak.
“Daryl, what the fuck? Why are you being such an asshole?“
“Shut up, always yappin’ about stupid shit, fuckin’ hate ya sometimes!”
He turns quickly, wants to throw something, wants to scream, broad shoulders and harsh angles and all the wind leaves his body when he sees her flinch away from him. She’s cowers backwards, he feels like he’s going to be sick, body collapsing in on itself as he feels the anger leave his bones, replaced with ice laced panic. For a second, a horrifying second that feels ten times as long, he’s his old man. Shitfaced and angry with a glass in hand and if he had a mirror, he knows exactly whose face he’d see staring back at him.
“I would never hurt ya” he whispers, voice low and so broken, full of conviction as his breath hitches in the middle and crumbles at the end and she’d hug him if she wasn’t so shell shocked. Neither of them move for a beat, standing stock still as he trails his eyes over her, clocks the way her gaze refuses to lift to meet his. He can’t breathe. The room is too small for everything he’s feeling, like the walls are inching close and closer and the air is getting less. He tries to move like lightning but his whole body feels sluggish and slow as he inches past her and out the front door, flinching as it closes behind him and he wanders out into the street. He stares back at the house for a moment before deciding he needs a walk to clear his head.
When he comes back she’s sitting on the couch waiting for him, thumbs twiddling, head still down and worry eating her alive. He eases the door shut behind him, loud enough to tell her he’s home but soft enough to show he’s not mad. He wishes a door could convey remorse but it’s taken him long enough to be able to do it with words he doubts a block of wood would be able to in the timeframe he needs. He shucks off his boots, realising he shouldn’t have been wearing them in the house in the first place.
The fresh air has cooled his body enough that he feels less of the alcohol circulating around his system. He tries not to squeeze the flowers he’d plucked from the bush outside Aaron’s place as he stands with his back against the wood.
“’M sorry” he whispers before clearing his throat and repeating it at a higher volume. She turns her face towards him, looking at him over her shoulder. The anger is gone from her face, replaced with a dwelling worry that spikes at him, makes him replay his words over and over.
“What did I do?”
“Nothin’” he insists quickly, pauses before he realises he should say more, that she sometimes needs him to say more, they’ve talked about this “Ya didn’t, I promise”
“I’m sorry”
That does it, rips him from his safe haven by the door because he can’t stand the thought that she deserved anything he said to her, that she’d said anything wrong when he knows she hadn’t. Talking at a party, about stupid old-world stuff whilst her spare, wine glass free hand kept his back warm. She hadn’t said a damn thing wrong, and he’d scared her.
He strides over to the couch, coming round to kneel in front of her. He places the somewhat squashed flowers on the couch cushion next to her. He hovers a hand above her knee, placing it gently on the fabric of her dress when she doesn’t flinch away at the sight. He doesn’t want her to flinch ever again.
“Dun’ apologise to me when ya ain’t done nothin’ wrong”
“I’m so-“
“Dun’ ever apologise to me when i’s my fault. ‘S my shit an’ I shouldn’t take it out on ya”
She knows he loves her, has proven it time and time again, has put his body in front of hers in the face of almost certain death, would protect her with his last breath, would love her with it. But she knows she’ll never be able to unhear it, that some things you can’t take back, that she’ll always wonder, just a little bit if its true. Logic and love are very rarely intertwined.
“Okay”
He can still hear his fathers words ringing in his head, he knows, more than most, the power that words hold over people. He tries not to say anything he doesn’t mean, and he’ll admit he’s acerbic, pointed sure but never cruel, never unnecessarily unkind. He doesn’t know why tonight was different, but he takes her hands in his, locking his eyes on her so she understands.
“I dun’ get t’ speak t’ ya like that”
“No, you don’t” she agrees, voice firmer, back to her usual tone, the one he’s always loved going hand in hand with the certainty she can hold her own. She pauses, bringing his hands up to press a kiss to his knuckles, soothing because she’s terrified that after all this time, he’s still going to break them by thinking he’s not allowed to claim his hurt “You alright?”
He doesn’t answer, instead sitting back on his feet, raising a small hopeful smile at her.
“Tell me about th’ vacation”
“I don’t-“
“Please. Ya said ya still think ‘bout Canada all th’ time”
He really does want to know, he hadn’t been outside of Georgia before everything went down, and she’s mentioned travel but Canada hadn’t come up; he’s not sure if it was that, that set him off or that he felt inadequate in a room full of people with experiences he never got to have.
“I think it was my favourite trip. Packed a bag and went alone on a whim, found a lake in the forest with a little cabin. Just mountains and trees and lakes. It’s the most peaceful I’ve ever felt. I never wanted to mention it, I know you missed out on so much, but then everyone was talking and I-“
“Nah, go on, ‘S’alright”
“When Reg asked…I was going to say that’s what I picture, when I think of life outside of all of this, me and you in Canada”
“Ya think of that with me?” his voice is low, incredulous awe pulled tight at the edges, he was so busy feeling less than everyone else that he’d missed out on the fact she was thinking of him. She nods, smiling at him, working it out without him needing to say it, figuring out what drove him to snap without asking, under his walls and right in the centre of the internal world he’s built.
“We’d have a house, out near a lake with a wooden porch, and a dog, big scruffy one who likes to catch fish. We’d have coffee together overlooking the water in the morning. You’d work at the local garage, ‘cause you’re good with your hands and tools, wouldn’t have to deal with people all day, fix up all the bikes you’d secretly want...”
He’s staring her at in silence, watching her wistful face glow in the lamplight, he can barely breathe let alone find words knowing that she’s not just dreamt about a life with him, she’s thought it out in detail. He wants it, wants that life with her so badly it aches, thinks it’s the first time he’s wanted anything from life except to get through it.
“I’d work at the bar, play guitar at crappy open mic nights and you’d come for a beer after my shift to walk me home”
He hums, all the response he can manage, guilt chewing at him from the inside, clawing at his mind knowing that he’s taken his own problems out on her, told her he hates her all the while she’s dreaming of something so utterly fucking perfect.
“We’d make dinner together and dance in the living room, go camping at the weekends and make love all night long”
“In another life?” he chuckles, warm and full, knowing he’ll dream about this for the rest of his life.
“In every life…If you’d find me”
“I’d find ya”
-
He runs her a bubble bath, still amazed and confused that he can, that they’ve spent months on the road starving and struggling and here there’s a pantry that has bubble bath. The flowers from Aarons front garden are perched in a glass of water by the bed, the lamps turned off and the doors are locked up as tight as they can be. He’s insistent that he shows his apology, but he’s never had a way to do it outside these walls, nothing beyond words and affection and his experience with what women might like is limited at best.
He stands in the doorway, watching as she wraps herself in a dressing gown. He wonders idly if the amount of love he feels for her could kill him; he feels it so deeply in his bones that he physically isn’t sure it should be able to fit inside of one person. He feels it explode warmth around his body when she shuffles forward to rest her head on his chest.
“You know you don’t have to do all of this? I’m not mad”
Later, when he’s apologised again, reassured her and comforted her and she’s convinced him he’s worth loving in return, he takes them both to bed. Touches her with soft, repentant hands that have always been gentle, hands that are gentle exactly because he knows how dangerous they can be. Atonement seeping from every inch of him as he inches home inside of her, cherishes the contended sigh she lets out at the feel of him. He could never hate her, not even if he tried.
He stills when he bottoms out, rests his forehead against hers as her hips press against his firmly, dragging him as deep as he can go.
“Wha’ ya see in me, anyway?” he whispers against her lips, full of self-doubt.
She looks into him with an intensity that almost hurts, brings her hands to the sides of his face, makes sure he believes her as sincerely as she believes his apology.
“Everything”
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#the walking dead#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead: daryl dixon#the walking dead daryl dixon#the walking dead: daryl dixon spoilers#smut#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixion imagine#twd daryl#writing prompt#daryl requests#twd#writing community#daryl x oc#daryl dixon x oc#daryl x reader#the walking dead daryl#twd daryl dixon#daryl dixon x original character#daryl dixon x female reader
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Only Friends
Pairing: Gender Neutral!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: You and Spencer are best friends who act like anything but.
Content/Warnings: Oblivious mutual pining, kissing, lap sitting, teasing friends, cute little love confession at the end.
Word Count: 1.3K
Anon Request: hiii oki req (if u want pls take ur time) i think this is prob OOC butttttt spence + reader being in love and they don’t even realize it but they still kiss/ cuddle when they hang out and stuff and just say “we’re really close is all” “best friends kiss!” and stuff..
Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request
🏷️ @kr-1-sta @iluvreid @nervousmoongiver @multifandom-on-the-side @ferrjulie
Affection in friendships aren’t always the same. Some friends hugged, some friends rarely talked yet maintained a healthy friendship, some friends even showed the smallest bit of intimacy due to their comfortability.
You and Spencer were just a tad different. You two would cuddle, share brief pecks on the lips, as well as sometimes shower together whenever you were in a rush on a case and got a brief break.
It wasn’t anything inherently romantic or sexual, just something that came easy. The team was highly convinced you both had a secret relationship. Which was fair enough, however no matter how many explanations, they never seemed to be enough.
Tonight the team was having a small watch party for a new show at Penelope’s apartment. She’d been so desperate for the team to have something like a show they watched together, or special games to play together. Nobody could really say no.
You had arrived with a handful of snacks just an hour prior, helping one of your favorite coworkers set up her apartment for the night ahead. As expected, it turned from you helping to the bubbly blonde interrogating you over the aspect of a potential relationship.
“We aren’t dating, Pen.” Your head shook as you were filling a bowl with pretzels, taking it to the table in order to place it in the available space surrounded by other snacks. “I saw you guys kiss before you left the office yesterday! What kind of friends kiss each other on the lips?? If this is normal, we need to make Derek aware because I am missing out.” Penelope huffed out of frustration. “Mark my words, I will get to the bottom of this. When I find out that you are secretly dating, I will bring all of the hurt!” The blonde held up her fist while narrowing her eyes in your direction.
By the grace of all things holy, it wasn’t long until the team had slowly begun to show up. There were no more interrogations, not yet anyway. As everyone was piling up on the couch, there was very limited room for you as you walked out of the kitchen. “Fuck.” You groaned, arms crossed. “I am not sitting on the floor!”
“You can sit with me.” Spencer spoke up from his spot at the far end of the couch, his shoulders shrugging as his hand patted his thighs to offer you the spot in his lap. “Come on! This is a family friendly show! None of that.” Emily groaned, which had you rolling your eyes as you were heading over to sit yourself on your best friend’s lap.
“It’s not a big deal.” You protested her dramatics while your body was leaning into Spencer’s chest, your body snuggling closer to his as the show began at its scheduled time. However instead of enjoying the programme, you were too busy ignoring all the curious stares from your friends. “Come on!” You huffed while pushing yourself to sit up. “What is the big deal? You’re all staring like we are animals in a zoo.” In all honesty, you were annoyed with the way people stared. You were friends, doing platonic things.
“Look. Kid, I hate to say it but you two are definitely a little too close for what friends should be. What kind of friends do you know that kiss each other? And yes, I know, they are pecks. I’m just saying.” Derek put his hands up as he broke the silence.
“It’s not a crime to have a crush on one another or to date one another.” JJ added soon after while letting her shoulders shrug. “We aren’t dating though.” Spencer confirmed everything you’ve been preaching while looking at the group in confusion. “Spencer, you haven’t eaten any snacks tonight because all of our hands have been in the bowl. It makes no sense to me that you’d kiss her considering the mouth has like a bajillion germs.” Penelope added.
“Well, the mouth has over a billion different germs and we don’t know the exact amount.” He corrected as he looked up at you for help. “I assumed we were normal?” He spoke up while you nodded in agreement. “I thought we were, too.” You huffed while leaning against his chest.
“It’s not even the hugging, kissing, and lap sitting. You guys just look so head over heels from an outside perspective. I mean, you hang out together all the time, you always room together, plus you guys go out on dates. You may not look at it that way but come on. You are both profilers. How do you not pick up on how you feel about one another?” Emily asked while frowning softly.
The more they were talking and giving actual points, the more you were thinking over the course of your friendship with Spencer. You’d always been close, even after your first initial meeting when you joined the team. You could remember how shocked the team was because the typically quiet and socially awkward genius was the first one to welcome you. You’d managed to become close friends over the course of two weeks. The first time Spencer even hugged you was after a case where he’d been put in harm's way. He came to you for comfort. You.
The first time you started your pecks on the lips, it was due to a complete accident when you tried to kiss his cheek but his head turned to face you. It just seemed.. Right. No matter how flustered you both were or how you felt butterflies in your belly, you just dismissed it. You being lost in thought was concerning enough for Spencer. “Hey. Do you wanna step outside?” His voice pulled you out of your thoughts, your head nodding. “Yeah, please head out with me.”
He helped you to your feet before his hand was gently holding yours, leading you out of the room.
“How much do you wanna bet that they are gonna actually kiss out there?” Aaron spoke up after being silent a majority of the night, the team turning to the unit chief who normally wouldn’t have inserted himself. “I’ll take those odds,” Derek smirked while getting his wallet.
Out in the hallway, you had your arms crossed as you looked away from Spencer. “I know that we are best friends and I promise you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. I just really want you to tell me one thing,” You spoke while turning your head back to face him. “Did you ever, at any point, have feelings for me? Be honest.”
The words had Spencer’s face bright red, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I’ve always thought you were amazing.” He spoke while offering a shy smile. “I just didn’t want things to get weird. I like our friendship and the relationship that we have isn’t something that could be ruined. Dating friends can get messy and.. I don’t wanna live a life without you in it. I can’t even fathom a reality where you aren’t here.” He responded.
“So you did?”
“Y-yeah. I just didn’t want-”
Your hands were gripping his upper arms while you were gently shaking him. “Why didn’t you say anything?!” You asked while staring at him with wide eyes. “I’ve always been fond of you!” You added, his surprised look making you laugh softly. “God. How are we profilers?”
“You know, I’m not so sure. I think we are rusty.” Spencer responded, a little chuckle leaving his lips. “So.. Is there a chance? You know.. Us?” He asked softly while you nodded. “I do think there’s a good chance.” You responded while Spencer sighed in relief. “So it won’t be weird if I do this.”
“Do what?”
His hands were gently cupping your cheeks, taking every opportunity to press his lips against yours, much different than you were both used to but it carried the same feeling as all the little pecks have all this time. It was right. Like you were meant to be together.
“I’m pretty sure they are running bets. Do we tell them we kissed or pretend like nothing happened?”
“I want Derek to lose his money in that scenario, so let’s not tell them yet.” Spencer chuckled.
#spencer reid#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid criminal minds#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x gn!reader#spencer reid scenario#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff
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Can you write something about co-workers to friends to lovers?
fix you up
pairing: peter parker x reader
a/n: i won’t lie to y’all idk how i feel abt this one. its cute dgmw but i hope you guys like it !!! ive had this request for an EMBARRASSINGLY long time, anon if you’re upset, i totally understand
warnings: mentions of injuries, burns, rude customers, bandaging some wounds n stuff, fluff and pining !!! (disclaimer: I’ve never been a barista so forgive me if this is a lil off)
masterlist, requests are open !!
Working in a rustic-vintage-corner-campus-cafe was definitely not how you saw your college years going. Your teen self would’ve killed to work at a place like this but when you grew up, you realized just how different the workload is between a high school student and a uni one such as yourself.
You weren’t complaining of course. The pay was adequate, your manager was a simple old lady who never had much to say other than making sure all the equipment was clean, you got along with your coworkers pretty well for the most part and the customers were tolerable.
But every once in a while, you’d get an entitled shithead who seemed to make it their life’s mission to ruin someone else’s day. And the problem with working a social job such as you did, is that you were an easy target.
It started off as a fairly simple day, you clocked in and put on your apron ready to start your shift for the day. You preferred late morning shifts, leaving afternoons for classes (and the rouge 8am lecture every now and then) and nights for going out or studying.
“Oh, Y/N! Thank god you're here,” Your co-worker, Vanessa, exclaimed.
Vanessa was a few years older than you. She actually wasn’t a student, she’d given college a try and it wasn’t her thing. Apparently, all it did was “try to undermine unstoppable greatness.” She was chatty, but you actually liked that about her. She could keep up a conversation with a statue. When you first started off here she’d been the one to show you the ropes and ever since then, you’d had a specific bond with her that you couldn’t really put a name to.
You gave her a small smile, “Yeah well, I do prefer to show up when promised. Especially when my paycheck depends on it,” you let out a small laugh.
“Yes! See, that's what I love about you,” she made a disgusted face, “Unlike Peter. Honestly, I don't understand how he hasn’t been fired yet! He shows up at least half an hour late to every shift yet Miss Hannigan still keeps him around.”
“Oh,” you stuttered, raising your hands a little in defense, “I didn't mean it as a jab at Peter, I swear.”
She tossed a curled blonde lock of hair over her shoulders while waving her other hand in dismissal, “Honey, don’t worry about it. I know you would never, you’re far too sweet for that. But I wouldn’t blame you if you did, you know, having to work more than half your shift alone? I swear if Bernard did that to me,” she made a big show of gesturing to herself, "I would not deal with it.”
While what she was saying wasn’t necessarily wrong, it didn’t feel right talking about Peter like that. Sure, he was late most of the time, leaving you to do most of the work while you waited for him to show up (somehow when he started working you two got the same shift together and it’s just been that way ever since) and while you, also, normally wouldn’t put up with this, there was something different about Peter. You never felt like he was taking advantage of you, and purposefully made you pick up extra slack. It was quite the opposite actually, he always apologized profusely and never slacked when he was on the clock. He always seemed so rushed and out of breath, you were pretty sure the poor boy just needed to learn how to manage time better. Plus, he always took it upon himself to unpack the orders because of all the heavy lifting required (you couldn’t tell just by looking at him, with all the sweaters he wore, but man was he ripped.)
“He’s actually really sweet.” You’re not sure why exactly you’re so keen on defending Peter. You two barely spoke, outside of work of course, and you don’t know much about him. But something inside you didn’t like anyone assuming anything bad about him.
“Yea, well, he’d be a ton sweeter if he clocked in on time,” she laughed as she untied her apron, getting ready to leave. You faked a laugh as well, not wanting the conversation to progress any further.
“Alrighty, well,” she heaved a breath, “I'm off, have a good rest of your day Y/N.”
You smiled once again and sent a wave her way before settling down in front of the register. It was slow today, not many people in the shop. A fellow student you only recognized from work sat in a corner booth with their headphones locked in and was working on what seemed to be some kind of essay.
There was an older woman, however, looking incredibly irritated at the table closest to you. You’d never seen her before but that wasn’t too strange. It was a near-campus cafe, after all, lots of people passing through. She looked to be typing on her phone until, suddenly, she shut it off and made direct eye contact with you.
If looks could kill, you would’ve dropped dead behind the counter, which wouldn’t be all that ideal considering you couldn’t remember the last time anyone mopped that side of the store.
She stood up and walked towards you and you already dreaded the conversation to come.
“I have an order,” she spit out, as if she were disgusted to even be talking to you at the moment.
No greeting or anything, wow. Someone wasn’t raised right.
Nonetheless, you put on your well-rehearsed customer service smile and gave in. “Sure, I’d be happy to help with that. Can you just give me the order?”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I shouldn’t have to, I called in and placed it and it should be ready by now. I'm going to be late!”
You froze for a moment, not quite sure what to do, “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience ma’am, but I just got here and I haven’t heard anything,” you glance at the little whiteboard kept on the counter for these exact situations only to find it empty, “and I don’t see anything here about a phone-placed order. Are you sure you have the right store?”
Her face was so red and steam was practically blowing out of her ears, “Of course, I have the right store! Do you think I'm stupid or something?”
“No! Of course not, I'm so sorry,” you start to blabber off, not wanting to make her any angrier than she already was, “I’ll get things ready for you right away ma’am.”
You turned around and tried to make yourself not freak out as badly as you wanted to. It was so humiliating getting yelled at like this in public! And yeah, maybe if you had such a problem with unpleasant interactions like this, you shouldn't have taken a social job such as this one, but honestly, you thought people would have enough manners not to act up like this. Apparently not.
It slipped your mind for a moment because of how scrambled you got when the lady flipped her lid, but Vanessa has been known to do this, forget to write down orders and leave you to fend for yourself (quite literally since your coworker was never really around) and you’re pretty sure that’s what happened here. Other customers were usually more understanding than this woman bordering on Kathy-Bates-movie-character-insanity over a drink order.
You reached into your back pocket, deciding you’d try to send her a hurried text about any phone calls she might remember. That just seemed to anger your customer more.
“Excuse me?! I'm sitting here waiting for my order and you're too busy chatting away on your phone?”
You lose yourself for a moment and you can’t feel your face anymore.
“I am so sorry ma’am,” you repeat, which seems to be your mantra since you started working today, “I was just checking to see if-,”
“I don't care what you were checking, or what you need to see! Give me what I paid for,” her hand started smacking against the counter loud enough for the only other person in the store to look up, broken from their reverie. They merely shot you an apologetic look before getting back to their work, leaving you to fend for yourself.
“You have terrible customer service, honestly. I come here every Tuesday with my book club, but never again. If I don’t get exactly what I asked for in the next five minutes, I'm calling your boss and not leaving until I'm sure you’re fired.”
You shake your head, “There’s no need to do that ma’am, I'll get everything ready for you.”
You turned around once again, this time, heading towards the cappuccino machine. You’re not sure why you said that considering you have no clue what ‘everything’ is that has to get ready.
In all honesty, there’s a low chance that a suburban-white-soccer-mom type would have any real effect on your employment. Miss Hannigan would surely not fire you just because some order forgot to be written down and some customer got pissed. Right?
But you really didn’t want to find out.
So, you started up the machine and turned to grab a cup. Today, apparently, was just doomed from the start. As you turned to grab one of the cups placed on the shelf over the machine, your hand hit the button that turned on the steam wand. Which was aimed directly at your other hand.
You bit down the yelp that threatened to escape and jumped back, the back of your hand now searing with pain. Instinctively, your other hand came to cup your injured one, which only made it worse. You fought back tears as you moved to turn the steam back off.
Inhaling deeply, you took a moment to try to get your mind working again. “Hello?!” Of course. You turned your head and gave her the fakest smile you’ve ever mustered in your whole life. “One minute ma’am.”
You could hear her going off about how she doesn’t have a minute to spare, but you ignored her, trying to think of what the hell you could give her to just get her out of your face. You’d have to guess her order since I wasn’t actually taken. You’d started playing a game with yourself since you worked here, guessing people's drink orders, and you’d say you’ve gotten pretty good.
You peeked a look back at her. You’d had customers around her age come in before and order, for the most part, the same thing. A plain cappuccino. Seemed like a safe bet.
Swallowing down the pain as best you could, you approached the machine again. This time, taking out the portafilter. It must’ve not been put in correctly because it clattered to the ground, coffee grinds falling around the floor.
You wanted to cry. Your hand hurt like hell, there was a new mess to deal with, and that lady hadn’t stopped complaining since you stepped in.
Frozen, you began to panic a little, breaths coming out sporadically. You’d leave the sweeping for later, but you had to clean the filter so you could use it because it was the only one. And the slightest brush of air made your hand burn even more. You had no clue how to go about this. Maybe if you-
Like an angel, Peter rushed in through the side door. Tying his apron around his waist, he looked towards you. Your hand flew up to your mouth at his perfect timing and you saw his expression grow more concerned.
He rushed towards you. “What happened?” And for a second, you forget everything that was stressing you out just a few moments before. He grabbed your hand so gently, you forgot every ounce of pain.
“I cannot believe this!” She wasn’t giving up and you shut your eyes in frustration, turning to reply to her again. But before you can open your mouth, Peter steps in. “Hold on, can’t you clearly see she’s hurt?”
She scoffed and crossed her arms, “That’s her fault. If she knew how to do her job, it wouldn’t have happened.”
You could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. His expression hardened and his mouth opened to shoot something back at her, but this time, you cut him off. You placed your non-injured hand on his shoulder and gave him a look.
He stared at you for a few seconds before finally giving in, blowing out some air in a frustrated huff. “Go wait for me inside,” he told you, nodding his head toward the employees-only backroom.
“What?” You asked confused. You didn’t wanna leave him alone.
“You’re not working right now, there’s no way I’m letting you. I’ll deal with her. Go, I’ll be right there,” he said, shoving you away gently.
Once you heard that he’d be following you, you were more willing. You walked through the door and took a seat at the table usually used for meal breaks. The ‘break room’ was a small room positioned in the back of the store. You can’t remember what this place used to be (a diner maybe?) but this specific room was used as an office, but Miss Hannigan claimed she had no use for an office so it was used for employee breaks.
Every ounce of you was grateful for Peter’s Superman moment back there. He came in today earlier than usual and he’d totally saved your ass. You were going to make sure to tell him.
You weren’t waiting long before the door opened again and Peter walked in, holding a backpack you hadn’t seen on him before. In his other hand, he held a drink. He placed the drink on the table before he grabbed one of the chairs, bringing it close to yours, and you turned your body to face him.
He picked up your hand again, just as gently as before. “Alright,” he let out a breath of relief, “it’s not as bad as I thought, but, it’s still gonna take a while to heal. Wait,” he leaned over, unzipping his bag and taking supplies out while you just stared at him.
“I thought you majored in biochemistry.” You blurted out. Your face heated up a little when he looked at you curiously.
“I- I saw your textbooks once when you left your bag open. And I’ve seen you around campus, near the science-y buildings…and stuff.” You shrugged and he chuckled.
“I do,” he nodded, “any medical stuff is self-taught. I get into a lot of…accidents.”
“Oh.” You nodded at him. What kind of accidents would he get into? You’d never seen him hurt, but what did you know.
“I take it you don’t major in anything science-y,” he said, grinning at you.
You shook your head, “No, I don’t. But I have a chemistry class I have to take for credit. Which makes no sense because chemistry has nothing to do with what I want to learn.”
He laughed and set his bag back down, everything he needed was now laid out on the table. “Okay,” he picked up a white tube with red lettering on it. “This is gonna help with pain and scarring. I’m going to spread some of this, then wrap it up for you.” You looked at the table and saw he’d also taken out some white gauze. What kind of ‘accidents’ did he get into?
You nodded, at a complete loss for words. You had no idea Peter knew so much about injuries and you were so thankful he was helping you out. You didn’t hate each other, but you weren’t close either.
He applied a small amount to the back of your hand, asking you constantly if you were okay as he rubbed it on softly. Honestly, even if it did hurt, you wouldn’t have the heart to tell him.
He finished up with the cream and moved onto the gauze, expertly wrapping it up to lightly cover your wound. When he was finished with that, he carefully tied it off, making sure not to tie it too tight.
“There,” he leaned back and smiled at you, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “All fixed up.”
“Thank you, Peter, really.” You reluctantly pulled your hand back into your lap, missing the warmth of his fingers wrapped around it.
“You don’t need to thank me Y/N, it’s the least I could do. I’m just glad I got here earlier than usual.”
You nodded and looked down. “Well thanks anyway, you saved my ass back there. Seriously, I have no idea what’s wrong with me today but I kept fucking everything up.”
“Hey,” he said softly, making you look up and meet his gaze. “You didn’t fuck anything up. Okay? You made a few mistakes, but that's not your fault. She shouldn’t have been treating you like that, especially when you’d hurt yourself.” He looked away and scoffed as he remembered the terrible customer that had ruined your morning. You would’ve felt extremely touched by his care if it weren’t for his next words.
“All that for a plain fucking cappuccino.” He mumbled.
“A plain cappuccino? Really?” You asked excitedly, forgetting about everything, and grinning at him wildly.
“Um, yeah…why?” He asked you, confusion was written all over his face, but he couldn’t help his own smile slightly growing when he noticed your enthusiasm.
“Nothing,” you shook your head quickly, smile never fading, “I just…well, I play this game with myself where I guess people's drink orders. And I think I’m getting pretty good because that’s exactly what I was going to make her before you walked in.”
He laughed out loud and you joined in. “What’s my order?” He asked.
You paused for a moment. “A caramel macchiato with extra caramel.”
He looked at you for a bit, “Close,” he admitted. “It used to be.”
“So are you gonna tell me what it is now?”
Shaking his head, he leaned over the table and dragged the drink he’d brought in earlier in front of you. “Here,” he changed the subject, “I made you this.”
You’d completely forgotten about it, and when you took a closer look, you realized it was your coffee order.
Your mouth fell open, “How’d you know?”
He just shrugged, smiling slightly. He knew it was your favorite, but the confirmation was still nice. “I've seen you make it for yourself. Educated guess.”
“Oh my god,” you said, voice soft. It was a simple thing really, you had one most days at the end of your shift. But the fact that he’d noticed… It just meant a lot. “Thank you so much, Peter.”
He just waved you off, his smile growing when he noticed your reaction to the drink. He couldn’t believe he got a chance to speak to you. Truly speak to you. He was always too awkward or embarrassed or trying to avoid embarrassment. But now, while he didn’t like the circumstances that led you both here, he was actually talking to you. And it was nice.
“So,” he started, not wanting this to end just yet, “you said you’ve got a chemistry class?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, picking up your drink and taking a sip. “The one with Professor Hall. I actually have a class after this shift. I totally suck though, and he hates me. I just don’t get it, and he doesn’t explain it well!”
Peter nodded, completely understanding what you meant. It was a tough subject to begin with, and he knew not everyone was as into science as he was, add onto that a teacher who doesn’t really teach, it’s a recipe for disaster.
“I actually had that class. Last year. I can help you, sometimes. If you’d like me to, that is!” He rushed out. Great, he thought, now I’m getting awkward.
You looked up at him, eyes wide. “Really? Do you mean that?”
“Of course. I think I’ve still got my notes too, if you want ‘em.” He shrugged nonchalantly as if he wasn’t saving your ass again.
“Oh my god Peter,” you placed your non-injured hand on his knee, not noticing the way his body stiffened and he gulped. “That would help so much. There’s a huge exam coming up, and it's a huge part of my grade so I have to pass. I started cramming earlier but—”
“I’ll help,” he reassured you, “I enjoy science anyway, so it’ll be fun for me.”
“Thank you,” you repeated. Staring at him so close, you realized you’d never noticed how handsome he was. Sure there were times you thought he was cute, from afar, but now…you could see the different shades of brown in his eyes, the way one of his eyebrows was slightly curlier than the other, unwilling to sit straight. You couldn’t help but stare-
“Oh my god,” you repeated, except this time, you had remembered something. ���If we’re both in here, who’s outside?”
“What? Oh, um,” he scratched the back of his neck, still reeling from having you so close to him. “Freddy’s out there?”
“Freddy?” You asked confused.
He nodded. “The guy writing on his laptop, he’s friends with my roommate, throws the craziest parties. He’s chill, I told him to keep an eye out if someone else walks in. But it’s been slow, so I think we’re good.”
“Oh, okay.” You said, standing up. “We should probably still go though.”
He stood up beside you, frowning. “I don’t think you should work with your hand hurt. I don’t want you accidentally making it worse.”
Your heart warmed at his concern. “That's really sweet Peter, but I’ll be fine. I don’t know what happened before, I never do stuff like that, even accidentally.”
He still didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t you just go home? I can take it for today.”
You shook your head quickly, “I’m not leaving. I have a class later and it would just be a waste of time going back and forth anyway.”
You walked towards the door, opened it, and exited before he had a chance to argue anymore. You stepped behind the counter while Peter rushed out behind you. You watched Freddy give him a thumbs up and Peter nodded at him before he followed right after you.
“Are you sure you should go to class today? I can walk you home so you can take the day off,” he offered, and he looked so genuine you almost accepted.
“Peter,” you laughed and he decided no matter what your response was, it wouldn’t matter because hearing you say his name like that was enough. “I’ll be fine, I didn’t break both my legs, it's just a small burn.”
He stared at you for a bit as you smiled at him, trying to get him to ease up. “Fine,” he gave in reluctantly. “But no going towards the cappuccino machine,” he waved a finger at you, “or the ovens. Or anything hot!”
“Fine,” you shot back, grinning wide and he couldn’t help but return it.
The rest of the morning had gone by easily and you thought maybe you didn’t have totally shit luck. Peter was way more fun than you ever thought he’d be and you wondered why you didn’t start talking to each other sooner.
It used to be silently working together but after those few moments in the break room, you guys were laughing your whole shift. He meant what he said, and he kept you away from anything that produced heat (which you told him was an insane boundary to set in a cafe) so you had extra time to make quips here and there.
You started playing your order-guessing game with him, teaching him certain traits that gave someone away:
“Side part, beanie, and a crossbody? Oh, he’s getting a tall, dark, americano for sure.”
“She’s getting tea. No coffee, just tea. Maybe with a little lemon wedge.”
And he started to get the hang of it.
“She looks like she drinks matchas right?” He said to you when a girl around your age walked in. He’d been right and you both laughed about it afterwards.
When your work shift ended, you were actually upset.
“I’ve got a class to get to,” you told him, lifting your bag onto your shoulder. You’d both cleaned up and gotten yourselves ready, now standing in front of the door. Something in you didn’t want to leave just yet, enjoying your time together far too much to end it so soon.
“Yeah…” he trailed off, you waited for him to continue but he hesitated.
“What is it?” You crossed your arms and smiled slightly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, “I just…well, I was just wondering—if it's okay with you of course!” He rushed out, quickly bringing his hands up. “That I could walk you to class?”
You laughed, “I’d love that Pete, thank you.” You turned to open the door to let you both out but he quickly moved forward, holding it open for you and motioning for you to move forward.
Looking back at him, you smiled and noticed his cheeks were a little red. How had you never noticed how adorable he was?
The walk back to campus wasn’t long but you learned a lot. He told you where he went to high school, his friends he still kept in touch with, his Aunt May, some funny moments from parties he’d been forced to attend by his roommate, and you laughed together.
You told him about the book you were currently reading, your life back home and your family, and why you chose to go to this college. He went along with your jokes, which made it all the more better for you. “I mean if you think about it,” you'd said, “it is so much easier to romanticize your life when your school campus is as pretty as this one, and that’s real motivation!”
The conversation flowed naturally between you two and it felt like you’d been friends for ages. He dropped you off outside of your class building with the promise of picking you up afterward so you two could study together.
“So I’ll be back here in an hour right,” he asked.
“Right,” you smiled at him. “And thanks again Pete, for everything.” You held up your bandaged hand, shaking it a little before setting it back down.
He shook his head quickly, “Don’t thank me for that. Really.”
You stared at him with a warm expression. “Bye Peter,” you waved as you turned to walk into your class.
“Bye Y/N,” he returned. He watched you walk through the doors, shooting him one last smile before you disappeared from view, before blowing out a breath of air.
He’d finally gotten a chance to talk to the girl he’d been crushing on for months, and he got to walk her to class! And they were meeting up afterward. After working so close to you and never having the guts to initiate a conversation, he’d settled for just admiring you from afar. But after today, there was nothing that could keep him away.
You were not having a good day.
You’d just found out that your chemistry exam was being bumped up to two days from now. Even with the early studying you’d done before, there was no way you could catch up with everything that fast. You were so overwhelmed you had completely forgotten Peter was waiting for you outside.
You walked out, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, and you practically jumped out of your skin when someone placed a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey, don’t worry,” he said, his voice soft yet full of concern. Peter. “It's just me. What happened?”
The second he saw you walk out, he could tell something was off. He could literally sense the anxiety rolling off of you in waves. He had waited for you to look up and stop when you saw him, but you were just about to walk past him before he stopped you. Now, you were looking at him with distress coating every feature on your face. Your brows were pinched, your lip red from biting it, and your eyes wide and distant like you couldn’t even see him and he was standing right in front of you. Something had gone wrong and he wanted nothing more than to fix it.
“What is it? What’s wrong? He asked frantically.
“Oh my god,” you whispered, hands flying up to the sides of your head and gripping your hair. You weren’t looking at him anymore, “Oh my god.”
“Ok Y/N,” he said nervously, “you’re starting to scare me.”
“Two days Peter!” You looked at him wildly. “Two days! I can’t go over everything in two days, is he fucking insane? I didn’t even know he could do something like that, I mean, can he do something like that? I feel like that shouldn’t be allowed it should—”
You cut yourself off and started pacing back and forth in front of him. “Oh my god, I’m gonna bomb this. And if I fail, it’ll bring my whole grade down! I can’t afford that I—”
“Hey,” he repeated, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder again. “I said I’m gonna help you, and I meant it. So we’re gonna get through this together, even if we have to stay up all night.”
You stared at him, trying to wonder what you’d done in your life to deserve such an angel.
You shook your head quickly, “I really appreciate that Peter, but I’m serious. There’s no way I can learn everything I need to know that fast.”
You tried to smile at him but it didn’t reach your eyes.
He grinned, his expression the total opposite of yours. “Well, you’ve clearly never studied with me, so don’t sound too sure yet.”
Another thing you’d come to realize was just how smart Peter was.
You really should’ve known when he told you he’d taken that advanced chemistry class a year ago. And passed.
Looking through his notes, you could see his attention to detail. He really wasn’t a slacker in the classroom because everything was clearly laid out here.
You’d spent that night going over everything and you’d actually started to feel hopeful about it. Peter was a way better teacher than Professor Hall, and it didn’t hurt that he was so cute. He was understanding with everything and was willing to go over any part for as long as it took for you to fully grasp it.
At the end of the night, he’d undone the wrappings around your hand, reapplied the cream for you, and wrapped it up again.
“It’s doing okay,” he reassured you. “Like I said, it’s gonna take a while, but if it starts hurting or anything, take some medicine. Then find me.”
You were sure you’d just melted into his hands at that moment.
The next day, you couldn’t wait to get through everything and see him again, even if you were going to be talking about chemistry.
You weren’t scheduled to work at the cafe today, so you’d only get to meet up after both of your classes.
Lectures were a blur, nothing really catching your attention and you spent most of the time with your phone tucked in your hand texting back and forth with Peter, barely concealing your laughter when he sent you memes.
It was like that all day, until, finally, you made your way over to his small apartment he shared with one of his friends.
its very quaint 🤌
(totally NOT what we say to make ourselves feel better about this shoebox)
He’d told you over text, making you laugh out loud as you made your way over there.
dw🫡 I was one of those kids who used to live in their play tents and hid in random corners and spaces
im totally ready for this
ok but be warned, we do not have a pet!!! they are not allowed per our lease!!! ignore the cat when you come in!!! tell no one!!!
what cat ??
good girl ;)
Your face flushed as you made your way up the steps to his door. You knocked three times and barely had to wait a second before Peter stood before you, holding the door open.
“Hi,” he said, smiling at you.
“Hi,” you grinned back. You heard a small ‘meow’ come from behind him and he quickly held up a finger to his lips. You covered your mouth, stifling a laugh as you nodded at him.
“Come on in,” he said, stepping out of the way to lead you through the door. You stepped in and kicked off your shoes before looking around. It was plain, but that was to be expected really.
There was a large poster hanging next to their TV, however, that caught your eye. “Big fan?” You asked him, shoving your thumb in the direction of the Star Wars poster.
He shrugged nonchalantly, “Kind of.”
“Oh. Well, I was just asking because I love those movies. My little brother used to watch them and I got really into it.”
“Oh. I mean—I don’t know what I was saying before I love them too.” He rushed out, making you giggle.
He stayed staring at you for a bit, his eyes rounding out and his mouth gaping a little bit.
You gave him a small smile, “Okay, well we should-” You let out a small yelp, hands flying to your mouth as you jumped back.
The living room was small. The only things occupying it were the TV mounted to the wall, and in front of it, was a sofa. And on the sofa, was an unconscious body that you hadn’t noticed until it let out a low groan. You really weren’t sure how you missed it, there wasn’t much else to look at, but they had just been so still.
Heart beating erratically, you turned towards Peter again, who was looking at you with all the amusement in the world written all over his face. “Was he always there,” you whispered, eyes wide.
He opened his arms, “Well, angel, I really don’t know. Did you see anyone come in?”
“Oh shut up,” you grumbled. “He looks familiar…is that..”
“Freddy.” He finished for you. Right. The dude from the cafe.
“He crashes here sometimes.” He added.
You nodded. “Alright.”
“Shall we?” He opened a door beside him and looked at you.
“Right. Yeah, of course.” You walked past him and into his room. You stopped after you entered, taking a moment to look around. His room was simple, with just his bed, a desk and chair, and a dresser perched next to another door you assumed was his closet.
What really caught your attention, however, were the photos scattered all over the walls. The room was practically engulfed in Peter Parker’s memories, and you really liked it. Without thinking, you approached one wall, walking through them and taking each one in.
There were some with large groups of people, those looked like school trips. Most of the photos were of the same two people, and based on what he’d told you, you assumed those were his friends. Ned and MJ.
A lot of the photos contained an older woman, who looked stunning. That had to be his Aunt May. You were shocked by how many photos he had with the Tony Stark. He’d told you he had an internship at Stark Industries, but really, you sorta thought he just went on coffee runs all day.
And then, you saw a couple shots of Spider-Man. It wasn’t unusual, you knew a lot of people snapped photos of the masked hero when they spotted him around the city. What was unusual, was the quality of the photos. You didn’t know if you’d ever seen such clear photos of him, even on the news, as he was always swinging and in motion. In these, Peter seemed to have caught him at just the right time. You wondered how long it took him to capture the photos.
“Big fan?” You smirked over at him from your spot by one of the Spider-Man photos as you repeated your words from earlier.
Peter leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, content with watching go over the details of his life. He felt a little naked, like he was bared out in front of you. But…it felt good too. He liked knowing you were learning new things about him, and curious to know more. It filled him with an anxious sort of giddiness.
“You first,” he said slyly.
Laughing, you said, “Well, I don’t see how anyone can hate on the guy. He literally runs around saving lives”
He laughed as he approached you, standing by your side. You’d be surprised. “True I guess.”
“We should get to studying,” you said, breezing past him, your hand brushing his bicep as you did. He sucked in a breath, his entire body feeling electrocuted after that one touch. He wondered how you seemed so normal, laying out your books and papers on the floor beside his bed.
This was gonna be a long night.
He cleared his throat and moved to sit across from you, hoping he didn’t look as flushed as he felt.
After a few moments of him watching you get settled, you heard him start laughing. Looking up you asked, “What’s so funny?”
That only made him laugh harder. “Just thinking about how scared you got before. Did you really not see him?”
You felt your face go hot. “I didn’t! I had no clue he was there, and next thing I know he’s making lawn mower nosies!”
Peter was red in the face now. “The way you flew back,” he said between fits of laughter, “I thought you’d give yourself whiplash.”
“Shut up,” you grumbled at him, picking up one of your pens and throwing it at him. It bounced off without him even flinching.
You looked down, avoiding his gaze by busying yourself with your papers.
“Okay I’m ready to be serious now,” he said. The laughter was gone but amusement twinkled in his voice.
“Great! Welcome back Pete, now hand me that pen, I’m gonna need it.”
Two hours later, you were both sprawled across the floor tossing Chess-Its at one another.
“Come on!” You threw your arms up in defeat when you threw another cracker at him just for him to catch it again.
Peter chuckled, “Sorry angel, I’ve just got killer reflexes.”
“Alright whatever,” You rolled your eyes. “Come on, throw some at me.”
You opened your mouth, ready to finally win one round of this nonsense…just for a Cheez-It to hit your cheek and fall to the ground with the rest of your tries.
Peter laughed while you sat up, reached to grab the box of crackers, and poured some into your hand before putting it back down.
“Okay, I’m done. I actually want to eat them now.” You said, munching on a cracker and sitting against the side of his bed.
“Oh come on, don’t be a quitter Y/N/N,” he grinned, leaning over and pinching your cheek.
You swatted his hand away with your empty one. “M’not.”
He smiled at you before sitting up. “Hit me,” he said, opening his mouth and pointing at it.
You grabbed a Cheez-It from the palm of your hand and made a big show of trying to get your aim right. Squinting one eye, you stared at him, moving your hand back and forth before tossing it slightly more to the right. On purpose.
That didn’t stop him from leaning over and catching it in his mouth.
“I don’t like this game,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Don’t act like I don’t know what you did,” he said back, munching on his Cheez-it.
“Sue me,” you told him, brushing him off with a wave of your hand.
He laughed before he settled down. “How’s your hand feeling by the way.” His voice was considerably softer now, making you smile softly at him.
“It’s doing great, thank you again, Peter. I would’ve been totally fucked if it weren’t for you,” you told him honestly.
He shook his head, “Don’t thank me at all Y/N. Hate seeing you hurt,” he mumbled, less to you and more to himself and he stayed staring at your wrapped-up hand.
“Well don’t worry about that, it doesn’t hurt at all.”
“Yeah?” He looked at you suddenly, like he needed to know you meant it.
“Yeah,” you nodded at him.
“That’s good,” he breathed out and your heart squeezed at how much he seemed to care.
“What's your plan? Y’know, for after school?” You didn’t want to leave just yet, even with your studying done. And you wanted to know more about him. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t taken a certain liking to him lately.
“Well after I get my degree, I’m going move up a little further in Stark Industries. I’m still undecided on grad school, I think I’ve got everything I need and I’m probably just gonna start saving up to pay off student loans instead of adding on them.”
You nodded at him, “So the Stark internship is going well? No offense, I sort of thought you were their coffee mule.” You grinned at him before popping a Cheez-It in your mouth.
He scoffed, “No, I’m not. I mean, it did take a while to get them to take me seriously, but I got there!”
You laughed, “Well, very proud of you Pete. That’s super impressive.”
He grinned at you, his face heating up at your words. He wondered if you knew how much it affected him every time you called him Pete. Probably not, but he never wanted you to stop.
You two stayed like that for another hour or so, time passing by without you noticing at all. You talked about your futures, where you say yourselves after school, and after that. Your admiration for him only grew as you got to know him more. You could talk to him all night and never get bored honestly, you-
Shit.
A random notification lit up your phone, which lay beside you on the floor, making you take notice of the time.
You sat up quickly, spitting out curses as you started gathering your belongings and shoving them into your bag.
Peter sat up as well, helping you get your things together but in a calmer manner than yourself.
“Relax Y/N,” he said in a soothing voice.
“Pete I can’t do it.” You turned to him suddenly, dropping everything in your hands.
“Do what, angel?”
“The exam is tomorrow. I’m not ready! I’m gonna fail, and that one grade, that one stupid grade, is gonna hold me back and ruin everything-”
“Sweetheart look at me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip was warm and reassuring. “You are not going to fail. And I know this because I’ve spent the last few hours studying with you, and I saw how smart you are, and how quick you caught on. You’re gonna walk in there tomorrow and ace that test, I know you are!
“And if for some reason you don’t,” he continued, “you gave it your best. You tried your hardest and you learned something, which is all that matters in the end. So breathe, stop stressing, and let me walk you home.”
“All that talk as an excuse to ask to take me home?” You snorted, “Peter you shouldn’t have.” Despite your jokes, you took his advice and took a deep breath. He was right, you’d studied your hardest, both with and without his help. All you could do was take the exam and hope for the best now.
He laughed and stood up, holding out a hand once he saw you all packed and ready. “Caught me. So is that a yes?”
You took his hand and pulled yourself up but didn’t let go right away. “If I fail, do we have to stop hanging out? Y’know, with you being a science prodigy and all.”
He laughed again and placed both his hands on your shoulder, staring straight into your eyes. “Never.”
“Ok, well, just making sure. I wouldn’t wanna give you a bad rep in the science community or something-”
You were suddenly cut off from your babbling when he pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second, unsure what to do, but it didn’t take long for you to catch up and kiss him back.
He pulled away after a few moments, “Done with the jokes?” His voice was soft and teasing.
“Uh huh,” you mumbled, eyes still closed. “But I think you might need to do that again, just to be sure.”
He chuckled murmuring something that sounded like ‘too cute’ but you couldn’t be bothered to hear when you felt his lips on yours again, this time, expecting them.
You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and canting your head slightly for better access. He groaned, one arm wrapping around your middle, the other settling on your waist.
You might have pictured kissing him before, just maybe. But none of your daydreaming could’ve prepared you for the real thing. The way his bottom lip covered your top one, the soft breaths exchanged between the two of you, the way he pressed himself further into you when you tugged his hair a little harder. This definitely beat all of your daydreams.
You could’ve stayed that way forever, and you probably would’ve if Peter hadn’t taken one for the team and pulled away first.
Or tried to, at least.
“We should-” kiss.
“You-” kiss.
“I need to walk,” kiss, “-you home angel.” He murmured against your lips.
“Okay,” you whispered back but you didn’t move to pull away, and he didn’t push you. The two of you stayed stuck, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, taking in the atmosphere of each other.
“I should probably go now,” you said softly. Peter hummed in agreement, leaning in to peck your lips gently.
“It’s getting late,” but your voice is more of a sigh. You don’t know what he’s laced his lips with but each kiss makes you weak in the knees and woozier than the last one.
“God, d’yknow I’ve had the biggest crush on you.” He said, completely disregarding your previous statement.
That stops you. “What?” You asked him in disbelief. Peter had a crush on you? No way, you would’ve known.
“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, “don’t act so shocked. I was always a stuttering mess at work whenever you so much as looked at me.”
True. But you’d just thought he was a bit more on the shy side.
“I’d seen you around campus before and I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and I still do, but I thought I had no shot in hell with you. And when I got the job at the cafe and saw I’d be working with you? I almost lost my fucking mind sweetheart.” You both laughed a little and you couldn’t help the way your cheeks flamed up because of his words. Did he have any clue what he was doing to you right now?
“So I just sorta kept my distance, y’know? Admired you from afar ‘cause I was too scared you’d reject me. Sadly, it only took you nearly burning your hand off,” he gave you a look and you burst into giggles, him doing you and slightly pinching your waist, “for me to get over myself and actually keep up a conversation with you. But now I’ve got you in my room, kissing me.”
“Hmm,” you hummed, “lucky you.” You joked as leaned in to press another kiss to his lips.
“Lucky me indeed,” he murmured before pulling you in even deeper. He dipped you, making you squeal into the kiss. Then he pulled you up, unable to keep the kiss going any longer with how hard he was grinning.
“Oh my god,” you said, laughing breathlessly.
“A lot more where that came from,” he smirked at you.
“You know,” you moved to pick up your bag, “for someone who was so scared to talk to me for so long, you sure found the confidence now.”
“What can I say? You make it easy. Once I started I couldn’t stop.” You smiled at him as he gently placed a hand on your arm leading you to the door. The living room was empty now, no one to be found on the couch or otherwise and you wondered where their cat had wandered off to.
You bent over to put on your shoes, Peter doing the same. He stepped forward and opened the door for you, letting you step out before following you and locking the door.
As soon as he was done with that, you reached over and grabbed his hand. “Hey Petey?” You said lightly. Oh, he was going to melt. From now on, he only wanted you to call him that.
“Hm?”
“I’m glad you finally decided to talk to me.”
He leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Yeah? Me too angel.”
The next morning, you awoke in the brightest mood, considering you had a chemistry exam later that day. All you could think about was Peter. You were going to see him later at the cafe and you couldn’t wait.
You leaned over in bed to pick up your phone. Speak of the devil.
GOOD MORNINGGGGG❤️
hope you slept well angel, can’t wait to see you today. and you’re gonna totally ace that exam!🥰
seriously you’re going to kick chemistry’s butt
A huge smile bloomed on your face, almost hurting from how wide it was. Usually, you'd stay in bed for a while, scrolling through Instagram or just going through messages or something. Not today, you couldn’t wait to get to work. Maybe Peter was a good influence on you.
After getting ready for the day, you made your way to the cafe with a little bounce in your steps. The bell jingled above you as you opened the door and for the first time since you’d started working together, Peter was here before you.
“Hey,” he smiled, holding up your usual drink order and waving it at you.
“Hi Pete,” you approached his, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. As you pulled away, you could see how quickly his cheeks pinked, making you grin.
“No ‘Petey’?”
“Didn’t know you had a preference,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling it towards you as you took a sip from the drink and then moved to get dressed for your shift.
“Yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, wishing he could feel your hand on his for just a little longer, “neither did I.”
You laughed lightly as you tied your apron, the sound hitting him like the greatest melody in the world.
“Okay then,” you walked towards him, stopping right in front of him, “let’s start over. Hi Petey.”
“Hi angel,” he gave you a dopey grin and you returned it.
“Great, now that we’ve got that figured out.” You patted his chest lightly before taking the drink from his hands and moving away.
“Hey wait! Where’s my kiss?” He pouted at you and he looked so adorable, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and kiss him till he begged you to stop.
“We’re at work, we’ve gotta be professional.” You said matter-of-factly.
He rolled his eyes, leaned against the counter, and crossed his arms. “Professional my ass, no one is even in here-,”
Before he could even close his mouth, the bell jingled, and in stepped a boy about your age. The boy moved to one of the chairs, not moving to order just yet, giving you the chance to smirk at Peter, who just rolled his eyes again.
“What do you he’s gonna order,” he asked you.
“Hmm…a cookie, probably.” You moved lean against the counter across from him and took a sip of your drink as you smiled.
“Hey wait, you never told me what your drink order is.”
“Hmm…” he hummed in consideration before he moved towards you, grabbing your hand with the drink and bringing it up to his lips to steal a sip, maintaining eye contact the whole time.
“I’ve got to say,” he said in a low voice, “this one has really grown on me.”
You couldn’t look away, all you could do was stare. And stare, and stare, and stare…
A stranger’s voice, and then, “Hey, can I get one of those double chocolate chip cookies?”
You were just on cloud nine today.
You had taken your exam and for the first time ever in that class, you had felt confident in your work.
And to top it all off, after you’d handed in your paper and packed your things to leave, Professor Hall had given you a ‘well done’ nod. You! He’d never noticed you positively before. You were going to need to drown Peter in thank-you kisses for his help.
Speaking of Peter, you couldn’t wait to see him. He told you he’d be waiting for you after your class but when you stepped outside, there was no sign of him. You decided to sit on the building steps and wait. He was probably just running a little late, no biggie.
Big biggie. After 40 minutes of waiting for him, during which you’d sent him a little text and he hadn’t responded, you decided to head over to his place.
The walk was short and your little buzz had worn off after not getting to share it with Peter. After all, you kind of owed him most of the credit. You arrived at his apartment door, and when you knocked, it wasn't Peter who answered.
It's Freddy.
You throw on a smile. “Hi Freddy, is Peter home?”
He returned your smile as he said, “‘Sup Y/N.” He held out his fist and you stared at it for a while before you got the hint and bumped it with your own. “Pete’s not home right now, but you can totally come in and wait for him.”
You found it funny that someone who didn’t live there was inviting you in to stay, but you accepted anyway. You also had no clue how he knew your name.
You knew little about Freddy, but you knew he was sort of a campus celebrity. Every raging party there was, everyone knew Freddy was behind it.
“So,” you said as you walked in, “what year are you in Freddy?”
“Ah nah, I’m done with that shit. I took the bar,” he said casually, waving a hand and moving to sit on the couch. He kicked his feet up on the large Amazon box being used as a coffee table and picked up the open beer sitting atop it.
You stood in your place, clutching your bag. He was in grad school?
“Oh that’s awesome dude, did you not pass or something.”
“Uh uh,” he shook his head, taking a swig of beer, “got a 350.”
Your eyes widened. What. You didn’t know much about law school but you knew getting a score like that on the bar was not an easy thing.
“Wait when’d you take it?” You asked confused. The bar exam wasn’t scheduled for a few months from now.
“Last year.”
“Do you like…work at a firm or something?” It was insane to you that the party animal of this school had already graduated, and with an amazing score nonetheless.
He shook his head, “Workin' on my music right now, and if that doesn’t work out,” he gave you a wicked grin, “well I’ve always got my law degree.”
You nodded, stunned. “That’s sick dude. Good luck,” you told him, waving as you moved to wait in Peter’s room.
“Keep the door cracked kids,” he shouted towards you and you huffed a laugh as you entered the room and closed the door (leaving it open just an inch) before you sat at the foot of his bed.
You looked around for a second, taking it all in. It’s amazing how he managed to take this small space and make it so him.
After a few moments, you took out your phone to shoot him another text.
But before you could finish typing it out, the window beside you started opening and you watched as the Spider-Man fell onto the bed, not noticing you gaping right next to him.
You stayed silent, unsure of what to do or say until he moved to take his mask off. That got you moving and talking.
“Holy fuck!” You basically shout, moving away, hands flying to your mouth.
He seemed to be just as shocked as you were because he scrambled up from his lying position. And staring back at you was Peter Parker.
“What are you doing here?” He asked you, eyes wide. It wasn’t till then that you noticed the paleness of his features, his face lacking that usually healthy glow it held, the waver in his voice, and the hand clutching his bloody side.
“Holy fuck,” you repeated, voice lower, and for a whole different reason this time. “Shit Peter, you’re hurt.” You moved closer to him, temporarily forgetting everything else as your hand reached to gently remove his so you could take in the extent of his injuries.
“It’s nothing,” he said but made no move to shove you away or stop you. You moved his hand and winced at the sight that greeted you, “Looks like a whole lot more than nothing babe.”
“I’ve had worse.”
You look up at him, frowning slightly, “Not exactly reassuring Petey.”
“I feel all better now,” he said, shooting you a charming grin as soon as he heard the nickname leave your mouth. “Add a kiss in the mix, and I’ll be good as new.”
You huffed a laugh, shoving his knee slightly, “Shut up Peter. I’m serious. I’m sure you’ve got some experience with stuff like this,” you wave a hand towards his suit and injury for emphasis and he gives you a quick nod.
“Over there,” he pointed toward his dresser, “top shelf, under the blue sweater.”
You rushed over there, opening the drawer and spotting the sweater he mentioned. “I’m totally stealing that from you someday, this is your heads up,” you told him as you grabbed the large box and completely closed the door before you moved back to his side.
“You can have anything of mine, Angel. I’m sure you’d look better in it anyway.” His words made you blush, but you tried to ignore them so you could focus on the task at hand.
Peter, however, found that he really liked watching your cheeks pink up. And he wanted more.
“Lean against the headboard, now.” You said, trying to be serious again.
“God, at least buy me dinner first sweetheart.” He gave you the dorkiest smirk you’d ever seen. You just glared at him. “On the other hand,” he said as he moved backward to lean against his headboard, “I don’t need dinner, I’m all yours baby girl.”
This got you to laugh, “Peter, be serious! You’re bleeding out!” You moved to his side, “take this off by the way.” You gestured to his suit.
He hit the middle emblem of a spider and you watched as it loosened up and fell off his shoulders. You had started pulling it the rest of the way down, gulping when you realized he wasn’t wearing anything else, when he mumbled, “Not a terrible way to go.”
You refused to look up and meet his eyes but he knew he got you. Thank god he was wearing underwear, you realized, and you threw the suit to the side after you’d completely shredded him of it. He was definitely going to need a new one.
Now completely facing the damage, your stomach churned, and you were hit with the hard truth. “I…I don’t know what to do,” you whispered to him. You wanted to help him, more than anything. This man who’s been risking his life, probably since he was a teenager you realized, as you did the math silently in your head, was hurt and right in front of you, needing your help. And you needed to help him, but you didn’t know the first thing about how to approach a situation like this. You were surprised you could stare at the wound for so long.
“Don’t worry, I can do it,” he said gently, his bloody hand reaching for the huge first aid kit.
“No!” You rushed out, grabbing his hand to stop him, “No way am I letting you do that! Just…just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.
Feeling more confident, you grabbed the kit and opened it. Shock coursed you as you realized just how much he went through and your confidence fell right back down where it sprouted from. The bag was full of all the medical tools and supplies you could think of, most of them completely foreign to you, and you realized how privileged you must be to not recognize any of these things. You can’t imagine the ‘worse’ he talked about having earlier. This must be those accidents he was talking about.
“I don’t usually have to use them,” his voice was soft, almost like he was reassuring you, “usually just water and a towel does the trick. Maybe a little numbing cream. And these,” he looked down at his wounds, “some bandages, sure, but I won’t need stitches or anything.”
You let out a breath of relief, you weren’t sure you could’ve handled that. You didn’t trust yourself.
“Okay,” you said, grabbing some wipes. You were going to do this. Based on what he’d told you, he was always stitching himself back up, just to hit the streets again the next day. This time, though, was different. This time you were here to help him, and you weren’t going chicken out of this. Even a little help was better than nothing at all.
You started slowly, cleaning around his wounds so you could bandage them properly. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked you gently. “I totally understand if you need me to do it, angel, it’s a lot if you’re not used to it.”
“No,” you shook your head, your voice steady, “No way. It’s my turn to fix you up.” You told him, looking up to meet his eyes and smiling at him.
He returned it and you went back to work.
“So….Spider-Man, huh?” You peeked up quickly in question.
“Yeah,” he took a deep breath, “it’s a long story. Basically, I was bit by some spider, that shit was powerful,” you laughed a little, making him smile. “And I got some. Of its powers I mean.”
“So you get bit by a spider, that spider gives you powers, and you decide to become a New York vigilante?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” he nodded, and you laughed again.
“You’re a hell of a guy Peter Parker.” You said, shaking your head slightly.
“Thank you, I try,” he smirked at you and you laughed again.
“Okay,” you said, pulling away from his side. He almost whined in protest. Honestly, he wasn’t feeling any pain, not since you’d started worrying about him, and insisting you help him. Peter wasn’t used to that, he was always alone when it came to this part of the job. He’d never minded that before, just one of the things he had to deal with as a superhero, but now that someone else was taking care of him…it felt nice. Really nice. Especially when it was you.
“Peter?” You looked at him questioningly. Shit. You’d asked him something.
“Huh? I'm sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He said with wide eyes. He’d gotten too wrapped up in the feeling of being taken care of, not that anyone could blame him though, the girl he’d been crushing on forever was here, in his room, helping bandage him up! It's more than he could’ve dreamed of.
“It’s okay sweetie,” you said, waving him off assuming he was in pain or something. Really, now he had something new to obsess over. Sweetie? While he was practically naked (albeit injured, but he wasn’t thinking of that right now) in bed with you? God, he could just melt.
“I was just wondering which bandages,” you said, holding up the different ones you’d found in his bag.
“Oh,” he said lamely, “these ones.” He grabbed a few from you and opened them.
“Look,” he said, leaning over himself to see his wounds properly, “you’ve got to bring together both sides of the wound, then secure the bandage so that it’s holding it closed.” He talked as he placed the first bandage with you watching and listening with intent.
“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” you said as you took the rest of the bandages from him. You steadied yourself, straddling his thigh as you started placing the bandages down his wound. The biggest gash took about five, your elbow resting on his abdomen as you got lower…and lower.
Conveniently, you missed the quiver in his breath, too focused on the work at hand, but you didn’t miss the small gasp he let out when your forearm reached right between his thighs.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You said as you pulled away quickly, thinking you’d hurt him. “Did I pinch too hard?”
“No, no angel, you’re fine. Doing a great job actually.” He replied, trying to collect himself. He could not let himself think of that right now. There were more important things at hand.
“You sure?” You asked him, not looking convinced.
“Positive.” He replied, grabbing your arm and pulling you back in (but making sure to keep you at a healthy distance from his dick).
You added a few more bandages, most of the cuts only needing one or two, before pulling away again to rummage through his bag. “What do you use on your bruises?”
“This one,” he said, leaning over you and grabbing a tube from the kit. You turned, your lips almost brushing over each other with how close you were.
“Hi,” you whispered, all thoughts completely flying out of your head as you realized just how badly you wanted to kiss him.
“Hi angel,” he said smiling softly at you.
Seeing you debate it in your head, Peter decided it would be easier for the both of you if he did it first. Leaning in, he closed the distance and smoothly took your lips in his. You melted into the kiss right away, feeling like you’d been craving this your whole life when really, you’d just kissed his a few hours ago before you’d left work.
Your hands were on his bare chest, you could feel every muscle, every move when-
“Wait, you’re hurt!” You pulled away, leaving a pouting Peter in your wake.
“My lips work just fine angel,” he said, trying to steal another kiss while you tried to avoid him.
“But..let me finish at least,” you mumbled against his lips, barely getting a chance to pull away after he’d caught you.
“You can finish, just lemme do this first,” he responded before kissing you again.
“Hey,” you mumbled against his lips.
He hummed in response, moving to kiss your cheek, your jawline. If he kept this up you might not try to stop him.
“Did you know Freddy took the bar exam? And passed?”
That got him to pull away.
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at you confusedly, “I’m kissing you and you decide this a good time to bring up Freddy?”
“Well, y’know,” you shrugged, “figured it was as good a time as any.”
He scoffed, “Unbelievable.”
You giggled, “I win.” You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling away before he could catch you and turn it into more.
“Now lay down, lemme do this,” you said waving the cream at him.
He moved grumpily and you thought grumpy Peter was the cutest thing ever. The furrow of his brows, the slight pout of his lips. You could just kiss him. And you would’ve if you hadn’t known where it would lead you.
You unscrewed the cap to the cream and started applying it gently. “So Fred’s a lawyer huh?” Peter spoke up.
“He is!” You whispered excitedly, glad he was just as shocked as you were.
“And you learned this how?” He asked, giving you a look.
You shrugged. “He let me in and I talked to him, asked him a few questions to get to know him better since I see him everywhere.”
“Wait, he’s here right now?”
“Yeah,” you said slowly, “I thought you knew?”
“No I didn’t-,” he let out a sigh, “whatever it's basically his apartment too at this point I guess.”
You laughed, “And you’re okay with that?”
He shrugged with his good side. “He buys the good beer.”
You laughed again. “He scored a 350 on the bar exam!”
Peter’s brows shot up. “Oh shit.”
“I know! The only thing I knew about him was that he blacked out in that frat house’s pool all night and the cops were called cause someone thought he was dead.”
“Yeah, he’s super lucky he was on his back. Just floated around the pool like a leaf.”
You shook your head, screwing the cap back on the tube of cream, “Crazy. But anyway, I’m done. And on the plus side,” you grinned at him, “if you ever get in legal trouble, you know someone!”
He laughed out loud, and you watched as his face scrunched up and he clutched his side in pain. Apologizing for the joke, you gave him a kiss on the cheek to make up for it.
“Enough about crazy Freddy,” he let out a sigh, “I’m gonna go put some clothes on, and then I wanna cuddle with my girl.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words and all you could do was smile as he stood up, giving you a kiss on the side of your head before he moved to pick out some clothes.
You watched him get dressed, biting your lip as you watched how his muscles rippled with each of his movements. You always knew he was strong but seeing him like that, was a completely different story.
“Like what you see?” He asked, smirking at you before he lifted his shirt, holding it up between his teeth as he tied his sweatpants.
Your mouth fell open. At being caught and also at…how absolutely hot he looked right now. If he wasn’t injured, you would be all. over. him.
“S’alright angel,” he said as he stalked towards you. He was enjoying this, a lot. “I’m sure I’d be the same if the roles were reversed.”
That did not help. Now you were thinking about being naked in front of Peter and-
He laughed, kissed the side of your head again, and laid down, pulling next to him.
“Careful Peter, you’re still hurt!” You chastised him.
He shook his head, “You made me feel a hundred times better. Thank you, angel.”
“Of course Petey.” He smiled at you as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight.
“So, you came to see me right? Y’know, before the whole finding out I’m Spider-Man thing. What’s up?”
“Oh I almost forgot,” you perked up, tilting your head up so you could see his face, “I think I totally aced that chemistry exam!”
“Angel! I’m so proud of you!” He started attacking you with kisses, kissing you anywhere his lips could reach.
You giggled, “Thank you sweetie, but seriously I owe you most of the credit, I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Nonsense,” he shook his head, “that was all you. I barely helped, you learned everything and then took that quiz, and aced it.”
“Well I haven’t gotten my grade back yet, I just have a really good feeling, so don’t sound too are there's a chance I didn’t do as well as I thought.”
“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I have a sense, a spidey sense. And my spidey sense is telling me that you totally aced that thing. No questions asked.”
You laughed loudly. “Spidey sense?”
“No questions,” he repeated as he nuzzled his nose into your hair.
“Fine then,” you snuggled up further into him. “No questions.”
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ೀ⋆OCT 23RD JENIFER'S BODY ━━ eijirou kirishima + monsterfucking !
୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. eijirou kirishima + monsterfucking. there’s something weird going on with you. you’re like…actually evil. not college girl evil, and it’s kinda hot. (5.5K)
୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, friends to lovers (?), mentions of death/murder, demons, gore, choking, gags, marking, blood play, knife play, creampies, cockwarming, monsterfucking, rough sex, unprotected sex, demon + fem!reader, monster-hunter!kirishima.
୨୧ — director’s note. back again for another week! sorry for the delay on this one! it's for sure one of the spookier fics so pls proceed with caution and enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧
what does it mean to die?
by definition and according to the oxford dictionary — to die means to lose the life of a person or organism. any creature that breathes (to all capacities) the same components as air as yourself, that moves, that communicates, that exists. but what does it actually mean to die?
death is a concept the most humans find difficulty in coming to terms with. there is fear in not knowing what comes after or how it might feel when the flickering flame of your life is finally blown out. do you really see every choice you’ve ever made flash before your eyes? does it hurt? what emotions do you feel? regret, sadness, pain or happiness?
life can be so fickle, yet is always taken for granted and in a number of ways too. those that exist at this very moment don’t dare to consider the long run, they live in the moment — yes. but do they appreciate it? and then there are those that take life, disrupt the beauty of its natural course and take away a being’s chance to see the world for what it really is. to ruin their chances of love, longing and laughter. how cruel of a human do you have to be to want to hurt someone in such a way?
these are the thoughts that have plagued eijirou kirishima’s mind as of late, haunting his every waking moment from the second his eyes open, every hour in between, and to the second that they close. death has been a constant theme across the campus of yueii recently. ever since the fire at the beginning of the school year had burned the college’s local bar — it’s been everywhere.
the disappearances, the murders, the deaths.
it started with that girl, ochako uraraka, from the college cheerleading team. she went missing after a match at home and was found in the woods later on. then there was kyouka jirou — some emo looking girl who liked to skip class to play her music obnoxiously loud outside of the campus library. her friends shinsou and kaminari had been deeply affected by that.
and as of yesterday, mina ashidou.
she was the kind of girl eijirou would have been into if it wasn’t for his long-term boyfriend katsuki bakugou. she was bubbly and loud, but never treated anyone without an ounce of kindness and warmth — mina loved mornings, loved being in class and loved caring for her friends. the redhead had gotten close to her over the course of last semester, mina having joined him for a portion of his major (sports medicine) that coincided with her psych course. during that time relishing in the gift of her friendship and the kind gestures she offered like coffees for nine AM classes or sharing her notes whenever kirishima found things hard to follow.
she was found dead in one of the newly built frat houses just north of her last class with eijirou kirishima. and like most of the other victims, it looked as though she’d been chewed out by animals, as if she was scared right up until her last moments.
everyone had begged the question, who would do such a thing? why would they do it? students begin to flee, head home despite the year of lectures and assignments ahead whilst parents sent angry emails demanding that the university do more to protect their children. the killer remained at large, without a pattern, without a trademark nor a trace of evidence. nothing that could give investigators the slightest clue was ever left behind.
the only coincidence kirishima could come up with, was the very fact that you didn’t seem to care about what happened to mina even though you had been planning a date with her just hours before her death. he distinctly remembers your conversation in the halls, how you’d barely paid the pink haired girl any mind until eijirou struck up a casual (albeit, a little, flirty) conversation with her somewhere along the line. if there’s one thing that kirishima knows about you, his best friend, is that you hate when he’s the centre of attention.
he’s known you for practically as long as he’s been alive, you’ve been friends for the same amount of time too and through years of emotional bonding — eijirou has noted so many little oddities about you. things that he once adored, at least he thought that he did. you hated it when your outfits clashed, you had always jokingly claimed that it made you look like siblings rather than lovers. you were always so possessive, it took you months to accept bakugou as a partner and even more for kirishima to finally get over you… having the inkling feeling that you were leading him on.
to him, you were everything. a blessing wrapped in the shape of a wonderful human being, worth more than any gold or money a man could find. he loved you more than he should have for a friend, something he was a little too ashamed to admit — he let you take advantage of the kindest parts of his nature because of it. sometimes it almost felt like you wanted kirishima, like you needed him despite swearing that you weren't into the burly redhead. though nowadays, there’s a sinister twist in to his gut whenever you’re around — a cool chill that settles in his bones and a pang of fright to his chest where his heart is. like a knife has sliced right through it.
you’re not the same as you were before.
he gets flashes, visions of thinks he feels like he’s not supposed to see — your eyes disappearing into your skull and reappearing in a twisted shade of dark red, deep enough to rival blood diamonds and rubies. oftentimes there’s a devil’s tail and demon fangs that drip with a viscous substance akin to the one that runs through his veins and carries oxygen to his lungs. and in the days after his visions, you seem more full of life, more confident and hotter than previous ones.
that’s when it hits him, like a sturdy building coming down on eijirou all at once. rose tinted glass shatters around him, knocking his skin — making him bleed as it’s shards form a truth that he has been dreading.
whatever it is that you are, whatever it is that you’ve become is the reason for all of this death.
eijirou kirishima’s best friend… you… are a demon, a demonised college student that kills college girls for sport.
in one of his dreams, eijirou sees you soaked to the bone in blood like you've drowned in a rouge tainted oil slick. you’re still as ethereal as you’ve ever been, perhaps even glowing — and even though it’s just a dream and he knows what you’ve done, he still finds himself that boy who years for you and your body against his. on top of his. moving with his—
shooting up from the comfort of his sheets, kirishima palms the dull ache at the forefront of his mind as he tries to rid himself of all thoughts regarding you. funnily enough, you’re already there, waiting for him practically naked at the foot of his bed as if eijirou had used a demon circle to summon you in the middle of the night. it never used to be like that, where he’d call for you and you’d actually answer.
you’ve been in his room more times than he can count — put posters up with him, had sleepovers, danced to old music on his stereo tapes. but this time isn’t the same. firstly, you’ve never been bare below the waist and secondly, you’ve never looked this insane or deranged. the hairs on the back of the redhead’s neck stand on end, his spiked pulse — elevated and alive steadily thumps through him so loud he’s scared that you might hear it… and yet….
“what are you even doing here? don’t you know it’s late?” kirishima yawns, stretching out his tired limbs as he holds his arms above his head for some relief in his taut muscles.
peeking a crimson eye open to look at you, the smear of blood at the corner of your plump lips doesn’t go unnoticed by him, though, it still doesn’t elicit the reaction eijirou expects from himself. the innate human desire to survive.
“i owe you an explanation.” the smile that you give him is too fast to be genuine, just barely reaching your big shiny eyes. there’s that feeling again, the knots in eijirou’s stomach — the ones that let him know something is off. “you know what i am, i want to tell you why.” your tone is sickly sweet like molasses in his ears, innocent as if you’re not a demon.
as if you’re not the one behind all of this death. you explain to kirishima in detail about the night a group of bandmates sacrificed you to satan so that they could go global. how they mistook you for a virgin sacrifice. how the devil resides within you now. you tell him about the blood of your victims and the missing people. how it’s the only thing you can stomach. how it makes you grow stronger, how it heals you, how much you love the new version of you. the murderous you.
he thinks you might have gone insane when you flip a lighter from your pocket to burn your tongue — showing how you recover almost instantly. it’s only then that fear strikes eijirou in the chest with the power of a lightning bolt — realising that he’s well and truly lost his best friend. to satan or to insanity.
poor, gullible, eijirou kirishima — for doubting that his best friend could be capable of such heinous crimes. and while you stand there, looking more alive and more beautiful than ever… he just can’t fight the feeling that makes him want to run.
the red head quickly realises that he’s no longer faster or stronger than you. for your demon powers have you reaching the bed before he can even throw off the sheets. your toned thighs swing around his waist to lock eijirou down to the bed, his back hitting the blankets with a dull thud and his wrist nearly crushed in your hand — wrestling his concealed knife away from your chest, just barely nicking you.
“why would you want to hurt me, eiji?” you comment softly, acting as if everything is as it were before you changed. “it’s still the same old me!” the both of you are breathing deep from where your old friend thrashes underneath you, his pupils dilating and casting a dark shadow over his terrified red eyes. “i really don’t want to hurt you.”
this could be it. he thinks. his life flashing before his eyes just like the stories say. “t-then don’t…” kirishima stutters, the pitch of his voice spiking as you shift on top of him — inspecting him as if he’s a piece of meat. you have him right where you want him, his blade under your control, his vital organs open and vulnerable. one wrong move and kirishima could be next on your list of life-force victims. “you don’t have to.”
“you’re right… i don’t think i will.” cooing, you take your free hand down eijirou’s muscled body, tongue darting out to wet your lips while your hips grind down on his swelling erection — painfully hard from the mix of arousal and fear coursing through his blood stream. “on one condition,” you continue on, moaning lightly at the sensation of your clothed clit catching on his cockhead. “you let me feed from you.”
“w-will you kill me?”
“only if you stop trying to kill me.” you’re not upset, from what he can tell — revelling in your best friend’s guilt and betrayal as his knife drags along your collarbones in a thin slice from where you’ve let your guard down.
a crimson gaze flickers to all of the vital points on your face — searching for your innocence and any traces of who you once were. seizing the opportunity hiding within your hesitation and the crack in your resolve, kirishima tries once more to shove you off of him but makes the mistake of trusting your facade. he’s quick but you’re quicker, raking your nails over his toned stomach until they catch on the waistband of his shorts. as soon as his erection springs free — wetly slapping against his stomach whilst precum tangles in the coarse black of his pubic hair, you slither your hot cunt down on to him.
straight to the hilt.
your thighs either side of his angled hips keep the redhead anchored to his sheets and your hands splayed across his stomach stop him from writhing away from your quivering cunt as it clenches around him. not that he’d want to. pull out of you, of course. eijirou grows delirious, hot under the collar at the feeling of his weighty cock pulsing against your biscuits, squishy insides. a tender whimper bubbles up on his slightly chapped lips, his pointed teeth sinking into the swell of his lower one to try and muffle the pathetic sound.
he can hardly believe this. that is best friend, whatever form you might be taking right now, is sitting on his fat, drippy dick like he’s always dreamed of. any guilt kirishima has pulsing through his veins (in regards to basically cheating on bakugou, his boyfriend, no less) is replaced by white hot blistering lust. it burns at his nerve endings, painfully tremors through his erection trapped by your welcoming wet walls. it leaks against pleasure spots in the form of sticky precum — white and thick as it paints your pussy while you cockwarm him.
kirishima swallows and his adam’s apple bobs, he looks up at you through his dark long lashes without a word — afraid this his voice will fail him and end up in a moan.
“please, eijirou,” you purr, completely devoid of any blame-worthiness or evidence of your wrong doings. you’ve killed people. innocent girls for your own bloodlust and now you’re where — seated on your bestie’s dick as if your crimes mean nothing. and with a pussy like yours, wrapped around kirishima so warmly and tightly, he might start to believe that you’re innocent too. “let me feed from you, promise i won’t hurt you. i just…need…”
leaning down towards his neck, your hips shift above his own, encouraging his heavy girth to sink deeper inside of you — walls rippling pleasurably around him. the sudden movement causes a low, and needy groan to take residence in kirishima’s chest — taking root in his lungs and other vital organs. his head tips back into the pillows, ruby, blood red locks tussled against their fabric as a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead and another down his chin. tracing the ridges of his adam’s apple and the column of his throat.
his eyes don’t dare flutter shut, coasting over your every move as your lips ghost over his prominent collarbone and then his neck — pressing into his pulse pout where his heartbeat races, fear and adrenaline shooting through his body thanks to the steady thump of his heart.
you hear it all, the frightened tune of eijirou’s bodily orchestra only causing your mouth to water. “just need to taste you…” pouting, you nudge the point at which his chiselled jaw meets his neck. “need you.”
slowly but surely, your hunger reveals your truest form — and instead of the sweet girl eijirou kirishima once new, you sprout demon horns and a tail, nails that could tear a throat out, teeth that could surely cause carnage and a feral grin proving to the redhead that you would eat him alive. in contrast, your tone is sweet like syrupy honey or hard candy, the kind that eijirou loves — it’s salacious and full of wanton and he knows that he should resist. but you’ve always had a way of getting what you want out of him — he can never say no to you. you are his girl after all.
and no matter how hard he tries to escape your clutches — he will always be yours.
“f-fine,” kirishima barks, albeit shakily. “t-take what you need. just as long as you promise not to kill me.”
“pinky, baby.” comes your angelic coo, contrasting with the deep red of your own blood as it drips against kirishima’s golden boy skin. your hands massage over his sensitive pecs, smearing your hot blood over his nipples as they pebble under your fiendish touch. there’s a devilish spark in your pretty eyes once he agrees, and so, you latch onto his gorgeous, golden tanned skin ready to feed on kirishima to your heart's content.
as the pointed edge of your teeth sink into eijirou’s neck, his hips instinctively turn upwards and nudge his thick cock against your womb while layers of your juices spiral down each prominent blue vein that decorates his shaft. you bite down, hard, bruising him with shades of deep purple and midnight blue as if you’re creating a work of art. you suck the life from kirishima, close to draining his blood as if you’re a vampire fledgling with her first catch of prey.
there’s a weakness and a fuzziness that sits comfortably over eijirou’s brain, enhanced by the steady stream you set your hips — gently lifting and dropping them over the red head’s lap. the more energy, the more life force, that you drink from him — a mix of your blood and his glossing over your lips, the more turned on you feel. your cunt drips down his balls like a never ending tap, you’re so wet that a lewd slap echoes throughout your best friend’s bedroom.
even though you’re the one in control, guiding the hum of ecstasy that courses throughout kirishima's entire body, the waves that make him tingle from the top of his head to the tips of his toes — there’s no doubt that he has you losing your composure. the delicious burn of his girth against the tight rim of your entrance every time you sink down on the redhead drives you up the wall and pulls innocent whimpers from the bloody seam of your lips.
having him pressed up against your silken walls, bearing down on that special spot inside your swollen sinful pussy while you drain the man fry of his life force causes your jaw to go slack and tony spurts of his seed to coat your puffy folds. “oh fuck!” you drawl all high pitched, eyes disappearing into your skull as a bemused and blood-coated smile stretches across your angelic face. “you feel like heaven, eiji.” to pacify yourself, you lick over the puncture wound of your teeth that you’ve left against kirishima’s neck, grabbing him by the cheeks and tilting his head so you have access to the other side. “you taste so good, feel even better.”
“y-yeah?” kirishima asks, his voice shaky and extra husky from the lust. against his better judgement, clouded by all that is you — his rough hands fall to your doughy hips, manoeuvring you on his throbbing dick to his liking. “i-i like the way you fuck me, baby. but please…please move a little faster…”eijirou feels like he’s going insane beneath you chasing your sweltering and souse sex like a man following a mirage to quench his thirst. he behinds to push upward where you bounce your ass and pull off his cock, your hips rocking together fluidly.
his morals are completely abandoned, he could care less about the fact that you might be a killer, that you’re some kind of otherworldly being — especially when you ride him just like that. you release his raw bitten neck from your jaws of death, face and chin covered in blood and spit, while your hands dance down your chest and tweak at your nipples for your best friend’s viewing pleasure. he groans lowly at the sight, extending a thumb from your hip to reach between your doughy thighs and fat pussy lips so he can spread you wide open for him.
“g-getting bold, are we eiji?” you simper, ruby red lips caught between your pointy teeth when the rough pad of his thumb grazes your swollen clit as it peaks from between your folds. feverishly, you grind against kirishima’s digit, leaving a treacle-like trace of your sweet nectar against his hand. “so nasty. trying to get me off while i drain you dry. you m-must be delirious. so cute.”
he hates the way that you mock him, poke fun at how fucked up kirishima is for you. even though he knows that you’re slowly but surely killing him, drinking his blood while you take a seat on his achy, wet cock — he can’t help but give into you. eijirou wonders if this is how your other victims went out, if your precious tits swaying in their hot faces were the last thing they saw before you took them out. it’s a crude thought, but it only serves to turn him on even more. picturing you this way above others, your skin shining in the moonlight from the perspiration that glitters over you along with your glistening slit that leaves webs of your slick in his pubic hair.
while his thoughts escape him and his imagination runs wild, your next move catches the redhead by surprise. you grip his throat tight as leverage as you ride the man for dear life, pudgy thighs slapping against his strong ones, clit grinding against his pelvis and fingers. “fuck me,” eijirou begs, face twisted in rapture and guilt, cheeks as red as his hair. “fuck me harder, take what you want from me. j-just give it to me.”
it must be the lack of oxygen to his brain that obscures his view of you — the cold hearted killer on campus. because eijirou only sees his best friend, the girl he’s wanted his entire life, falling apart on his creamy cock as it bullies it’s way into your womb. he doesn’t care what you do to him as long as he keeps feeling as high as cloud nine.
the way you fuck yourself down on him right now, it’s like an out of body experience. you’re hot all over, out of control, objects and and Knick knacks around kirishima’s room levitating with the sheer amount of power and euphoria pulsating through your sweaty bodies as they move together in a shamefully slurry dance.
his head rolls to the side when you speed up, slamming your clenching cunt down on him with an erratic rhythm — a crude mix of your arousals flying about the place and wafting with the scent of metallic blood in the sex trained air. “you’re so needy, eijirou. bakugou hasn’t been taking care of you.” you tease through baited breath, throwing your hips down on him so that his milky precum spreads along your ribbed and sensitive walls.
you sink your teeth into his perfectly poised neck once more, leaving your mark and draining him of that life energy again. kirishima wails at your comment, chest heaving and eyes watering, his lungs threatening to explode with blistering lust. the more you bite at him, take his blood and his life, the more powerful eijirou feels. because you seem to have forgotten one key element to your newly found powers.
where your other victims were torn to shreds, the bites you leave on kirishima leave him with pieces of your demon abilities too.
“you can’t even respond, s’kinda pathetic, don’t you think eiji?” your words are harsher, meaner, and the red head can’t tell if it makes him want to fuck you or hate you more. “that you’re willing to let me sue you like this. take your life just like every pretty girl before you…maybe when i’m done with you, i’ll pick on your little boyfriend next—“
you truly are the fucking devil.
though everything you say is slurred and in the heat of the moment — you don’t have a chance to finish. every syllable ends in a salacious squeal when kirishima uses his newfound strength to wildly jackhammer into you. so fast and fucking hard that his weighty breeder’s balls smack against the jiggly flesh of your ass. his beefy arms snake their way around your shoulders, anchoring you to his girth while the bed creaks beneath the weight.
“will you fucking quit it?” in split second and surprising turn of events, eijirou has you flipped onto your stomach — sweaty chest to your back and cock so deep his pelvis barely peels away from your ass as it bounces for him. “you promised not to try and hurt me. but if you want it to hurt, then I’ll make it so.”
cockwarming him hardly prepared you for just how big and blessed your best friend is. chubby, fat and drooly as his cock glides through the sugar glazed lining of your gushy walls. every time your creamy hole clamps down on him, he threatens to crumble. like a mountain with an avalanche, his girth doused in your sweet essence and his breath shaky against your ear. kirishima grips at your demon’s tail where it sprouts just above your ass, stroking it lewdly just to hear you yowl for him.
the sheets below become victim to your pointed teeth, tearing through the soft linen in an attempt to calm your pornographic screams. “c’mon big guy,” you growl into the sheets, muffled, needy and amused, while you run your tongue over blood soaked teeth. “i thought you were going to make it hurt—“
“don’t test my patience, sweetheart,” your best friend snarls back as if you’re two animals fighting over land or territory — using his brute force, eijirou grips you by the back of your neck in a similar fashion to the way you did him, and yanks you onto your knees so that you’re both kneeling in the bed while eijirou fucks your wet little cunt raw. “if ‘m gonna fuck you, it’s going to be by my rules. so do me a fuckin’ favour and keep your pretty mouth shut, alright?”
the bed squeals louder than you do with this new position, eijirou angling his hips up to meet your g-spot perfectly — letting your eager pussy swallow him down. you lose control quicker than your brain can even realise, overpowered by the way the redhead brutally pounds into you, milky and heavy precum pearling along your ribbed walls like dew droplets in a black widow’s spiderweb. your sex welcome him home as if he was never meant to leave, clench on his bright red tip as you froth at his base and drop down his balls.
equally, your mouth foams with copious amounts of spit, your head hanging low while eijirou ruts you into a state of delirium. he licks the trace of drool seeping out of loud mouth and follows it up to your lips — generously feeding you his hungry moans and strings of spit. keeping you sedated, all for him while your tongues roll over one another in a fierce battle, neither of you knowing who will come out on top.
“you’re disgusting,” kirishima barks against your nape, giving it a near murderous squeeze — he fumbles around in the sheets and somehow locates the knife from before, pressing its cool blade against your skin with his free hand. you can just about hear him over the pap, pap, pap of his Rick plunging in and out of your slick walls. “don’t you feel guilty? huh? for…fuck, killing anyone?” the metal against your skin makes you moan, makes kirishima light headed and the whole ordeal so much hotter.
but you somehow manage to smirk in response, throwing it back into the red head aggressively— drowning in the pleasure. “don’t you feel guilty for fucking their killer?”
you grip the knife, pulling it closer to your vitality veins, light trails of blood from the wound smearing along kirishima’s skin meeting your skin. “why shouldn’t i kill you?”
“y-you don’t have a reason not to!” you battle through the thick drool on your tongue, hyperfocus in the precum and slick slinging between your sore thighs. you’re wrecked and ruined, losing your demon strength to your goodie two shoes best friend. “i’m a god, death doesn’t s-scare me!” with the way his dick churns you up, eijirou stretches you beyond your limits and preps you to take his impending heavy load. “f-fuck! right there, k-kiri!”
it’s so good that your demon powers activate on their own, your insides that burn bright with ecstasy grow so hot that they heat the knife pressed against you — branding eijirou’s hand with your claim until he drops the hot metal. he falters, the rhythm of his thrusts going sloppy while a creamy sound echoes between your sexes. you’ve changed and you’re right.
if eijirou kirishima really cared about your victims he would have turned you in and ended this all at the first chance. instead he dips into your demonic charm, afraid of what lies on the other end of this sinful ordeal. does he let you go? does he turn you in? does he keep his best friend here in his arms no matter what crimes you may commit?
“oh…oh eiji!” you whine, small and cute. “‘m gonna cum! please cum for me…cum with me.”
gone is his precious best friend, replaced with a slutty demon trying to selfishly such down his cock. lost in the moment of the ecstasy, you reach back and rake your talons across his skin in one last attempt to leave your mark and it’s only then that eijirou has had enough. using all of his strength, he roughly pushes you down to the sheets once more — forcing the sheets into your mouth to keep you quiet.
“i can’t stand you.” he reiterates, huffing against your shoulder while locks of his hair stick to your hot, sweaty bodies. “you’re so fucking greedy. so evil…”eijirou shifts to press his hand into the pillow next to your head, smiling sadistically at your muffled screams as he puts the last of his energy into making you cum just as you want. because you always get what you want out of him. “y-you don’t even deserve this.”
“b-but you’ll give it to me,” you pant around your mock gag, swallowing down thickly. “i’ll keep killing if i have to… you’ll still want me…”
even if it’s true, eijirou always wanting you, he can’t shake the feeling that you’re no longer the girl he used to know. used to love. his warm and kind persona you once knew is replaced with a similar demonic beast full of lust. “yeah i will and you’ll fuckin’ take it.” he threatens, continually bucking into you and nudging your g-spot in a swaying dance of sacrilege. “s-shit, you’re gettin’ tight. are you really that close, so soon?”
all you can do is nod — grabbing and biting at anything to keep yourself calm. the world around you shakes furiously and white blinds your gaze as you cum, juices splashing back onto kirishima’s meaty girth. “let me give it to you, hm? cream this pussy. make you mine like you want…” comes the red head’s last simper before the dam breaks and your demon cunt drains him dry, milking him for every last drop of his potent white seed.
the two of you are reduced to shallow breaths and heavy eyelids — exhausted from the loss of blood and sharing of demon powers.
but before you can turn around and sing kirishima your praises — the air is sucked from your lungs, a searing pain shooting through your back right through to the centre of your chest. thick, hot blood fills your lungs and the cavity in which they rest, it gathers at the corners of your cherry bitten lips and seeps through the knife wound kirishima has inflicted on you.
he’s quite literally stabbed you in the back.
he had no other choice, he couldn’t let you go on hurting people and tarnishing the image of his once best friend. you were different now, you had no place in the world anymore. it was your turn at death’s door, eijirou had decided.
“i… i’m sorry,” he says carefully, pulling out and away from you as you lay dying beneath him. “i… i couldn’t—“
with the last of your energy you offer eijirou kirishima a weak and bloody smile. “s’okay…” your breathing slows in understanding, and he lets go of the knife in your back. “so by any chance… have a tampon?”
of course you would find it in you to make a joke when faced with death. you weren’t afraid of anything.
and now, neither was kirishima.
with his newfound demon powers he wouldn’t let your death nor that of others go in vein. he would find the pro heroes who did his to you, made him do this to you, and make them pay.
a life for a life. a death for the same price.
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#୨୧ KINKTOBER 23’#kirishima x reader#kirishima smut#bnha smut#kirishima x you#kirishima thirst#eijirou kirishima smut#eijirou kirishima x reader#eijirou kirishima x you#eijiro kirishima smut#bnha x reader#kirishima eijirou smut#mha smut#mha x reader#bnha thirst#tw: monsterfucking#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#tw: gore#tteokdoroki#angelshubnetwork
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open your window
pairing - best friend! pham hanni x basketball player! female reader
synopsis - sneaking into pham hanni’s house at 2 am through her window was practically a tradition by now. you’ve done it countless times before, but tonight feels... different.
genre - pure fluff
warnings - drunk asf, swearing, and a whole lot of cute.
word count - 1.9k
— requested!
it was 2 a.m.
the time when the world outside is quiet, still, and wrapped in the embrace of sleep.
but for pham hanni, her peaceful night was disrupted by the soft buzzing of her phone on the nightstand, pulling her out of her half-asleep daze.
she squinted at the screen, trying to make out the words through her sleepy haze.
owl leader
opeb ur damn wimdoe, yanni
fvckkksjxioskejfydiej
it's freezinh out herrre
the neighbor's betch is barkimg its lungs out
dont wanna get caught by the atttractibe ghost rn skdifiif
hawhiny
...
i have a lot of nasty things to say, but let's start with this: fuck you.
owl leader
han my sweet fluffy bestie-of-the-century pooookoe bear OPEM THR DAMN FOOR
i cant stand on this sketchy-ass ladder any longer
fckkkkk it's about to collapse wljjfirowkhsgd
hawhiny
🙄
hanni groaned, her warm, cozy blanket hugging her tightly, tempting her to stay in bed.
the thought of getting up at this ungodly hour to let you in was the last thing she wanted to do.
but she knew better.
if she didn’t get up now, you'd definitely do something worse, and her night would go from bad to worse.
dragging herself out of bed with an exaggerated sigh, she padded across the room, still half-asleep, and peeked out of the window. there you were, face pressed against the glass, knocking as if your life depended on it, mouthing exaggeratedly, “OPEN THE WINDOW!”
“romeo’s here, babe! your romeo has arrived!”
hanni raised an eyebrow at the sight of you, swaying unsteadily on a ladder you most likely stole from one of the neighbors. she unlocked the window, cracking it open just enough to speak, “can’t you, for once in your life, act like a normal person and use the damn door? you’re going to get yourself killed, and i’ll have to explain why my best friend fell off a ladder at 2 a.m. because she’s a complete idiot.”
“i’m just trying to be romantic, my sweet juliet!” you slurred dramatically, struggling to keep your balance on the ladder. “f-finally, you opened up! i was freezing out here... about to turn into an icicle!”
hanni rolled her eyes, knowing all too well what was going on. she could tell just by the way your words slurred together and how you couldn’t stand still for a second.
“are you drunk?” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she opened the window wider and reached out to you.
“nah, nah… i’m just a little tipsy. nothing major, i promise.” you grinned at her, clearly not fooling anyone.
hanni gave you a look of disbelief. “uh-huh, sure. and what exactly are you doing here, stumbling around my window at 2 in the morning?”
she extended her hand to you, helping you climb in through the window, though you were so unsteady on your feet that you almost dragged her down with you.
you stumbled inside, barely managing to stay upright as you grabbed onto her hand. “well, first of all, i missed my juliet!” you declared proudly. “and secondly… WE WON THE MATCH!! BABY, LET’S GOOOO!!”
you threw your arms up in the air triumphantly, nearly knocking over hanni’s lamp in the process.
hanni flinched, quickly steadying the lamp before it could crash to the ground. “could you not scream at the top of your lungs? you’re going to wake everyone up,” she whisper-yelled, glaring at you as she hit your head.
you pouted, rubbing the spot on your head where she’d lightly smacked you. “you didn’t have to hit me! that’s child abuse, pham hanni! i could report you for that.”
“child abuse? please. you’re acting like a 5-year-old,” hanni muttered under her breath.
“you don’t understand…” you slurred. “we won the basketball match! i had to celebrate! it’s basically my job to get tipsy after a win. besides, i needed to see my Juliet.”
“right, because there’s no other reason to climb a ladder in the middle of the night,” hanni deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked down at you.
“hey, hey… don’t forget, i’m banned from your house, remember?” you pouted, looking up at her with big, sad eyes.
hanni sighed. “yeah, banned because you broke my mom’s favorite vase trying to show off your basketball skills. she’s still pissed about that, you know.”
“i swear, i didn’t mean to! jasmine was—” you paused, blinking up at her. “wait, wait, it’s fine, right? she’s not still mad about that, is she?”
“trust me, she’s over it. you’re just making excuses because you like sneaking in through the window,” hanni said, rolling her eyes.
“maybe... but, seriously, i’m romeo! you’ve gotta have a romeo in your life, and i volunteered!”
“you do realize romeo was a fucking DUDE, right?”
“details, details,” you waved her off, attempting to steady yourself but immediately losing your balance and tripping over your own feet.
you landed face-first on the floor with a loud thud.
“ow! my pride…” you groaned dramatically, holding your head.
hanni sighed, rubbing her temples as if you were giving her the world’s biggest headache. “you’re such a disaster. you’re going to wake my mom, and then we’re both dead.”
“she won’t do anything to me,” you mumbled into the floor. “she thinks i’m cute. but jasmine? oh, she’s gonna stir up everything and make your life miserable.”
hanni couldn’t help but laugh a little. “my sister? yeah, she’d definitely throw us under the bus.”
you finally managed to sit up, blinking at her. “so… what’s the plan now? do i get cuddles or what?”
hanni was dead tired.
her body screamed for the comfort of her bed, to sleep off the entire exhausting day.
she’d already argued with you for ten straight minutes, mostly because all she really wanted to do was crash. but she couldn’t just leave you alone like this—you were flailing around like an octopus. drunk as hell, stumbling and knocking over everything, and honestly, you were about two seconds away from destroying more than just her mom’s vase.
“god, you’re such a pain in my ass,” hanni muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples as she glanced at you as you dramatically throwing yourself backward onto her bed, draping an arm over your face
“why?” you shot back. “for coming through your window? you should be thanking me! you’ve got yourself a romeo climbing up here, risking life and limb to see you. who else would do that for you, huh? i missed you so much today. seriously, i came here to steal my juliet away! admit it—you love it when i do this.”
hanni stared at you like you had three heads. “again... romeo was a fuckin’ guy, you idiot.”
you giggled, rolling over and waving your arms dramatically. “well, i’m your female romeo. so come here and cuddle me! romeo demands cuddles.”
“why would i even do that?” hanni asked, still eyeing you with mild annoyance, even though the corners of her lips twitched, trying to suppress a laugh.
you blinked at her, pouting as you sat up. “c’mon, han han! you love me, right? so just cuddle me.”
she crossed her arms and sighed, but there was a softness in her eyes now. “alright, fine. but stay quiet, or my mom will—”
before she could even finish her sentence, you flung yourself onto her, wrapping her in a tight, almost suffocating hug. “there it is. my cuddly juliet,” you mumbled against her shoulder, eyes already half-shut as you melted into her.
hanni groaned. “you’re insane.”
you nodded sleepily, barely registering her words. “yeah, but i’m also insanely in love with you.”
the words spilled out of your mouth in a drunken slur, but the way you said it—so soft, so genuine—made hanni’s heart skip a beat.
for a moment, her eyes widened in shock, but she quickly brushed it off, chalking it up to the alcohol talking.
as the two of you lay there in silence, you nestled against her like a clingy cat, the peace only lasted a few minutes before your drunken brain sparked back to life.
“oh, right… forgot to ask you… the trillion-dollar question: how was your amazing date with anton lee today?”
hanni stiffened beside you, a noticeable tension creeping into her posture. “it was fine,” she mumbled, trying to sound indifferent, but there was an edge in her voice.
“fine?” You lifted your head, frowning. “no, no, no. that doesn’t sound fine. something went wrong, didn’t it? spill. i’ll break his legs if he did anything. seriously, just say the word.”
hanni exhaled, clearly not wanting to rehash the evening, but knowing you wouldn’t let it go.
“we went to see a movie, but honestly, it was kinda boring. and then we had dinner, but the entire time, he just kept talking about himself. like, dude’s obsessed with himself—he’s probably not straight, not bi, but fully autosexual. who the hell talks about themselves that much on a date? he was like, 'look at what i did,' 'i’m so amazing,' 'blah blah blah.' i was sitting there, trying not to lose my mind.”
you burst into uncontrollable laughter, snorting at the mental image of hanni suffering through the date while anton babbled on.
“oh my god, i would’ve paid to see that. but you should’ve let me take you out instead. we’d have gone somewhere fun, like a carnival or something.”
hanni rolled her eyes. “a carnival? you? please. you’d trip and fall off the first ride.”
“rude,” you said, pouting. “but i wouldn’t fall if i had you to hold my hand. i’ve got experience, remember? i’m your romeo after all.”
hanni chuckled softly, shaking her head. “yeah, yeah. anyway, what are you even going to do after graduation? you gonna work at a carnival?”
you paused, your playful demeanor dropping for a second. “i don’t know, han. sometimes i think about it, y’know? like, what comes next after university?”
the shift in your tone caught her off guard, and she glanced over at you, surprised. “yeah… i think about that too. it’s scary sometimes, isn’t it? the whole 'what comes next' thing.”
“yeah…” you sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “like, will we still be close? or will we drift apart like everyone else does after uni? my parents are all over me about my future, but i just wanna stick to basketball and… figure it out later.”
hanni’s heart tightened at your words. the thought of drifting apart from you felt like something she wasn’t ready to deal with.
“we won’t. i promise. we won’t drift apart.”
you hummed in response, your voice soft and tired. “good… ‘cause i don’t wanna lose you, han. you’re too precious. if you go away, whose window am i gonna climb?”
hanni chuckled, leaning her head against yours. “right…”
“by the way, your hair smells nice,” you mumbled, your sleepy voice slurring again as you nuzzled into her neck. “what shampoo do you use again?”
hanni rolled her eyes, her hand absentmindedly stroking your back. “you’ve asked me that a million times. don’t act like you don’t know.”
“rude…” you muttered, your voice trailing off as sleep overtook you. “anyway, i love your shampoo and… smdhidkdheuxu…”
you were out cold, leaving hanni shaking her head in disbelief.
“not this dork falling asleep after confessing her love to my shampoo,” she mumbled, glancing down at your peaceful face, your breathing steady as you slept against her.
her annoyance melted away as she watched you sleep, a soft smile tugging at her lips.
maybe you were right.
she really did love it when you climbed through her window just to see her.
maybe… just maybe, she loved it more than she’d ever admit to herself.
a/n - my brain hurts 🤕
#newjeans#new jeans x reader#fluff#fanfiction#hanni x reader#oneshot#hanni pham#pham hanni#pham hanni x reader#pham hanni x female reader#x female reader#UGHHHHHHHHHH FUCK IT
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Health and Hybrids (XXVIII)👽👻💚
[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]
🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.
💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)
Where we last left off... Danny has another hashtag breakdown! Man, we've got a lot of these, huh? It's YJ's fault this time; whoopsie doodles! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.
💚👻👽👻💚
“Danny,” Diana says from the door.
Danny looks up from his place in the book. It’s definitely aimed at younger kids, but it’s a pretty wordy picture book; there are a couple paragraphs he can’t quite parse, but he’s making pretty good progress on the words he can’t recognize.
It’s a story about a cat who misses its mother. Danny tries not to relate to it too much.
“Hm?” he asks, flipping the front flap of the dust cover over his current pages to mark his place. The book goes back onto the nightstand, beside his space shuttle; Danny uses the railing beside his bed to support himself stepping up and out of his wheelchair, leaning on the railing until he can figure out…wait, where’d he leave his old people walker?
“This walk is long. You will want your chair.”
Well, then. Couldn’t she have said that before Danny did all that pulling? Danny falls back into his chair, kinda peeved. “Fine.”
Diana smiles. She doesn’t have to wear the mask around him anymore— Danny’s pretty sure that his injuries have been declared as clotted, or sealed, or whatever at this rate. They for sure swabbed his ectoplasm and came to some kind of conclusion, anyway, which means he only looks gross, but isn’t, like…actively leaking fluids.
On the one hand, gross! But, well, you know. Nothing for it but bandaids and time.
And her face looks nice. Danny hadn’t known what she’d looked like, before. She smiles when she sees him. Her light eyes crinkle, and her lips turn up… She’s nice. Danny’s sure that she’s only there to be in charge of him in case he gets scary, but she’s in charge of him and she’s nice. She doesn’t have to be nice; lots of people have been in charge of him and been mean about it. There was that one guy who kept holding him—with the taser—
(Time slips away from him, a little. When he gets back to the world in front of him, Diana is carefully looking at his face, the back of her hand stroking the back of his.)
Danny’s in his chair. He’s not…there. He’s in his chair, on a big space station (????) with a bunch of really colorful fighters on it, and Diana is touching his hand (that’s so much weaker and slower than it used to be) and he’s not hungry and he’s only scared because of memories. He’s safe. He’s not being pinned down by the neck so that they can strap down his wrists and hips to the table—they’re not shocking him—he can move his fingers, he’s not stuck in his core—
His core throbs. Danny bites into his bisected lip, and tries not to cry.
“Are you alright?” Diana asks, voice gentled. The soft touch of her hand doesn’t stop. “We can wait. There is no—“
Danny shakes his head, and takes his hand away so he could wipe at his eyes. It’s fine. Bad memories are everywhere: in the walls, in the floor, in the ceiling, in the hands of people taking care of him. That’s not… There’s nothing Danny can do about that. That just. Takes time.
…He think he might have that time. Now. He thought he would die for good in that five by five box, waiting for something that would finally end him instead of just keeping him in a cycle of injuries he never fully healed from.
But now he’s not. He’s here.
He wants to keep going.
“Alright,” Diana says, slow and careful. “Hold on.”
Danny doesn’t hold on—or, well, you know, he engages his core muscles and all that, but he doesn’t cling to his arm rests or to the frame of his chair because he knows that Diana is really, really strong, but she also really, really doesn’t want to hurt him.
She rolls him out of the medical wing and into the space station proper. Danny feels like he’s been here before, but he doesn’t remember it super well. Maybe it was when he was sick or something? Either way, a lot of different people wave at him as they go by—or just straight up stare, if they’re rude—and Danny generally just watches people rush by, carrying all kinds of equipment, and a potted plant, and a…starfish in a jar…?
Oh, the starfish waves at him???? Danny waves back because?? What??
Danny rolls to a stop at a smooth, cylindrical elevator. It looks like a giant test tube.
…Oh boy. Danny takes a deep breath, and holds it. Reflexively. Sure, this elevator probably isn’t like being dunked into water to see if his body absorbs ambient oxygen from the atmosphere or if his biology is truly not oxygen-based, but the memory is. Bad.
They go upwards. Nothing happens but Diana’s pushed button.
Danny exhales.
They get off at a section of the base Danny’s never been to, and it's essentially just a long, somewhat narrow hallway. The walls are actually painted a creamy off-white here, and there’s…like…decorative panels towards the base of his wheels trailing down the hallway? An orange ceiling, too?
Huh??
The rooms are numbered, but they’re not plain steel like in other areas downstairs; some of them have stickers, or drawings, or marker written straight onto the door itself. They look...cozy...? Danny thinks so, anyway, compared to the rest of the ultra high tech space base.
They roll to a stop in front of a door. It’s got a number on it, same as all the others, but there’s a box cutout taped to the front of it. The—
—The print is of the same style of space shuttle Danny keeps next to his bed, inked onto glorious cardboard medium.
Danny stares.
“Gegrapa,” Diana urges, so gentle. Too bad that, uh, Danny doesn’t know that one. He looks at her. She mimes touching the door— Oh. Got it.
Danny leans forward just enough to touch the door with his fingertips.
The door says something in a robotic voice, but the synthesizer is too mangled for Danny to make out the words. The door slides open horizontally into the wall, instead of the way the other doors open like portals or from below, and it’s kind of cool?
Inside is a bedroom. Danny stares.
…No, it’s actually a bedroom. Not a medical wing, not a cot, not a repurposed conference room or—it’s actually got a bed in it. Like. A real one. There’s a wooden headboard and it’s got a mattress on it that’s thicker than a VCR.
There’s constellation sheets on a bed big enough to curl up on.
There’s a nightstand, a small desk on the far wall—there’s a little lip where the bedroom dips into a tiny sitting room, a small television on a table and a small table and chair. It’s kind of…it’s kind of like a little hotel suite.
Danny’s mouth goes dry.
He doesn’t move, and Diana doesn’t wheel him in. “It’s okay,” Diana says, and—Danny almost flinches when she touches his hair, but it’s only Diana, who’s never hit him, and they’re fine. He’s…safe. It’s safe. He’s safe here. “Do you want to go in?”
Danny doesn’t move. His hands don’t touch the wheels. They’re shaking; he puts his hands in his lap and he tries to breathe. “…What?” he asks hoarsely.
“A rum for my Danny,” Diana murmurs, quietly. Danny’s heart throbs at the possessive. “You are healthier now. You do not need doctors every hour, but only sum hours. You cuðe spenda more time here, all ana.”
Words go by so fast even at Diana's smooth, unhurried pace— and Danny licks dry, split lips. He looks around the room—and the room is small, sure, but they're in space. Space will always be a premium. Even in this small room, though, the furniture is sparse and placed distant from each other…distant enough that Danny can wheel around freely in his chair.
There’s a Moon clock display hung on the wall over the doorway, and Danny can faintly see the outline of what he assumes is the current lunar phase as seen from Earth.
Having the lamp isn’t exactly the same as glow-in-the-dark-stars, and thank goodness for that. If it had been, Danny might have cried.
(Or, he realizes, something burning in his eyes that isn’t ectoplasm, maybe he is crying.)
“...Me?” Danny asks, terrified to know the answer. Is this room for him?? Is he getting a room here? Is he supposed to stay here? On the moon?! Is he supposed to stay with everyone here, in a tiny room, where there’s nowhere to go and nowhere to escape?
…It’s a bedroom. It’s already so much more than the stupid guys in white ever gave him.
“Yes,” Diana says, and lets go of his hair. “Use it, or do not. Sitta here, or sitta in the medical bay, but now you have two choices.”
Okay. So Danny has choices. He swallows his feelings—they taste a lot like snot—and rolls himself inside to inspect the room.
There’s another little fridge inside the sitting area. It’s not right next to the bed like it is beside Danny’s cot, but it is the same style of fridge. When Danny pops the door open, it has the same styles of snacks. Fig Einsteins. Peanut butter squeezies and applesauce squeezies and yogurt squeezies. Protein shakes in bottles. Pedialight. Hummus packs.
Danny might still need someone to open the snack packs for him. That’s kind of a high dexterity food, if he thinks about it.
“If you wish to sitta here, we will visit you all you like. There is a belle at your bed,” Diana says, and walks in with all her purple scrubs and tied-up hair to point to a little button on his nightstand. It’s red. It’s got a little smiley face sticker next to it, and Danny thinks he recognizes the style from one of his nurse’s bestickered name tags. Belle is probably a direct cognate for bell. He’ll be able to get everyone to come up here if he needs help.
…Okay, that’s kind of nice. To have personal space. He hasn’t had that since… Danny’s eyes squint as he thinks; he rubs an eye. Wait, when had he been squatting under a conference table? Was that a real memory??
Diana is very tall, even in the little space, but when she ducks her head, the gesture makes her a little smaller, a little more manageable for Danny’s lower-than-usual-gaze. Now that he can see her expression, she looks soft, and even uncertain, even though she looks stone and strong on the television when she goes out to fight. “Do you like it?” she asks.
Danny fidgets.
He—does. He likes it a lot. The room doesn’t have any windows, but if Danny moved all his things in here, got used to being able to come and go, and people coming in and out…this space could be just another space. It’s quieter than the medical ward. More peaceful.
…The room is utterly devoid of other people.
(Danny thinks of The Box. Danny thinks of being in The Box.)
(Danny doesn’t like remembering The Box.)
“I am scared,” Danny admits to his twitching thumbs, his fingers itching for a fidget toy or one of his physical therapy tools. Diana’s face immediately drops.
“Why are you scared?”
I’ll be alone Danny wants to say, but he doesn’t know the word for alone and he struggled with phrasing. “No…people here.”
“That is triewe. You would have more dīegolnes here,” Diana agrees, and straightens out of her crouch. “Is that good, or bad?”
It isn’t good and it isn’t bad…? Danny isn’t sure how to phrase it. It’s neither. Being alone is just scary.
“You not hurt me,” Danny tries, knowing he’s missing some connecting word in the middle. He ignores how Diana comes back to kneel beside him, because if he looks at her, he won’t say anything. “Do not.”
“No,” Diana says, from beside and below him, gentle, careful. “We do not.”
No. They don’t. Danny swallows. “Bad…hurt me.” He doesn’t know the word for Earth or planet or even downstairs, so he just meekly points downwards.
Diana stills. It’s like watching Vlad’s Maddie cat spot a bird to hunt down. Danny tries not to feel pinned. “On eorþegearde?” she asks, still light, still gentle. Danny can hear a shadow of steel, though, and he counts himself lucky that she’s never treated him like an enemy. Danny quickly nods. His eyes squeeze shut.
“Who?” Diana asks feather-light.
Danny doesn’t want to tell them what he is. Admitting the name of the agency hunting him itself would be given in.
…But maybe if he doesn’t say the name…and they...and they promised they'd help hide him...
He wants to be right. Danny wants to be right that they're nice, and that they want to help him. Danny wants to be right that they want to protect him. As long as he never, nevernotevernever tells them he's a ghost...
Maybe someone will help him. This time.
“Bad,” Danny repeats, because he genuinely has no idea how to translate?? “Wants…hurts me? For…” WHAT WORDS DOES HE KNOW? Danny gives up and just draws a y-shaped autopsy incision on his chest. It goes down from his collarbones to his belly button.
Diana watches. Her eyes are sharp.
“Do you feel safe with the staff dunstæger in medical?” Diana is quick on the ball with the question and Danny nods quickly—he’s never alone there, and no one’s ever hurt him, and people whose job it is to help people are always coming in and out, and Medical helps them too.
“Good,” Danny whispers. “Talk…talks to me.”
“Ealne weg,” Diana affirms firmly. Whatever that means. “We will cepa you safe.”
You safe and we is all Danny needs to hear. He could probably cry by himself, but Danny wants the comfort anyway; Diana lets Danny take her hands into his, and he lets tears fall into someone else’s grip instead of his own.
*
Bruce is halfway to the monitor room before he feels himself be picked up from underneath the armpits.
Usually finding himself at inappropriate heights involves horseplay from Clark. No one else would be so bold as to actually put their hands on him within the professional setting of the Watchtower—and Bruce has worked very, very hard on maintaining a reputation that keeps the handsier of his fellows at bay.
The culprit is not Clark this time. Bruce finds himself looking downward at Diana’s tearstained face, fury and resignation warring in her expression.
Bruce is careful not to sigh. “Wonder Woman. What is the matter?”
“Someone,” Diana grits out, voice carefully modulated to cut out her own pain, “Hurt my charge.”
On the one hand, the situation with their patient is exactly as Bruce had expected. The circumstance is tragic. The circumstance was predictable.
On the other, Diana's new upset means that Bruce now has more information to work with than ever before.
Bruce can work with this.
“Tell me everything.” Bruce’s voice is just as firm—even held midair like a cat. “I will help you in every way I can.”
#HEy guess who got a covid booster took a nap so fat that SOMEONE almost suffocated and then woke up at 6am to write 1800 words of Hybrids??#Danny: so like. They don't TREAT me like a ghost. so if I just say I'm NOT a ghost..it's good right?? They won't do what mom n dad did??#Wonder Woman (seething with rage): You are NOT going to be able to stop me from killing people#Bruce very quietly: (noted)#health and hybrids#dp x dc#danny phantom#dcu crossover#dpxdc#dcxdp#tw medical#tw body horror#tw gore#although at this point we're mostly a recovery fic#this whole thing has been a recovery fic huh#the healing power of watching someone else get picked up after being punted around like a football#I think we're also a mystery fic but I'm really drawing out the details here ngl#clark is eating chips w nightwing rn they're both missing out on the action
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don't call me daddy V
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader
Word count: 4,660
Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.
Warnings: crying, age regression, fluff, a little angst
A/N: i would like to give credits for this part and its idea to🦊nonnie because without her ask there might've not been a fifth part to this story. Having said that, i'm thinking this should be the last part of the story because i am out of scenario your girl is empty. but anyway, please enjoy this one and have a tight hug xx💜💜
~
When they arrived back at her house, she was asleep in the passenger's seat.
Bucky didn’t want to wake her up. He knew she barely got any sleep last night because of the mean cough she was suffering from and so he carefully carried her inside without a word.
His heart kept speeding up every time he would remember what she called him after taking her shot as he slipped her feet out of her shoes and socks and tucked her in her bed.
He frankly had no idea what he would do if she was to wake up little and if he was ready to be a good daddy to her. What if he messed up again? He seemed to be a pro at that.
Luckily, when she woke up later that night, she was her big self again and didn’t seem to have any recollection of calling Bucky daddy, or if she did, she didn’t mention it.
Bucky gave her her cough syrup and the rest of the meds, helping her go back to sleep as he presumed his place on the floor by her bed.
In a way he couldn’t explain, even her coughs were more comfort than the silence at his house, and definitely more comfort than his nightmares.
It was 12 days of little sleep, a lot of crying, meds, movies and sleepovers until she was fully cured again, and even though Bucky hated that she was sick, those seemed to have been some of the best days he’s ever gotten to live since he’s come back to himself.
He got to laugh with someone, care for someone, comfort someone and enjoy the company of someone. And not just anyone; it was her.
But something was missing still.
Bucky wanted her to call him daddy. More than anything and from the bottom of his heart, he wanted to deserve that name, that role.
What Bucky had noticed in the days he’d stayed at her place was that she had no family pictures at all.
She had framed pictures of friends, of herself, of Corgi, but none of family members.
It didn’t come as a surprise because she’d mentioned it to him before, and he just knew that if he wanted to be her caregiver, her daddy, Bucky had to prove to her that he was nothing like those who’d hurt her. He had to prove himself worthy of taking care of her; set himself apart from them.
And to do that, he had to know more.
“I see no family pictures anywhere,” Bucky spoke as he helped her plant the new tulips she had in place.
“Yeah, we’re not close.” She shrugged, hand stuttering just the tiniest bit in their movements.
“Can I ask why?”
She sighed, “why?”
“I’m trying to learn from the mistakes of others.”
She laughed, “really?”
“Really.”
Oh, this wasn’t a joke?
“You know you don’t have to do that anymore, right?” She couldn’t understand why he would want to try again when the report was handed and he was let off the hook.
“I want to. I really want to.” Bucky wished his gloved hands weren’t muddy as they were so he could touch her face.
He found himself craving physical contact around her more often than not.
“You finally believe in the power of the program?” She teased, keeping her focus on the flowers she was rooting.
“No, I couldn’t care less about the institution and its programs.”
“Not even Mrs. Morrison?” She joked again.
“I’m serious, doll.”
“Why then?” She dropped the bulbs, deciding to face Bucky.
“I want it because it’s you I’ll be daddy to.”
“They never loved me for who I was.” She answered his previous question and Bucky felt a pang at his chest.
He had made her feel the same way.
He remained silent, not wanting to interrupt her in fear that she might stop.
“I always had to be a certain way, say certain things, act a certain way. Do what we say and then we’ll see if we can love you.”
Bucky might’ve been speechless, but his eyes spoke a million words, begging hers for forgiveness for his ignorant mistakes.
“That’s why it hurt so much when you showed me you didn’t accept the little version of me.”
“I’m so sorry-”
She shook her head, stopping him.
“I’ve been rejected for too long, Bucky, too many times. It took me a good while to finally believe that I was worth loving despite my quirks, ugly parts and possible mistakes. Took too long to teach myself that it didn’t matter if I cried all the time, was too clingy or too talkative; I was still lovable.” She pointed to her chest as she finished her words.
Bucky took his gloves off, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop himself anymore. He had no words, only anger and remorse raging inside his chest.
“It takes you a while to unlearn stuff you’ve been taught your whole life by the people who were supposed to love you the most.” She whispered into his shirt.
“Doll, I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered back.
“It’s okay.” She looked up at him, “I appreciate you, Bucky, I really do, but I don’t think I’m ready to lose everything I’ve built inside me if you decide in the middle of it that you weren’t fully ready to take on such a responsibility. I forgive you. I promise. But I don’t trust you enough to give up full control of myself and my life to you again. I’m sorry.” She pulled away from the hug, giving Bucky the option to walk away.
“Don’t be. I understand.” He remained in place.
“Are you gonna disappear now?” She wondered with a sad smile.
“No, you’re not getting rid of me so easily.” Bucky returned the smile, putting his gloves back on.
She smiled gratefully, “I don’t wanna lose you either. You’re such a great friend. And I owe you forever for taking care of me those past few days.”
“What if I prove myself to you though?” Bucky asked, dipping a tulip bulb in the soil.
“What?” She tilted her head in confusion.
“What if I show you how serious I am about this and prove myself worthy of you?”
“Bucky, you don’t have to do that. I know you have a life, responsibilities-”
“I want to do it. There’s nothing more important to me right now than this. And you.”
“If you’re doing this just because you can’t accept that you failed the program-”
“I swear on my ma’s soul, I want to do this. Because of you, doll. For you and with you.”
The words died on her tongue as she watched his sincere eyes implore hers.
“Would you give me a chance to prove myself to you? Please?”
“Okay, Bucky.” She swallowed, “one chance.”
“That’s all I need.” Bucky smiled.
She was not sick anymore and he didn’t have a reason to stick around. He also didn’t want to push her on the matter of regressing, so, respectful of her boundaries, he left.
~
After their conversation in the garden, Bucky had to go home.
His heart was heavy when he entered his empty apartment to nothing and no one. Being alone in here wasn’t something he enjoyed anymore.
It has been 2 days of intense research that Bucky has conducted on age regression and partners in little space when she texted him that night.
“Mr. Barnes, can you please come over?”
He wasn’t particularly happy about the fact that he was Mr. Barnes again, but he certainly was happy that she thought to text him when little. This was an improvement and it counted to Bucky.
“Will be right there, doll.” He texted back, running to his motorcycle.
~
Bucky took in a deep breath before knocking at her door, ready to prove himself a suitable daddy.
She opened with teary eyes, making Bucky’s heart sink.
“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked as he stepped inside.
“I can’t open the pickle jar and now my hands hurt,” she cried, showing him the insides of her palms and how red they were from trying so hard to twist the cap on the glass jar.
She was indeed a little worried that Bucky might find this stupid, that he might yell at her or get upset because she was crying over something minimal in his eyes.
But that wasn’t the case at all. The man was just thankful that she was alright.
“Oh, doll,” Bucky sighed in relief, glad that she wasn’t actually hurt.
Until he remembered that this was a big deal to her. Her hands hurt and she was frustrated because the cap wouldn’t budge.
Moments like these definitely required a daddy.
“I thought Mr. Barnes could help,” she sniffled, her hand wiping under her nose, “metal arm.” She touched his gloved hand.
Bucky chuckled, taking the pickle jar out of her hand, “what if I can do it without the metal arm? What would you give me in return?”
“The biggest pickle?” She offered, wiping her tears away from her eyes, her crying stopping at once.
Bucky laughed at her innocence, “no, I want something else, doll.”
She tilted her head expectantly.
What could Mr. Barnes possibly want? Did he want the whole jar? Would he at least leave her one pickle? She was craving pickles-
“I want you to start calling me Bucky again. No more Mr. Barnes. Can you do that for me, doll?”
Oh, that was something she could do.
“Only if you can open the jar with your not metal hand,” she challenged, her little mind amazed by the idea because look at her hand! It had red marks all over when she tried opening that jar.
“You got it,” Bucky said, easily twisting the cap on the jar open, making her mouth open with it.
“Woah,” she whispered as Bucky handed her the jar with a laugh.
“You’re welcome, doll.” He smiled, watching her chew on a crunchy pickle.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She smiled back, offering him a big pickle.
Bucky’s nerves tingled, knowing he was one step closer to her and his desired title.
~
Moving forward, Bucky learned to distinguish between her big self and little self through texts.
Her little self would always talk about him and herself in third person.
Plus, her big self always needed help with bigger things like needing Bucky to fix her sink or look at her car, knowing he might burn down the city if she went back to asking Adam for help with those things.
Her little self, on the other hand, would need help with the lighter things, the sweeter things. She would call asking for help with Corgi, something too high on a shelf or even just wanting Bucky’s company.
Tonight was one of those nights.
It was thundering more than usual and Bucky had wanted to go and be with her, but he didn’t want to invade her privacy.
But then she called and her scared voice saying his name had Bucky moving even before she uttered the words.
He was proud that she now knew that he was just only one call away; that he would come running whenever she needed. She could finally count on him to be there for her and he couldn’t be more contented.
He knew that consistency was important in relationships, especially one where she was little.
“Hey, doll, it’s okay. It’s just a little thunder,” Bucky cooed, rubbing her back as she let him inside.
“I’m not scared anymore now that Bucky is here.” She smiled, her breathing visibly slowing down.
“Well, I’m staying the night so you have nothing to worry about,” he chuckled, following her to the bedroom.
“Bucky covered his motorcycle?” she asked, worried his vehicle would get ruined.
“Leave that for now, we’ll hose it down together tomorrow when it’s sunny.”
“Corgi loves the hose,” she spoke out the first thought that came to her mind and Bucky loved it, laughing heartily at her comment.
The dog’s ears perked at the sound of his name, jumping at Bucky’s feet as soon as he entered the bedroom, waiting for his share of pets.
He bent down to give the dog some love when he heard her sigh.
“Corgi loves Bucky too.” She smiled shyly, internally wishing her name was Corgi.
“Bucky loves Corgi right back,” Bucky whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead.
She only smiled bigger, running to her bed and getting under the covers.
When Bucky got down to sleep on the floor that night, however, she slipped off her bed and right next to him.
“Doll, the floor is too cold for you. Sleep on your bed, come on.” Bucky sat up, wanting to help her up on the bed again but she wouldn’t move.
“Wanna be next to Bucky,” she said with a pout.
“But-”
“I know Bucky can’t sleep on beds. It’s okay. Doll will sleep here,” she told him, squeezing Wolfie in her arms.
Bucky’s heart fluttered and it made his mind light up with an idea only a true daddy would have.
“Do you wanna build a fort?” He suggested and her face instantly beamed with a smile as she nodded.
Of course she did!
That night as Bucky gathered all of her soft blankets to make her a floor mattress inside a fort full of fluffy pillows, he knew he was smitten.
This girl had him head over heels for her and there was nothing in the world that he wouldn’t do just to see her smile.
“Can Bucky please tell me a story?”
“Sure, doll. Do you have any books I can read to you from?”
“I have books that big me likes but I don’t want those.”
“What would you like then?”
“I want a story that is Bucky’s. Tell me a story you didn’t tell anyone at the institution.”
Oh, she was jealous. The thought made Bucky smile as he pulled the covers up to her neck to make sure she was warm down on the floor.
“Okay, you ready?” Bucky asked, dimming the lights in her room.
She made herself comfortable under the covers, big eyes watching Bucky’s handsome grin as the cozy atmosphere he’s created comforted her through the storm, “ready.”
“Once upon a time, there was a small idiot who picked up fights with boys much bigger than himself. His name was Steve…”
Bucky fell asleep with his hand stroking her hair, watching her soft breaths leave her chest that night without abruptly waking up in the middle of it for the first time in forever.
~
Bucky didn’t know what it was like to be her, but he was going to do his best to put himself in her shoes like she’d previously tried.
She deserved to be fully and entirely understood.
He witnessed a glimpse of her feelings towards the concept of family a couple of times when they would watch movies like The Lion King or Lilo and Stitch.
She didn’t seem to be affected by the death of Mufasa even though he knew her to be a very sensitive little. She was sad for Simba, of course, but not for Mufasa’s demise. Similarly with Lilo and Stitch, she didn’t care much about the concept of the family.
There was an actual barrier separating her from experiencing any positive feelings that came with the idea of family. Because she had none to associate with hers.
With some more research, Bucky managed to find a few animated movies that didn’t seem to revolve around the idea of family love and how family was everything and whatnot.
One of those movies was The Willoughbys. The movie depicted how neglecting some parents can be and that 2 people loving each other and getting married didn’t necessarily mean they would love their children too.
It was a very unique movie and Bucky was actually happy they could make such movies nowadays.
When the song I Choose You started playing in the movie, Bucky felt her small hand squeezing into a fist.
He silently wrapped his hand around hers, offering quiet comfort and support.
“Bucky chooses you, doll. Wholeheartedly.” Bucky reassured, bringing her knuckles to his lips.
He looked down to see tears in her innocent eyes as she showed her feelings for the first time during one of their movie nights.
“Bucky chooses me?” she croaked, lip trembling as she cried.
“I choose Bucky, too.” She pulled him down by one cheek to leave a kiss on the other.
Bucky froze.
It was the first time she’s kissed him since he applied that cream on her burnt hand back at his house. She did it on her own, too.
“And I choose Corgi,” she said, running her fingers through the hair of the puppy sleeping soundly on her lap.
“That’s right, and Corgi chooses you. Family doesn’t have to be the ones you were born with, doll,” Bucky told her as he wiped her tears away, “you can choose the family you want for yourself”.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him tight, afraid he might not be real and that this moment is all made up.
“You’re welcome, doll.” Bucky kissed the side of her head as they pulled away.
“Can I choose Adam, too?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper as she gauged Bucky’s reaction.
She could actually hear his chest rumble with a low “argh” before he nodded despite himself, making her giggle.
“Don’t worry. I only have one Bucky.” She reassured, slinging her arm around Bucky’s metal one.
One daddy, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. She was still scared.
~
Bucky knew that she needed her own independent time alone sometimes even when little, and he would allow her just that, texting throughout the day just to make sure she was okay, reminding her to drink water and take care of herself.
But there was one particularly hard weekend when she felt real down about some of her plants dying as the storm took them out of the ground.
When she opened the door she was clearly disheveled, hair all messy and looking like it hadn’t been brushed all week.
“Hey, doll,” Bucky spoke gently as he closed the door behind him.
She quickly ran into his arms, needing the comfort more than anything, “my plants are dead and Corgi peed on my new carpet and my hair doesn’t smell like shampoo anymore and I’m-”
Damn. She was spiraling. She just slipped out of his hug and on the floor. Oh no.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here now and I got you, okay?” Bucky tried his best to reassure her, getting on his knees before her to look into her eyes.
“Okay,” she hiccupped, nodding even though she wasn’t fully convinced.
“What happened to the plants?” Bucky wanted to handle her concerns one at a time.
“My apple trees were pulled out of place because of the storm,” she started sobbing again as she remembered what had happened to her hard word.
“Okay, okay, tell you what, I’ll put them back in place, okay?”
“Really?” She sniffed.
“Really.” Bucky smiled kindly.
“Okay.” She nodded, trying to control her breathing.
“And we’ll throw the new carpet in the washing machine, and keep Corgi in his playpen with pee pads,” Bucky gave her the steps of how the day was going to go, leading her by the hand to where Corgi was.
“Okay.” She nodded again, her tears ceasing.
“And while the carpet is being washed, I’ll help you wash your hair. Does that sound okay?” Bucky asked her permission, wanting to make sure she was completely comfortable.
“Yes.” She was finally smiling again as well.
“Okay, let’s get you in here,” Bucky told the puppy before placing him inside his playpen.
He spread a few sheets on which the dog could pee if needed before collecting the affected mat.
“Let’s take this to the washing machine,” Bucky voiced his movements, wanting to put her at ease as he kept her hand in his and walked with her to the bathroom.
“In you go.” Bucky threw the rug inside the washing machine along with some detergent.
“Now what do we do?” He asked her, wanting to keep her out of her head.
“Wash doll’s hair?” She asked with half a smile.
“That’s right, get in there.” Bucky tilted his head towards the bathtub with a smile.
~
And for some reason, it was different this time. He didn’t feel all weird seeing her naked. Maybe it was because he knew her better this time and was familiar with her in more ways than one that such intimacy didn’t startle him.
He wasn’t sure, but Bucky wasn’t complaining, only grateful as she closed her sweet eyes and trusted him to wash her hair for her.
“Alright, show me how it’s done,” Bucky encouraged, instructing her to whip her hair to the front so he could wrap the towel around it.
She did as told with a giggle, dangling her hair before her and letting Bucky wrap it up the best he could.
“Off to the couch.” Bucky chuckled as he watched her skip in her cashmere bathrobe to her couch.
Later after Bucky has brushed her hair for her, he helped her get dressed and they went outside together to replant the fallen apple saplings the wind had knocked down just like he'd promised.
The smile on her face was new and unmatched as she watched Bucky handle her plants with care.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him close, hardly wanting to let go as they stood in the middle of her garden.
Bucky was now rooted in her heart just like the plants in her garden were in their soil.
She didn’t think she could be away from him anymore. She didn’t want to be away from him anymore.
“Daddy, I’m hungry,” she whispered timidly as they started walking back to the house.
“What do you want on your piz- what did you say?” Bucky stopped in his tracks.
“I’m hungry.” She bit her lip and looked away quickly, hesitant now that his eyes were on her.
“Before that, doll.” Bucky brought her eyes back to his by her chin.
“D-daddy?”
Bucky smiled a smile that reached his eyes as they lit up with gratitude. He couldn’t believe he was finally hearing that word.
“Daddy’s thinking pizza, doll. Sound okay?”
Her face glowed up with her own smile as she witnessed Bucky, with full commitment, refer to himself as daddy.
She nodded, knowing this was going to be the most delicious pizza she was ever going to eat.
~
“What is daddy thinking?” She asked when she noticed his eyes on her, slipping a loose strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.
“Just thinking about all the things you make me feel, doll.” He smiled, turning his face to kiss her hand before it left his face.
Her face started heating up as she retracted her hand, tingles spreading all over her, “things like what?”
“You make me feel like there’s still good in this world. Like I’m worth patience and kindness and maybe even… love,” Bucky voiced his feelings, eyes dreamy as they watched her pretend to be focused on organizing her stuffies’ seats on the floor.
“You are, daddy,” she replied sincerely, hurting inside that Bucky might doubt this even a little.
“I can’t believe I was so horrible to you, doll.” Bucky’s sigh came out hot from his chest, holding so much regret.
“That’s in the past, daddy. Doll doesn’t think about it no more.” She smiled, her littler hand covering his own lovingly before giving a soothing squeeze.
“You’re just perfect, aren’t you?” Bucky held her hand up and gave the back of it a noisy kiss.
She laughed, face heating up more at the sweet attention, “no body’s perfect, remember?”
Bucky tried to continue laughing with her but he was still kicking himself for what he did to her during her visit to his house.
“How did you even tolerate me back then, doll? I was the worst.” Bucky covered his face with his hands as he threw his head back, laying on his back on the floor full of shame.
“That’s not true. You just misunderstood me and that happens!” She was quick to defend him, refusing the idea that he would even criticize himself, “daddy is the best.”
“I know, but it still gave me no right to treat you the way I did.” Bucky’s eyes teared up at the memories of his very mean words and actions, “I made you cry a lot.” He struggled to forgive himself for that one.
“Daddy, I forgave you, I swear,” she promised, her hands cradling his full cheeks.
She felt like her heart might stop from sadness if Bucky was to cry right now.
“I’m really sorry. I’m really really sorry, doll.” Bucky’s eyes were sincere, holding so much emotion in them that she felt her own begin to fill up with tears.
“Daddy, you don’t need to apologize no more,” she whispered, doing her best to hold back tears.
“You have made me the luckiest man on earth by accepting me as your caregiver, your daddy, and you’ve taught me so much, doll.” Bucky actually started crying, a lot of held-inside feelings coming out at once.
“Daddy.” Her thumb wiped under his eyes gently as she felt her own tears roll down, “don’t say stuff like that”.
“But I need to. Because you did. You taught me unconditional love and acceptance. You taught me what it means to live again. Doll, your patience with my terribleness has taught me that maybe I’m not a hopeless case after all, and that this shell of a man with a metal arm might be capable of things he thought have been wiped from his memory long ago.”
“Daddy, please stop crying,” she sobbed, pressing her forehead to his chin as her attempts at wiping his tears away have proven to be futile.
“I love you so much, doll. I love you with every old bit of me and if you’ll have me…”
“Daddy?” she raised her head, eyes on Bucky’s face, trying to read his expression.
Could Bucky really be asking what she thought he was asking?
“Doll, I want you to be my baby for more than just a few days. Would you give me that honor? Would you let me be your daddy for real?”
“Daddy, are you sure?” she nervously bit her lip.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything before.” Bucky promised.
She nodded frantically, afraid the offer might disappear if she took too long to respond, “yes.”
“Thank you, doll.” Bucky breathed as he pulled her to him, strong arms engulfing her in a protective hug.
“Daddy will not regret it later?” her eyes watched him, a small hint of doubt still tainting her trust.
“Do you like the moon, doll?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head, not understanding the relation between her question and Bucky��s answer.
“You know how our sky only has one moon?”
She nodded.
“My heart is just like that. It can only have one doll no matter how much time passes.”
“Oh.” She sniffled, trying to hold the tears in.
“I love you, doll.” Bucky gave her hair a long kiss.
“I love you, daddy.” She kissed his chest, her arms tightening their hold around him as best as she could, never wanting to be away from him again.
And she wasn’t going to be. Bucky was an idiot who let her go once; never again was he going to make that mistake.
He was blessed with her now and he was going to spend every day of his life proving he was worthy of this blessing.
~
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Hiiiii, could I make a request where Natasha goes away for a week long mission and comes back to find her and her S/O's apartment covered woth crocheted stuff? Like blankets, couch covers, pillow cases, rug, curtains, and just this massive box of little crocheted teddy animals and her S/O sat in the couch filling the second box,
because when they're stressed they crochet and Natasha's mission stressed her out so Nat walks in to find them surrounded by crocheted stuff and they're just like "...I missed you 🥰" with lots of cuddles
Stressed Stiches
Summary: When Natasha returns from her mission, she realizes just how stressed her absence made you feel. In an attempt to soothe your impending anxiety, a certain craft keeps you busy while waiting for your girlfriend’s return. Natasha Romanoff x Reader WC: 1,161 Warnings/themes: Super fluffy! A/N: I extended this request a little, I hope you enjoy! <3
The apartment door squeaked open, a cautious redhead on the other side grimacing in hopes she wouldn’t wake you up. After a week out of town on an important mission, Natasha finally returned home. You were reluctant to let her leave, knowing the kind of trouble she finds herself in time after time. Your constant text messages and calls never failed to keep your girlfriend in check—from always saying goodmorning and goodnight, to reminding her how much you love her and miss her. Every single time Natasha’s phone lit up with a message from you, she smiled, the warmth in her heart growing each time she remembered you were waiting for her at home.
Natasha glanced around the apartment, confirming you’d definitely gone to sleep. She knows you’re not one to stay up late, especially in the depths of night when she usually gets home from missions. All of the lamps were off, for once, your habit of forgetting to turn off the lights finally clicking. Natasha smiled to herself, realizing you’d really been working on being better about that.
Suddenly, the tired Widow noticed something—or someone hiding behind the couch. The intruder’s hat stuck up just enough for her to spot it, even in the low lighting. Natasha’s heart dropped, her regret about leaving you alone for this long quickly surfacing. Of course the intruder would utilize her being away to attack. Her steps slowed, the gun tucked in her bag easily being retrieved as she approached the mysterious figment with caution. Passing a light switch, she hastily flicked the overhead lights on to reveal the intruder.
But it wasn’t an intruder. It was a crocheted hat sitting on top of a pillow, among dozens of other meticulously crocheted creations. Blankets, pillows, hats, bags, and even a new set of coasters all made out of yarn—now all sprawled out across the living room. She sighed, putting her gun back in its respective spot. The feeling of guilt replaced her worry, knowing you were probably desperate to fill her absence with something else.
To say you were beside yourself with worry while she was gone was an understatement. Usually, when you were stressed, Natasha would be at your side to offer comfort. But every time she’d go on a mission, you were forced to find a new coping skill. What if Natasha gets hurt? What if she gets kidnapped? What if she has to be away even longer? The ever-flowing fears would swirl your mind like a tornado the second Natasha would leave for a mission. Nothing truly provided relief, though certain crafts would soothe the ache slightly.
This time, you’d taken up crocheting. After watching numerous videos on it and taking a trip to the craft store, the projects basically finished themselves. The entire week of Natasha’s absence was spent crocheting, stitch after stitch, creation after creation, until the apartment could barely hold your collection anymore. As the redhead looked around the room, she noticed that you didn’t just stop with smaller decorations. The old red curtains were replaced, now displaying green yarn carefully stitched into a draping veil. The rug wasn’t tan and shaggy anymore, it was blue and soft—made by hand with yarn.
Natasha always felt bad when she had to go on a mission, but you both understood it was for the good of the country. On top of that, Natasha genuinely enjoyed the work she did, even if it meant risking her life; and who were you to stop her from doing what she loved? Yet she couldn’t help but chuckle when seeing all of your creations and the lengths you went to in order to cope with your anxiety. It was sweet, the fact you’d opt to keep yourself busy by nearly redecorating the entire living room.
She saw what the impact of her absence had done to you, and luckily it would be a while until her next long mission. Eventually, as the Widow steadied her heart rate, she quietly headed into the bedroom to get ready for bed. Expecting to see your figure under the covers, she was surprised by something else entirely.
At this point, she shouldn’t have been surprised. You were there, hooking your crochet needles around a new creation in the dim lighting of the lamp. The blanket keeping you warm wasn’t the old blue duvet that was there a week ago; it was a pink crocheted comforter. Usually the other side of the bed was left empty in Natasha’s stead, but not anymore. Laying there was a box full to the brim of hand-made stuffed animals. The grin that filled the redhead’s entire face was priceless.
“You’re home!” You exclaimed, forgetting all about your project as you jumped up and hugged your girlfriend. Natasha laughed softly, her eyes lingering on your creations for an extra moment as she held you tightly.
“I missed you so much, love. But it looks like you’ve replaced me…” It was your turn to laugh, now taking a long look around the room and recalling all the things you’d replaced.
“Oh, uh—yeah. I missed you so much, I got a little carried away.” You admitted, pulling away to look her in the eyes. She brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, taking in your presence after a week of missing it dearly. Your eyes glimmered with that familiar passion, something Natasha could never get enough of.
Eventually, she guided you back to bed, changing into pajamas herself. “It’s alright, I don’t mind a change of decor. But did you have to make our comforter pink?” The two of you laughed, eyes staying glued to one another—almost like you couldn’t believe she was actually home. After what felt like ages, Natasha headed to her side of the bed. “Are these for me?” Her voice turned soft when she noticed just how many stuffed animals you created for her.
“Yeah, I’m working on a second box of them now.” Sure enough, there was an identical box nearly full of even more stuffed animals. Natasha chuckled, moving the box to her nightstand as she got under the covers next to you. You wasted no time leaning up against her, your head fitting perfectly in the crook of her neck.
“Thank you, baby. I love you so much, you know that, right?” She questioned, snuggling up beside you. You missed having her next to you—her side of the bed remained cold for too many nights. Although the new creations crowded your safe space, having Natasha there beside you made it feel right. The stuffed animals and crocheted housewares provided you with a sense of comfort, but not nearly as much as Natasha ever could.
“I know, I love you too. I wouldn’t have crocheted an army of stuffed animals if I didn’t.” You smiled, letting Natasha pull you in closer before the two of you fell into a deep sleep, finally safe in each other’s arms.
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Imagine... Nikto being your ex-husband
(Please forgive any mistakes, I'm sick, half-alseep and battling a migraine lmao)
First of all, good luck getting rid of this guy. Period.
When Nikto has decided to let someone into his life he practically imprints on them like a newborn duckling, and you are no exception. Something as trivial as a divorce isn’t going to change that, regardless of whether you want your ex-husband following you around or not. It doesn’t matter that you’re not married anymore, he’s still yours, that much hasn’t changed.
Gets a little annoyed if you no longer wish to share a bed, staring at you like a sad dog banned from sleeping with its owner. You’ll definitely wake up in the morning with him curled up on bed with you regardless.
Since you no longer wear your wedding band or your engagement ring, Nikto keeps the two of them with him, attached to the same chain on which he carries his own. “Looking after them for you,” he says, “for when you want them again.”
You finally decide to try and move out? Not happening. You can keep the house; he’ll find somewhere else to stay so you don’t have to leave. It’s not as though he owns many possessions anyway.
Insists that you have custody of Sputnik. She’d miss you too much if he took her, and she’s used to Nikto leaving for short periods of time. Besides, she’ll keep you safe while he’s not there! Unfortunately, this is all part of the plan. Good luck taking a date back home with a territorial hyena trained to attack unknown men currently curled up on your couch. But she’s so sweet! Poor girl doesn’t know any better! :(
Uses it as an excuse to come over and help with feeding her. And hey! He might as well help you out around the house while he’s there, it’s only the polite thing to do.
Trying to have a date at a nice coffee shop? Well what do you know, it’s your ex-husband! He just so happened to be in the area, what a lovely coincidence! Sure, he practically never leaves the house when he can avoid it, but don’t worry about that, let’s just catch up, he always loves hearing about your day.
What a shame that guy suddenly decides to ghost you. It’s a total mystery, really. He seems to have just disappeared off the face of the planet.
Despite being divorced, Nikto is no less handsy with you. Doesn’t seem to grasp the concept of keeping his hands to himself, and can you blame him? You just look so loveable! He promises he’ll try to tone it down but seems to forget said promise almost immediately.
He’s got a tracker on your phone to keep tabs on where you’re spending time. But he needs to do that now that the two of you aren’t living together anymore, just to make sure you’re alright.
No matter how many times you promise yourself it’s the last time, you somehow always still end up laying on your back with your ex-husband between your legs, or perched on the edge of the kitchen counter with his scarred face pressed into your core.
Don’t worry, it might take a while, but you’ll eventually see reason and things will be back to normal. Nikto is a patient man, he doesn’t mind waiting for you.
#call of duty modern warfare#writing#reader insert#call of duty nikto#nikto x reader#nikto x you#ex husband nikto
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