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dollgxtz · 2 months

Text

Sleepy Crow

Word Count: 1.8k words

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, somno, noncon, mentions of breeding, pet names such as kitten, sweetie, darling, reader is somewhat drugged but its her sleep meds!

AN: Hi all! This isn't my first time writing fanfics but I noticed a lack of Sylus fics with a darker undertone ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ". PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags and if this isn't something that interests you or is potentially triggering, please do not interact! I get this isn't everyone's cup of tea but this is a fic for people who like darker romance stuff!! Please enjoy, and I AM taking requests as I really want to get back into writing again. Do not hold back, this is a safe place! Ty!! <333

Sylus trudged through the pouring rain, his jacket soaked through and his hair matted against his forehead. The drops were heavy and unrelenting, pelting against the pavement and creating small rivers that flowed along the gutters. The barely lit streetlights of the N109 zone cast an eerie glow on the slick surfaces, reflecting off the wet asphalt like a distorted mirror.

As the man approached his mansion, he couldn't help but feel relieved. The warm glow of the lights shining through the windows beckoned him home. He fumbled with the keypad to the door, his fingers slightly numb from the cold, before finally hearing the click that beckoned his entrance.

The sound of raindrops hitting the roof and windows followed him, a steady drumming that seemed to fill every corner of the place. He took off his sodden jacket and hung it up, feeling the weight of it pulling him down. He walked through the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floors, trying his hardest to be quiet. Mephisto was perched on his cage (not that he was ever really in it, it was more for decor) tilting his head when he saw Sylus brush past him but not making any sound himself.

He made his way to the bedroom chambers, deciding to make sure you were where you belonged. Peeking his head in the bedroom doorway, he saw your sleeping figure, chest rising ever so slightly with each breath. He smirked, closing the door behind him as he entered. He was happy you finally seemed to be getting some rest.

Your insomnia had been getting worse, and he'd been getting worried when he saw you were often messaging him at 4 am, sometimes as late as 8 am with no sleep. Of course he’d offer to have you over, to hold you and whisper sweet things in your ear until you succumbed to sleep, but he couldn’t always. Sometimes business was needed to be handled, and for those nights he had gotten you the best sleep medication that money could buy. You had been weary about taking them at first, but he had assured you that the side effects were basically none. He had made sure of it.

Sylus made his way to the bathroom, proceeding to rid himself of the damp clothes clinging to his skin. A quick shower and then he could finally curl up next to his little crow. Not that he would be sleeping yet, but it was nice to watch you dream. Sometimes you’d whine or make little noises, which he found absolutely adorable. He wondered what you dreamt about sometimes, but you had refused to answer much to his annoyance.

The hot water felt amazing after being gone practically all night. He washed all the blood and dirt from his skin, examining all of his various injuries. He had a run in with a few “pests” that he quickly exterminated, but they had managed to get a few nicks on him. He touched his arm where the biggest cut was, his Evol immediately snaking around it and healing it faster than he could blink. He did the same for the others, feeling brand new once more.

Some time passed before he finally turned the water off, dried himself, and slipped into a pair of boxers. He slowly made his way into the bedroom, hoping that he wasn't being too loud but you were out like a light. Sleeping like a rock.

Sylus slipped in bed next to you, sighing with pleasure as the soft mattress sunk beneath his weight. It felt heavenly. He turned to put his arm around you, trying to get as comfortable as possible so he could hold you. He softly kissed the corner of your ear, his head starting to swim with thoughts. Surprisingly, he felt comfortable enough to possibly fall asleep with you.

But he couldn't.

He had been laying in bed for thirty minutes just thinking. He thought about all the business arrangements he needed to finish. Tonight had been…messy. No doubt he had made some new enemies. How impatient he was getting about the new weaponry he had bought from Spain. They should be arriving soon, but it had been taking forever.

How he wanted to feel your tight cunt pulsing around his fingers.

Sylus stiffened, attempting to rid his head of these thoughts about you. His efforts were in vain though, as he was already rocking a semi hard on that was steadily growing into a full erection.

Obviously there was nothing he could do about it. You were sleeping after all. And not only that, it's not like he could wake you to do anything anyways. He hates quickies, they bored him. He likes to take his time. To take in your reactions, your faces, and your noises. Besides that, you were taking a pretty high dose of your sleeping meds and he kinda doubted he could wake you even if he really tried.

This thought stirred in his head for a bit.

Yeah...you wouldn't wake even if he tried. He sighed with a twinge of pleasure as he pressed his erection against the soft cotton of your underwear. The pressure felt immaculate, and if he hadn't been gone all night he probably could've finished just by pressing himself against you. You were the only girl ever that could make him finish that quickly.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more. It had been a bit since he touched you like this.

You moved a bit in your sleep, letting out a small whine. He leaned over you to get a better look at your face. Still sleeping, mouth open slightly ajar. You were so fucking pretty when you slept.

“Such a sleepy kitten” he growled lowly, snaking his fingers underneath the hem of your underwear. He didn’t know why, but the mere sight of your sleeping face was getting him worked up. You looked so docile, so vulnerable. He wanted you. Sylus began to tug them down slowly.

This was very wrong. He knew this and yet he couldn't stop. He kept going, making empty promises to himself that he would only take a peek. He just wanted to see you. All of you.

Sylus froze has he finally pulled your underwear down to your legs, practically breathless at the site of your cunt at his fingertips.

"Fuck..." he groaned, unable to stop himself from pressing a finger between your folds. He watched you carefully for any signs of discomfort or movement, but you were still fast asleep as he pushed his finger in. You were warm, inviting even. It's like your pussy was sucking his finger in, deeper and deeper. He slid a second finger in, picking up the pace. Soon enough, your cunt was slightly wet, spots of your slick forming on the backs of your legs near your pussy. Pulling out, he practically shivered with excitement.

Sylus was quick to put his fingers in his mouth, savoring every drop of you. You tasted so sweet to him, the best flavor he ever had the honor to try. He wanted nothing more than to dive head first into the source and lap it up. But his erection was so starting to bother him. It was rock hard, and throbbing ever so slightly, begging to be freed.

He had to have you. And he had to have you now.

He pulled his erection through the hole in his boxers, beginning to stroke himself with an intense grip. Groaning as quietly as he could, he stared at your wet and welcoming cunt. He swore it was just begging to be filled by every inch of his cock. Still wanting him, even when you were asleep.

"You’re so pretty sweetie" he whispered in your ear, closing his eyes as electrifying pulses of pleasure crashed through him. Sylus told himself he should stop now, but it was past that point. He knew himself better than that. His mind was already made up, no matter how much he was trying to talk himself out of it.

Turning you a bit more on your side, he readied the fat head of his tip to your entrance. You stirred once again, mumbling incoherent nothings before becoming silent again. Sylus chuckled softly, pressing his lips to the tip of your ear as he stroked himself a few more times.

As he sinks his tip into your tight entrance, his precum smears all over your hole. He shudders with intensity, trying his best to hold back a groan, worried that making too much noise next to your ear would wake you. He pushes further and further until he can't possibly sink himself into you anymore. You squirm, letting out another whine, this one a bit louder than the last.

"Im sorry kitten…" Sylus coos, laying his head behind yours as he fucks you with a slow, rhythmic pace. "Just need to cum in what’s mine. Be a good girl and stay asleep for me”.

He rests one of his hands on your hip, trying to keep from shaking you too much as he continually plunges himself inside you. You were warm, your gummy walls constantly tightening around him. He moans your name over and over like a prayer, feeling lost in your walls. The soft clap of his skin meeting your ass echoes a bit in the room.

"You're fucking made for me. Look at you sweetie, tightening around me, trying to squeeze me dry even when you're sleeping" he whispers, feeling himself getting closer and closer to bliss.

His thrusts became sloppy and he had to slow himself, trying to savor every moment he had inside of what essentially felt like heaven. He had been wanting to fill you for days. Images of his seed erupting onto the walls of your fertile pussy, eventually giving you a nice, round tummy that would grow his baby filled his head and he couldn't stop himself from finishing anymore.

As his hot ropes of sticky cum shoot against the walls of your womb, he accidently grips your hip a bit tighter than he meant to. You yelp, and he quickly rubbed his hand over the spot he'd hurt you, ensuring you remained asleep. He checks the spot and sees some slight bruising already starting to form and curses himself silently for losing control and hurting you. His Evol was quick to move over the injury where his hand lay, instantly restoring your skin back to a healed state. Sylus was amazed he could even do that. His Evol had only ever healed him. It wasn’t until you came along that it had ever revealed that kind of power and it didn’t work for anyone else either.

"Shh shh, its ok. Just be still, I'm almost done filling you up darling…”

Once his orgasmic high subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath before watching as his cum pooled out of you. He took his finger and scooped as much of it as he could gather before gently pushing it back within your folds. Feeling satisfied with his work, he pulled your panties up before finally pulling the cover back over you.

"There you go. Gotta keep my seed where it belongs so you can make us a baby. Right kitten?" he chuckled, finally feeling tired enough to cuddle you and fall asleep.

#umi writes ♡︎#love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #sylus x reader #sylus #lads sylus #lads #lads smut #lads fic #sylus x reader smut #love and deep space x reader #l&ds smut #lads scenarios #love and deep space scenarios #sylus x reader fic

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luveline · 3 months

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helloooo, how are you? i’ve been rewatching criminal minds and i finally got to the post-prison part, so i’m really missing shy!r and post prison spencer <33 if you’re felling up to writing something for them again, i would love to see it!! maybe when they kiss for the first time or something else (completely up to you, i would love anything that you write hahah) but if you’re not really feeling it at the moment, please don’t worry about it, it’s so understandable 🩷 have the best day!!

ty for your request I love first kisses <3

Spencer takes you for a walk and explains a couple of courting rituals. shy fem!reader, 1.5k

Profiling is still very hard, but seven months into your new job at the BAU, you’ve become proficient in Spencer Reid. You can tell when he’s eager to work, when he’s down about something, when he’s feeling good. He holds himself differently on his good days, he takes care to coil his hair and wears a clean pair of shoes.

In the bullpen, he’s sitting at his desk beside yours, craned over a desk covered in loose papers, books, and files. You attempt to hide your approach, lest he startle.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Good morning.” Can’t hide anything. He’s been an agent for ninety percent of his adult life. “What are you doing?”

“Just reading.”

You sit at your desk, clearing a space for your bag among your own mess of files and books. Your monitor turns on with a nudge of the mouse. Your screen is filled swiftly by notifications and Outlook, then the FBI messaging system, and then the ‘filing cabinet’ Garcia built to help you understand the insanity that is the BAU online system. It submerges you every morning regardless.

“What are you reading about?” you ask. Your emails can’t wait, but you don’t want to read them, so you won’t for another ten minutes.

He stumbles over a breath.

“Spencer?”

“It’s courtship rituals.”

You regret asking. Whenever you and Spencer talk about feelings, or love, or romance, you end up hot as a kettle on a stovetop, steam billowing from your ears. You choked on a mouthful of lukewarm tea a few days ago when he’d mentioned America's developing hook-up culture.

He doesn’t tell you any more, which is unlike him. Spencer Reid loves to talk, or loves to share what he’s learned. You looked it up —it’s called info-dumping, and it’s usually because the person telling you is so deeply fascinated by the topic they’re investigating that they can’t contain it. It’s a common symptom of ADHD, or autism, or both. Spencer’s done it since the day you met, which is nice. You feel like he trusts you.

And so you’re wondering now if you’ve done something to make him think he can’t do it today. Or maybe he’s not feeling well.

You prop your face in his hand and watch him.

He doesn’t look upset, only focused.

You hate quiet. You love not talking, but gaps of silence have you overthinking things. Maybe he’s mad. Maybe you’ve finally pissed him off.

It’s scary because he’s amazingly kind. Overwhelmingly nice. He’s lovely and good looking but it’s his heart that shocks you every time, how he’s looked after you, defended you.

“Spencer, are you okay?” you ask.

He blinks to attention. “What?”

“You’re not talking.”

He grins. “I’m thinking.”

His smile when he looks like he’s about to laugh is everything.

“Don’t think too much,” you say as you play with a button on your coat. “Isn’t that what you always tell me?”

“Don’t think too much because you think about things you don’t need to,” he amends. “You worry about everything.”

“Well, so do you.”

“Exactly. I’ll worry enough for you, too.” Spencer gives you a smile you don’t understand. “Will you come to the archive with me? I want to talk to you about something.”

“Spencer…” He just acknowledged that you worry about everything.

“Sorry,” he laughs. “Something with no pressure. I’ll explain it as we walk.”

You shed your coat and walk together out of the BAU offices down a long hallway. You take the elevator down to the ground level, spring air in the hallways, early morning sunshine lapping at your shoes where it’s settled golden against the marble floor. Spencer professes that it’s nothing to worry about again, but he doesn’t elaborate, and your heart begins to pulse too quickly.

You can’t look at him.

“I’ve been reading about these courtship rituals and… looking at which ones are the best. There are thousands of them, but contemporary courting isn’t easy. It confuses me. With my last, my only girlfriend, we wrote each other letters. But I wanted this time to be different, because– because love is different?” He grimaces.

“Love is different,” you agree. You’re not sure who he means, your chest panging in two different beats. Is he… talking about you? “It’s different every time.”

“I was looking for the more subtle rituals. I kept thinking I’d find the right one, and that I’d know it when I saw it, but I can’t find anything suitable and I might need your help. Um, if you even want to help me.”

“Of course I do.”

Spencer slows just outside of the archive’s door. “Everything I read about feels like it would just embarrass you. I picture buying you flowers and I feel like you’d just– just explode.” He says it with affection and apology alike. “I wrote you a poem. Emily told me not to give it to you, though.”

“You wrote me a poem?”

“I made you a love spoon, too, but I can’t whittle, and it looks terrible. I even cut my hand, and if you rejected me you’d have to give the spoon back and I think that would make it worse.”

You turn completely still. The last thing you expected that morning was for Spencer to confess. And he is confessing, a small smile on his face, patience, nervousness, close enough to feel the heat of him beside you. You short circuit in an attempt to compute the magnitude of it; Spencer wants to court you, and you can’t handle it.

Your exhale shudders out of you. Goosebumps attack your arms.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, “are you okay?”

“Spencer, I don’t think you could ever find a way to tell me that wouldn’t make me feel like this.”

“How do you feel?”

“How am I supposed to feel?”

Spencer’s smile fades a touch. “I don’t know. You can feel how you want to feel, it isn’t up to me. But I have feelings for you. I thought you knew.”

It’s like knowing that the lottery numbers were chosen specifically to match your ticket. The thing he’s talking about doesn’t make sense.

“Are you kidding around?” you ask.

“What? No.” He holds your wrist gently. “Of course not.”

You swallow a lump and try not to overreact, though you’re already doing that. This is a good thing, it is, but he’s him and you’re you and every time he touches you it’s like fireworks are bursting warm and tingly over your skin. You smile at his chest, cheeks dimpling from how wide it stretches.

“You don’t have to court me, um. Not in any way like that. I’m just like every other girl, you know? I like flowers. I,” —your cheek lists down toward your shoulder bashfully— “probably would feel a little embarrassed, but I like flowers. I can get you flowers.”

Spencer really laughs. “You want to get me flowers?”

“Maybe?”

He laughs again. His eyes lock onto you and his open hand closes on the opposite arm, putting you face to face. “It was my idea,” he says, playfully argumentative.

“Okay.”

“You want to hear the poem?” he asks, quietening again.

You nod slowly. “N’I wanna see the spoon.”

“Can I please kiss you?” He takes a breath, like he’s been running. “I know this isn’t the right place, but I didn’t expect to want it this badly.”

“I don’t think there’s a wrong place…”

“So I can?” he asks, lifting a hand to your cheek, to hold you with care.

You nod into his approach, find yourself kissed and held tightly in a split-second of warmth and warm smells. His nose touches yours in a kiss of their own, his lips part lightly before pressing in again. Two kisses lend to a third, but then he pulls away to look at you. As quickly as it started, it’s over.

“You're overheating already,” he says, thumb rubbing a sweet path under your cheek.

You don’t know what to say. He ducks his head just that little bit to make sure you’re okay. Understanding flows between you both. His hand falls behind your back to pull you in for a hug.

“I’ve never been the confident one in any of my relationships,” he admits.

“I usually am.”

Your deadpan lights him up. His hug turns strong armed, and he walks you back, giggling, arms a comforting vice around you. “You can be the shy one this time,” he says, seemingly unaware of how his using the word ‘relationship’ has thrown you for another loop.

You’re hot as a furnace all morning. Spencer makes excuses for you, but Emily’s amazing at her job.

“Jesus, Spence, you didn’t read her the poem? I told you it was too much.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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ladysharmaa · 6 months

Text

Kate mini version

Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma x sis!reader

summary: Kate's sister is sent to live with Kate and Anthony by her mother who had to travel to India and couldn't take her. Feeling that she was unwanted and intruding on the Bridgerton couple's lives, Y/n starts acting distant. When Anthony and Kate realize this, they try to make Y/n see how much she is loved by everyone

requested: yes

part 1 part 2 part 3

Y/n was sitting in her carriage for 5 minutes, not having the courage to open the door. She was outside the Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton mansion, in other words her sister and her brother-in-law. Her hands trembled in her lap as she took a deep breath to try to calm her anxiety and her irregular heartbeat.

Her mother Mary had to travel to India and decided to not let her youngest go with her. As Y/n was still too young to consider it safe to keep her at home alone, even with maids, Mary asked Anthony and Kate to welcome her into their home.

Ever since Mary's older daughter found a husband and went to live a new life, Y/n felt that her relationship with her mother got worse.

The house was quieter, both of them no longer had the usual company of the other sisters. It made Y/n realize how she couldn’t hold a conversation with Mary, at least not like Kate and Edwina. It also didn't help that Y/n was extremely similar to their father, who had already died. It seemed like Mary was grieving again for her late lover, and Y/n was the cause of it.

So, like a snowball effect, Y/n couldn't help but think that Kate and Anthony were just taking her in out of obligation, since they were family, but that she was actually considered a burden for them.

"Would you like for me to open the door, Miss?" the maid who accompanied her asked with a gentle smile.

"There is no need for that, Anne. Thank you." she replied, snapping out of her thoughts.

With a last deep breath, Y/n opened the door just as Anthony and Kate were leaving the house. As soon as she saw them, Y/n bowed slightly. When she lifted her head again she found the two of them with a smile directed at her. But even so, she had doubts, after all, in this society, everyone had learned to master the fake polite smile. Kate hurried to her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Y/n! It's so nice to have you here. The house can get so quiet when the Viscount is working. It'll be great to have our conversations like we had before." Kate whispered in her ear, Y/n only responding with a small smile.

Anthony approached the younger Sharma to greet her, Y/n bowing again. "Lord Bridgerton, thank you for your hospitality. It was very kind of you."

"By all means, Miss Y/n, you are family. Now let's come inside, Phillip can bring your belongings to your room." Anthony said, linking his arm with his wife and starting to head towards the room where the maids were setting the table for the tea.

Y/n followed behind the couple, her steps cautious. She looked at the huge mansion and sighed, her fears continuously running through her mind. This was going to be a very long month.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was still quite early, the sun's rays barely illuminating the mansion. However, Y/n was already awake and ready for the day. She went down to the kitchen, wanting to help the cooks and maids. It was the least she could do, since now they were cooking for one more person and the day before they had brought her a rather late meal since she didn't eat all of dinner.

The maids were surprised to see the youngest Sharma in the kitchen, tying an apron around her waist. However, with a lot of resistance on Y/n's part, they let the girl help. Y/n had a lot of fun, the maids had a good relationship with each other, throwing in some jokes from time to time that made her laugh.

Y/n was placing the last dish on the table. She had to admit that everything looked great. The food varied from fruit to various cakes and breads. Just in time, Anthony entered the kitchen, stopping in surprise when he saw Y/n there.

"Miss Sharma, I wasn't expecting you to be awake already. It's quite early."

"I'm a morning person, Lord Bridgerton." Y/n chuckled, running her hands down her dress nervously. She then pointed to the table, desperate not to remain in an awkward silence. "Breakfast is ready."

"I see that, everything looks great." he sat at the end of the table. Y/n remained standing, looking around, causing Anthony to hesitate before asking, "Aren't you going to sit down to eat too?"

"Oh! I already ate with the maids, thank you. Hm, is my sister awake?"

Anthony clears his throat, looking down. A frown appeared on Y/n's face when she saw the man's cheeks start to turn pink. "Your sister is still sleeping. She was not feeling well last night so she couldn't sleep much."

"Very well..." The girl nodded slowly. "I shall bring her tea when she wakes up. Until then, I was hoping I could go on for a walk in the gardens? Please?"

"Of course, Y/n, you don't have to ask." Anthony nodded, wiping his mouth with a napkin after drinking some orange juice. "Do you want me to ask a maid to go with you and keep you company?"

"No, it's okay, I prefer to go alone."

"No problem. In the afternoon we should go to my mother's house to play pall-mall. It would be lovely if you decided to join us."

"Oh, I'm not sure yet. I wouldn't want to interrupt your family time." Y/n looked away so as not to show the sadness she felt.

She had never even met Anthony's family properly, only meeting them briefly at the couple's wedding. Either way, with all the stories she'd heard from Kate, she doubted she'd be able to fit into the family dynamic. She was afraid that Anthony was only extending the invitation to her out of obligation to now be living with them, after all, she had never been invited even when her two sisters were.

However, with all these thoughts, the girl did not see the frown that appeared on her sister's husband's face. What do you mean she didn't want to interrupt family time when it was part of it?

Although his family never spent much time with Y/n, it was just because since she was younger, they thought she would feel more comfortable with her mother instead of being dragged around with Edwina and Kate to every event. She had lost her father and moved countries, they didn't want to overwhelm her. However, Anthony's siblings really wanted to meet her, especially Francesca and Hyacinth, who wanted to have a new friend.

"Y/n, you are family. My siblings would love to spend more time with you, especially my sisters." Anthony finally said.

"I will think about it." Y/n offered him a small smile out of politeness. "I will be heading to the gardens. Let me know if you need me. Excuse me, Lord Bridgerton."

When Y/n finally left the dining room, Anthony rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. He really needed to talk to his wife about this.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Y/n was lying down on the grass, enjoying the sun's rays that warmed her skin, when Kate found her. After Anthony told her about what happened at breakfast, Kate knew there was something wrong with her younger sister.

Anthony's wife lay down beside Y/n, alerting her to her presence. Y/n lifted her head, offering her sister a small smile. "Are you feeling better?"

"Pardon?" Kate frowned, not understanding the question. Her mouth opened in realization as she remembered what Anthony had told her with a light blush. "Oh, yes, I'm fine. Nothing that a few more hours of sleep couldn't solve."

"I'm glad." Y/n closed her eyes again, enjoying the sunny day.

"Are you enjoying your time here? Lord Bridgerton told me that you cooked with the maids today." Kate said after a few moments of silence.

"Yes, they were lovely. I wanted to help."

"If you had a good time then there's no problem. But you know you don't need to get up early to cook for us. I want you to have fun and be comfortable while you're here."

Y/n remained silent. Her hand started messing with the grass, a way to distract herself. "I know." she replied with a small voice.

"Do you?" the elder Sharma raised her eyebrows teasingly.

But Y/n remained silent, a small frown forming on her face as she thought about what Kate said. In turn, Kate felt her heart tighten with guilt. As she looked at her little sister, she remembered when she was a baby and made exactly the same face when she thought. A sigh escaped her lips, missing having Y/n's company all day.

The three Sharma sisters used to spend every waking moment together, strolling around the garden or simply relaxing in silence. But now, with Kate married and Edwina being courted by the prince, they didn't think about how it would affect Y/n.

"Tell me what is really wrong." Kate asked with sad eyes. Y/n sat down, opening her mouth to start speaking, but nothing came out. "Y/n, I'm sorry I haven't spent much time with you. But I love you, and I want you to be comfortable being here with me and Anthony."

"You didn't just let me stay out of obligation?" the younger sister asked shyly, refusing to look into Kate's eyes, who had also sat up and was trying to lift Y/n's chin with her hand.

"No! In fact, I was the one who asked mother to let you stay with me instead of considering you going with her to India. We wanted you here. I miss seeing my little sister every day. It can get lonely when Anthony works, and I love having you here."

"Really? But when you're bored, don't you visit Lord Bridgerton's siblings?"

"Yes, but no one can replace you. And I'm always talking about you to them, from all the stories I've told, I think they like you more than me!" Kate laughed, her smile widening when Y/n also chuckled. "I'm sure they would be delighted for you to go with us to play pall-mall."

"Hmm, I'm not sure. What if they don't like me?"

"Oh!" Anthony's wife gasped as if it was the most ridiculous idea. "That's impossible! With your heart and your kindness, they would be fools to not like you!"

"I really missed you." Y/n admitted, resting her head on Kate's shoulder.

"Me too. And after mother comes back, our house is still open. You can come here whenever you wish."

"Thank you, Kate. I'm glad you found Anthony, you seem very happy."

"I am happy." Kate assured her. "And just because I am married now, nothing changes between us. You are still my priority."

"Thank you. And I believe a game of pall-mall is not the worst thing in the world. I will join you." the younger girl nodded with a smile, gaining confidence from her sister's words.

"Great! Then you'll also get to see Lord Bridgerton be a sore loser when I win."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

She was already starting to regret her decision when she saw Anthony's family in the garden, already bickering with each other. She and her sisters were competitive, but not at this level.

"Dear siblings, if you could please just listen to me first." Anthony caught their attention with a sarcastic smile. "This is Miss Y/n, Kate's younger sister. She will be joining us today."

"Another Sharma? We are going to lose!" the younger boy, who Y/n assumed was Gregory, said.

Two other girls came to her, introducing themselves as Francesca and Hyacinth, Anthony's younger sisters. As they excitedly talked, Y/n's nerves began to disappear. Kate watched them closely, relaxing when she noticed that her sister was smiling, looking happy to be making friends. Her husband joined her, letting her lean against him and kissing her cheek.

"I told you it was going to be okay."

"Yeah, I know. But I was so sad that she thought we didn't want her here with us. It's my fault." Kate whispered sadly, feeling Anthony put his arm around her waist in comfort.

"It's not your fault, my love. We have to make her feel welcome, but for now, I think she's having fun." Noticing that Kate still wasn't convinced, he added. "What if the three of us went for a horse ride tomorrow? You once told me that Y/n always wanted to ride a horse, but she never got to learn since your father died. What if I taught her?"

"You would do that?" his wife smiled in delight. "Oh, Anthony, thank you. I'm sure she would love that."

"Anything for my wife and her little sister." Anthony smiled, giving her a chaste kiss on the lips. "I love you."

"Are you being this lovely just so I won't be so competitive in the game?" she laughed teasingly. "Forget it! Prepare to lose, my dear husband."

Kate turned her back on him, going to the others so they could start the game. Anthony enjoyed the view of his wife, wondering how he got so lucky. "I love my life."

While they were playing, Eloise told Y/n how women deserved to go to college and not live just for their husbands. Benedict appeared later, declaring that he was going to save her from her sister's obsessions, making Y/n hide a giggle behind her hand. In turn, he and Collin were extremely funny, especially when Anthony made a bad move and Kate beat him.

Y/n also had time to meet Daphne's son, who seemed to like her and demanded with a cry that she pick him up. She didn't complain, the baby was too cute to refuse anything.

She and her two new friends got tired of playing, preferring to sit under the shade with the baby and play a little with him. Meanwhile, they talked about everything and got to know more about each other. They only realized how much time had passed when Lady Violet Bridgerton called them to drink and eat something.

By late afternoon, Y/n was exhausted but happy. Her family was more complete, and she loved being part of its dynamic.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #collin bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #kate sharma #bridgerton sister #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #kate sharma x reader

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satorusugurugurl · 6 months

Note

If this request makes you uncomfortable or isn’t something you want to write, I apologize and please ignore my request!

Heyy! I was wondering if I could request a satoru x reader x Suguru smut? With like, some bdsm mixed in yk. Tying reader up, satoru is a tease, and likes to make her squirm and ask questions he know she can’t answer because Suguru is fucking her throat. But Suguru is mean. Mean and tougher than satoru. He tells satoru to stop being so gentle with you, that not only do you deserve rough treatment but you like it. And satoru listens to him, of course. I just want them to run through me like a train😞

Also same mean geto anon (again lol) I’m gonna just sign off w an emoji now :3 -🍭

Hi Anon!

This isn't my cup of tea, it's my FUCKING jam!!

Summary: Gojo and Geto had been on a two-week-long mission, which hadn't gone as smoothly as Suguru wanted. He was pent-up and frustrated. So, of course, Gojo called you to warn you it might not be a good idea to come over. You, of course, did not heed his warning. The second you get home, you realize that you were screwed.

Word Count: 3,706

Warnings: BDSM, rough sex, oral sex, so much sex, degradation, teasing, the smuttiest of smut

A/N: Good God, Satoru x Reader x Suguru is my weakness!! I put my whole heart into this. Geto Suguru, teacher AU, is my kryptonite!

Part Two

She Likes it Like That

“Y/N babe,” Gojo said in a hushed whisper, “you probably shouldn't come home tonight.”

You cocked an eyebrow, looking away from the first year's training. “I'm sorry, did you just tell me not to come home. . .to our apartment?” The world ‘our’ came out like acid.

Gojo sighed overdramatically. “Don't say it like that. I'm trying to save you! Suguru is in such a bad mood.” You listened to him walking around. “I sighed out loud when I noticed the last of my mochi was gone. Fuck you for that, by the way, and do you know what he said to me?” You pinched at the bridge of your nose, waiting for the rant to continue. “He told me to shut the fuck up! For sighing!”

“What did you do to piss him off? Oh, and just an FYI, I bought you more mochi, asshole.”

“Oh—” silence, “thank you-I’m sorry, please don't return it.”

“Satoru! Forget about the mochi. What happened to Sugu?”

The mission your partners were sent on did not go as planned. Their hotel had flooded; it was not like they had time to consider sleeping. The higher-ups sent them to an abandoned mountainside village full of cursed spirits. Poor Suguru had to swallow dozens for nearly two weeks. Gojo had enough; he couldn't stand the pained expression on his face as he gagged the last spirit down. So he decided to Hollow-Purpled the entire village.

The second they got back, the higher-ups scolded the hell out of them. Chastising them, complaining that they didn't do a good enough job. After all their hard work, the time they spent away from home, from you. Those bastards dared to complain about their hard work. It sent Suguru into a terrible mood, one that was bound to end with either a fight or someone getting fucked into the mattress.

One thing about Suguru was that when he was pissy, things felt out of his control. He needed to take control back. Which meant he wanted to have sex. He would be rough, really rough, tying either you or Satoru up, not letting you go until he had calmed down. Or if one of you was fucked too stupid to continue, his eyes focused on the other that wasn't tied up.

“So please, just stay with Ieiri tonight. I'm going to lock myself in my room. Last time he was this pissed off, the both of us were so sore we couldn't move.”

“Ugh, fuckin’ whatever.” This whole situation wasn't fair. You hated how your boyfriends were mistreated.

“Yeah, just stay the—oh, hi Suguru.” There was a shuffling in the background. “No, I wasn't talking shit.” Satoru nervously laughed. “Look, Sugu—no, put down the rope—”

“Toru?” Panic for your boyfriend sank into your stomach.

“Hey! Wait a second—Sugu—”

Before any other indication of what was happening came through the receiver, the other line cut off. So you quickly yelled to the students you had to leave and took off. By the time you made it, you were breathless from running and realized that in your panic, you left your keys at work.

You picked up the spare key hidden under the doormat. Just as you were about to unlock the door, it flew open. You slowly blinked, looking up at a very irritated Suguru. The man radiated gloom and tension. He was in his sweatpants, and his hair was tied in a messy bun, and, dear God, he looked pent up.

“Why the fuck are you using the spare key?”

“I-I uh—”

“Ooooh~ there she is~!” a hand gently rested against Suguru’s shoulder as Satoru peered down at you from behind your dark-haired boyfriend. “There's our girl!”

It only took a moment to see that Satoru mirrored Suguru’s frustration and anger. Oh fuck. The key fell from your hand as you took a step back. Suguru was demanding and rough when he was pent up. Satoru, on the other hand, was a tease. He liked pushing you, making you cry. Both of them being in a pissy mood simultaneously, this was a nightmare for you.

“Y-You, I thought you were in trouble!”

“Oh yeah, no.” Suguru’s soured face slowly twisted into a smirk as Satoru licked his lip. “But you~?” Suguru’s hand darted out, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, preventing you from moving further back. “You're royally fucked.” Before you even had a chance to respond, Suguru and Satoru grabbed you, yanking you inside.

“Awe~” Satoru hummed as he trailed his kiss up the bare thighs he lay between. “Look at you~ trying to clamp your thighs shut.” Gojo’s fingers were buried deep inside of you. Finger fucking you to the edge of yet another orgasm he would deny. “But you can't, can you~? Suguru’s got you all tied to the bed, spread out for us to use you.” A muffled moan escaped you. “Huh? What was that princess? You gotta use your big girl words.” Satoru tilted his head, cupping his free hand around the back of his ear. “Oooh! That's right, you can't talk when getting your throat fucked.”

You gagged as Suguru's cock hit the back of your throat. He was quiet, his eyes shut in concentration. He looked so fucking hot, so focused on the feeling of your mouth. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he pulled in and out of your mouth, grunting softly as you hollowed your cheeks. But the more Satoru spoke, the more Suguru knitted his eyebrows.

“I bet you want me to stuff your pussy, too, don't you~? You want to be spit-roasted between your two boyfriends?” Your pussy twitched at his words. “Oooh~!! Your cunt just twitched. Is that what our sweet girl wants—”

“Satoru,” Suguru snarled, “shut the fuck up.”

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me. Y/N likes it when I tease her.”

Suguru tsked, pulling his thick cock out of your mouth. You gasped and coughed, spit and precum coating your chin. Between your pants and the gasps for air, Suguru went to what you thought would be a head pat. Instead, his fingers tangled in your air with a hard yank, pulling you up to look down at Satoru. His face was flushed, cerulean eyes wide as he looked between his two partners.

“Look at the fucking slutty face she's making.” The grip on your hair tightened. “You think she looks like this because of your pitiful teasing?” A shaky moan escaped you as he tightened his grip harder. “No, she looks like this because this little slut likes it rough.”

Fuck, you wanted more, to run your hands over Suguru’s arms, to grip his cock, urging him to keep fucking your throat. You were desperate to trap Satoru's head firmly between your thighs, forcing him to kiss and lick your clit. Instead, you weakly tugged at the purple restraints tied to both your wrists and ankles. Suguru had set up the rigging underneath the mattress, making it impossible for you to move. Meaning if you wanted his cock back in your mouth or Satoru’s tongue inside of you, you had to wait for them.

What made it more frustrating was the fact that you were completely bare. Not allowing you to hide the way your body reacted to Suguru’s dirty words. He was telling the truth. And the truth was behind your body's reactions. Gojo could see it in the way your tight entrance clenched around his fingers. He could feel your pussy drip around him, your wetness running down his knuckles. Suguru was right; you did like it; no, like wasn't the right word.

You fucking loved it.

Suguru could see the wheels turning in Satoru’s head as his eyes glittered with lust and excitement. “Satoru~ do you finally see it?~” The way Suguru purred his name had Satoru’s cock throbbing. “You see why she came home, even though she knew she’d get fucked?”

“Yeah, yeah, she's a fucking slut.”

“Yeah, she is.” A sharp tug on your head made you yelp. Suguru grinned, cocking an eyebrow at you. “You want it rough? Want me to fuck your throat so hard you cry, pretty girl?”

“Y-Yes, please.”

Gripping his cock at the base, Suguru slapped his thick meat against your cheek. “That's a good girl. Now open up.” slowly, you opened your mouth to him. Watching your tongue slip out had his tip angry, throbbing red. “Now,” he smeared the beading precum over your bottom lip, “say ah~.”

“Ahh~” The second that sound left your pretty mouth Suguru shoved his cock in your mouth. Your eyes stung as tears filled your eyes.

Satoru’s fingers had stopped their slow movements inside of you. His mouth was dry as he gulped. Suguru had been rough before, but this was a whole new level. His thick fingers wrapped around your Y/H/C hair, holding your head in place. His hips pull back before slamming forward, his ass clenching with the force of each thrust. Blue eyes slowly trailed over to your face. Your eyes were red, big tears slowly down your cheeks, and your throat was fucked. Satoru swore he could see Suguru’s tip bulging in your slender neck.

This was fucking hot. Suguru’s bare back glittered in the low light of the bedroom, a sheen of sweat beaded over his toned muscles. It was like watching a god fuck a mortal Suguru radiated a dominating power as he watched their girlfriend choke and gag on his cock. Satoru’s cock was so hard it fucking hurt. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around his throbbing shaft, jerking it slowly as he leaned down, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs.

The gentle kisses had you sighing contently around Suguru’s cock. Looking over his shoulder, Suguru sighed as he watched Satoru. His pink tongue was stuck out, gently teasing your damp folds. The sensation had you sighing around his dick, and that was not what he needed right this fucking second. Suguru wanted more; he needed it to relieve the tension in his shoulder. But that relief, the release he needed, wouldn’t happen, with Satoru teasing you like he loved to do.

“Satoru,” Suguru's voice was rough, “I just told you Y/N likes it rough.”

“Uh-huh~” Satoru’s voice was muffled as his face buried in your pussy, making you whine around the cock buried in your mouth.

“You’re not being rough enough.” Satoru pulled back, making you whine in protest. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to come down here and eat Y/N’s pussy while I get my dick sucked?”

“No.” The cocky smile that was beginning to form on Satoru’s face was suddenly gone as Suguru reached his free hand down, wrapping his fingers in soft white hair. “I want you to fucking eat her cunt out like you fucking hate her.” Your eyes rolled back as Satoru was slammed back down into your pussy. The moan that left his mouth vibrated just right against our clit, making you cry out. “Ah~ fuck yes.” Your cries vibrated around Suguru’s cock, just the way he wanted. “That’s it, Satoru, keep it up.”

“Mmmmph.” Finally, having a picture of how Suguru wanted him to act, Satoru found himself motivated. Again, it might be because his boyfriend was tugging and pulling at his sensitive hairline. Yeah, that was motivating him. Fuck you like he hated you, he could do that. He was just as pent-up as Suguru was.

Fingers slammed inside your pussy, fucking in and out of your tight hole with a force and speed that had you crying out in pleasure. Your moans felt so fucking good, and the more you opened your mouth to cry, the deeper Suguru fucked your throat. He hit the back over and over again, his hand pressing firmly against Satoru’s head, pushing him harder against your clit. The two of you moaned while your mouths were being used; the sounds of whimpers, squelches, and gagging were like a symphony to Suguru’s ears.

Out of all the ways for him to relieve his stress, this was by far his favorite.

“Hah—fuck keep that up, Satoru, bring her right to the edge, then stop. I want her cumming with both of us inside of her. Fucking her so rough she has to call out of work tomorrow and Friday.” The thought of that had you pulling on your restraints. “Oooh oh, you like that? You like knowing the two of us will make sure you can’t walk or talk tomorrow?” Your muffled moans were quickly molded into gags as Suguru roughly fucked your face. “Yeah, you fucking do, you nasty little slut.”

Your mind was spinning as you felt yourself climbing closer and closer to your orgasm. The room was so hot and reeked of sex. It was all you could do not to allow yourself to cum right then and there. Satoru could feel it, the way your little swollen clit throbbed against his tongue, how your walls clamped down on his fingers. He wanted to send you over the edge. He was close to following you as he fucked his hips helplessly into the mattress, wishing it was your wet pussy instead.

One orgasm wouldn’t hurt, would it? You had been so good to them, allowing the duo to drag you into the house, strip you in the entryway, and tie you to the bed. Plus, on top of all that, they had left you alone for two weeks. You had to rely on that stupid vibrator Suguru insisted on allowing you to keep. That stupid toy was nothing compared to his tongue. Which was probably why he was bringing you to a mind-blowing orgasm in under three minutes.

Yeah, he was going to let you cum.

Curling his fingers up into your g-spot, Satoru fucked you as fast as his wrist would allow. Suguru instantly knew what was happening. From the way your eyes shut to how loud you were moaning around him, you were seconds away from cumming. If he was in a better mood, he might have allowed it to happen. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done with you yet.

“Stop.” Suguru scolded, pulling Satoru away from your dripping sex.

Both you and Satoru made disapproving groans as your orgasm slowly faded out of sight. “Doesn’t she deserve a treat? She’s been so good!” Satoru whined, licking your juices off his lips.

“I agree. Y/N does deserve a reward. But you need to give it to her in the roughest way that you can.” Suguru pulled his cock out of your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath. “Look at it this way. We get to blow off the steam while we make up for making her play with herself for two weeks.”

“Huh?” Those words struck a different chord in Satoru, and his cock twitched.

“Y/N, sweetheart, how often would you say you played with yourself when we were gone.”

You swallowed at the air greedily. “I don’t know, seven, maybe eight times.” Both your boyfriends shuddered, hearing the hoarseness of your voice.

“And out of all of those times, did you cum as hard as you do with us.”

“Not at all. They were all baby orgasms.”

Suguru shut his eyes, nodding his head. “See, Satoru, not only does our little slut like us rough and demanding, but we have to make up for those eight little orgasms.” When the dark-haired man looked back at Satoru, he saw a flash of white before your scream of shock and please bounced off the walls.

Suguru’s eyes were slightly wide as his brain tried to catch up with what his eyes had just witnessed. What he saw was Satoru balls deep inside of you. His thrusts were sloppy and needy, and fuck you looked as stunned as Suguru. One second you had been empty, pussy craving a cock deep inside of it from the denied orgasm. In the blink of an eye, Satoru was fucking into you more brutal than he’d ever fucked you before.

“I fucking told you, that toy was nothing compared to us.” Satoru snarled against the crook of your neck, digging his teeth into the sensitive skin. “Fucking stupid toy, not pleasing my girl.”

“Oh my—fuck, holy fuck!” You cried out, mouth wide open. Giving Suguru the perfect opportunity to get back to fucking your throat. The bittersweet taste of pre-cum had your mouth watering. He returned to the brutal pace he was in several minutes again.

“She needs that Satoru. What if we get sent on another long mission? She’s just supposed to suffer?” The thought of that had Suguru tilting his head, bangs falling in front of his eye. “You know what, I think you might be on to something. If we take her toy away, then we’d have to fuck her even harder the next time we get home.”

Satoru’s teeth sank harder into your neck as the tip of his cock slammed almost too hard into your cervix, making you scream around Suguru. “Exactly. Let me use reversal red on it, Y/N, please, baby.” You started to shake your head in a desperate plea to let you keep it. But Suguru’s cock in your throat made it impossible to do so. “What was that? Oh, right, you have your mouth full.” His lips moved against your pulse as his fingers dug into your hips. “Guess we’ll just have to say the way your clamping down on my cock is a yes in our book.” Your eyes darted up to Suguru, who had bought you the toy, for help.

“Mhmm fuck, yeah, I’m pretty sure she just hummed an ‘uh-huh’ around my cock.”

You wanted to argue, to fight against this rash decision, but you felt so good it was almost impossible to care. You were screaming around Suguru’s cock. Tears streaming down your face, leaving behind trails of mascara. They were both being so mean and rough. God, it was so fucking good. Who cared about a clit sucker when your throat and pussy were being fucked into next week.

“She’s close.” Satoru cried out, his balls slapping against your ass. “Oh fuck she’s hugging my cock so tight I’m going to explode Suguru.”

With blurry eyes, you glanced up at Suguru. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes shut tight. “I know, oh fuck I know, I’m so close, Satoru, don’t fuckin’ stop, make her cum, make her cum so hard.” Both his hands grabbed your face fucking your throat roughly as Satoru cried out, his hand pressing roughly on your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.

That was all that you needed. You cried out, squirting all over Satoru’s crotch, abdomen, and the mattress. Your orgasm set a domino effect between your boyfriends. Suguru followed behind you, his body hunched over you, his hands gently squeezing your head as he filled your mouth full of his thick cum. You weakly tried swallowing all of it, but that was somewhat difficult as Satoru extended your orgasm.

His thumb continues to rub your clit until his face scrunch up, mouth open in a feral growl. Satoru's orgasm hit him like a punch in the gut. He fucked all three of you harder, closer to oblivion. The headboard slamming against the wall as the restraint dug into your wrists was the only thing grounding you to remain on Earth. Satoru didn’t let up on the rough thrusts until he felt his cum dripping around his cock onto the bed.

The throbbing pain in the back of your throat, deep inside of your pussy was all the confirmation you needed that your boyfriends had fulfilled their promise. Never in your life had you been fucked so roughly. But it was a pain that you warmly welcomed.

After coming down, Suguru was the first to move gently. The rough hands that had been holding you in a vice gently held you as he pulled his softening cock out of your mouth. “Lay down.” His gruff, gentle voice whispered as he helped rest you against a pillow.

“Oh fuck—“ Satoru lifted his head off your shoulder, “I haven’t cum that hard in a while.” He was so slow, pulling out of you, grimacing as you cried out. “Sorry, fuck I’m sorry, baby.”

You shut your eyes, listening to Satoru getting out of bed. You could hear water running in the bathroom as gentle fingers began undoing your restraints. “You did such a good job, Y/N,” Suguru whispered. “Such a good girl for us.” His praise had you humming happily as he made quick work of the rest of the ropes.

“Suguru, let’s order in, yeah?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

The next half hour was a blur of warm happiness. Satoru helped wash your body in a bubble bath before Suguru joined you, kneeling next to the tub, lovingly stroking your face and hair. After you were cleaned up, your hair brushed, and pajamas on. You crawled into your bed with fresh sheets and relaxed. Satoru and Suguru fluffed your pillows and brought you a cup of tea for your raw throat. When your dinner arrived, the three of you sat in bed together to eat as a B-grade horror movie played on the television.

After eating, Satoru left to throw out the take-out containers. “Mmm, thank you for letting us do all that,” Suguru said as he crawled into bed after his shower. “That mission, it was rough.”

“I’m always happy to help.” Your voice cracked, making Suguru frown. “Stop frowning,” you flicked his forehead. “I like it rough.”

The bed dipped, and Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist. “Y/N can handle it. She is dating the two strongest, after all.” Both you and Suguru scoffed, relaxing in the growing silence. “Oh, by the way, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You yawned, snuggling into Suguru’s chest as he turned the bedside lamp off.

“Did you bring home my mochi?”

In the dark of the room, you heard a thump and Satoru’s whine before Suguru pulled the three of you closer to him. “Satoru shut the fuck up about the mochi.”

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amywritesthings · 24 days

Text

dating on airplane mode. | part one.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.9k Summary: So you're dating your neighbor who also happens to be a sex hotline dom named Levi Ackerman. Stranger things have happened, right?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), slow burn, eventual smut, sex work, neighbors au, newly established relationship, dual pov, the direct sequel to Press Four For More Options Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics submitted for @levievent 's #levimonth24 / day 22: neighbors

part two. | masterlist

“I'm seeing someone.”

Tea goes flying — metaphorically and physically.

When he confessed a new (and very unexpected) development in his (borderline nonexistent) dating life, Levi hadn’t anticipated Hange Zoe turning directly towards Erwin Smith to unleash a devastating spit-take attack to the face.

It’s a direct hit.

Erwin heroically takes the brunt of the damage, so at least his furniture is spared.

(Levi didn’t need to spend the rest of the afternoon scrubbing down the already scrubbed-down living room.)

Hange’s shout is shrill, the realization hitting them like a full-throttle freight train.

“You’re what?”

“He said he’s seeing someone,” Erwin answers in monotone before Levi can even try.

The tall blonde extends a hand to leisurely grab the napkin cradling the bottom of his tea saucer. In true Erwin fashion, he doesn’t even blink at Hange’s dramatics — or their consequences unto him.

He raises the napkin to blot the side of his face sprinkled with a mixture of freshly-brewed lavender tea and Hange’s saliva.

(Then again, Hange could abruptly bang pots and pans in the middle of the night and Erwin would merely call it a minor inconvenience to his sleep routine.)

“No, no, I heard what he said,” Hange recovers with a crack to their voice, “but I can’t tell if he’s messing with us.”

“I’m not,” Levi flatly states.

“Okay, but how do we know?”

“Hange—”

Except it’s Erwin intercepting once more. “Because he would never pretend to have a significant other when one of his closest friends happens to be you.”

Hange squints, pushing their glasses up the bridge of their nose.

“Why? ‘Cause I joked that I’d stalk him the next time he finally found a date? That was one time, Erwin.”

Erwin rolls his neck to the right, offering Hange a pair of thick, disbelieving eyebrows.

“Technically speaking, Zoe, you threatened to stalk either of us if you caught even a sniff that we could be in the midst of a romantic pursuit. Plus, we’re well aware of the disguise kit collecting dust in the trunk of Moblit’s car.”

An instant shit-eating grin passes across their lips.

“Ha. Fair.”

If Levi’s eyeballs could roll any further into the back of his skull, they’d get stuck.

“However,” Erwin adds, those bold blue eyes flickering back towards Levi, “it doesn’t explain why we were in the dark until now. At the very least, we should hope you would feel safe enough to confide in us about someone you are serious about dating.”

Yeah.

Out of his two friends sitting across from him, Levi figured Erwin would be the most suspicious of the surprise announcement.

Now that it’s been a few days since That Fateful Night, he doesn’t feel as self-conscious to confess his new reality.

It was as good of a time as any to rip the proverbial band-aid off.

(Besides, it was only a matter of mistakes before his friends learned the truth for themselves.)

Hange, Erwin, Moblit — they’re his only remaining connections tying him to this city. The others from his gym days have all found offers in other towns, returned to their old homes—

Moved on.

Meeting Erwin Smith in boot camp changed the trajectory of his life, for better or worse.

Levi had known the man longer than he knew anyone else — but only by a few days and some change, considering he was destined (Hange’s words, not his) to meet the hyper scientist and their subdued partner, Moblit, in the army as well.

Then, as if attached to the hip, all four of them agreed to work at Erwin’s gym.

When that fell through, Erwin found the Scout Services Hotline.

— —

The announcement came to him one summer evening with a printed job description and a six pack of beer.

Levi assumed Erwin’s confession on taking a sex hotline job had been one weird, shitty joke.

Picturing stoic, pragmatic Erwin Smith telling people how to fuck themselves in their bedrooms late at night for the almighty dollar felt obscene.

Hell, it was obscene.

Levi didn’t want to consider his oldest friend in such a compromising position, but there it was laid before him without shame or fear of judgment.

Becoming a part-time sex worker for Erwin was as noncommittal as taking up a fleeting niche interest — like exotic bird watching or crocheting sweaters for fucking cats.

“At the gym, we improved upon people’s lives,” Erwin had told him while sipping his beer, staring out to the city sightline from Levi’s balcony. “Who has the authority to say this job isn’t doing something similar to those who may be lonely?”

“You would make yapping on a damn sex hotline prophetic,” Levi scoffed in return. “Selling some shitty porn script a dozen times a night sounds like the closest you could get to Hell.”

“I disagree,” Erwin argued without heat. “When I interviewed, they stated every employee is given the ability to do as they please. To show their strengths and make it their own.”

“Bullshit.”

“It isn’t.”

Erwin rested the beer bottle on the knee of his trousers.

“Flexible work hours give me the ability to find another place the gym can call home. The pay would certainly cover any initial costs after several years.”

“Several years?”

Levi frowned, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Erwin… c’mon. Just take a second to listen to yourself.”

“I’m only offering a chance for you to do the same. You may not be fond of people, Levi, but you’re loyal to a stubborn fault.”

Erwin gave him a sidelong glance.

“I know you won’t put in applications to go to any other gym.”

“Tch.”

A dismissive sound was all he could muster at the time.

He always hated how Erwin could open the cavity of his chest and put his damn bleeding heart on display.

“Who says I haven’t been window shopping to pass the damn unemployment time?”

“I wish you would,” Erwin replied with a heavy sigh. “Your skills are better when in use, not lying waste with the rest of us.”

“Hange and Moblit’re doing just fine.”

Hange, a self-proclaimed babbler, returned to Paradis University to make headway on some fascinating research projects side by side with Moblit.

It was where they belonged, really.

“Fine, then lying waste with me.”

After a beat, Erwin slid his hand across the space between their chairs and held out a slip of paper.

"Look it over. Really sit down and think about what you did for our fighters and see where I’m coming from. You have a knack for leading. Of making people believe in themselves at their lowest."

He made it a point to stop. Stare.

Levi bit his tongue, meeting his friend's stern gaze.

"Conventional or not, you would still be helping people. Even if it’s a job for a month, at least you’ll be putting a hell of a lot of money in your pocket. It's better than waiting for my signal to move on.”

— —

The bastard was always great at a rousing speech.

That night was the night Levi plugged in the damn website and read the job description.

By morning, he had submitted his application for a part-time hotline employee that included an .mp3 file auditioning his voice.

Erwin must have told his boss that he had a life-long friend possibly interested in the position, because by that night?

Levi Ackerman had a job.

A night turned into a month.

A month turned into six.

Six to a year.

Suddenly denying begging, pleading people from their chased orgasms became as second nature as completing an Excel sheet.

Yet nothing else changed.

Levi still kept to himself.

Considering the friend group worked odd hours — Erwin with his own clientele, Moblit working towards his Masters, and Hange testing the scientific project of the week at the same university when unsupervised — it was easy to.

Wake up. Work out. Eat. Run errands. Clock in for work. Clock out. Eat. Sleep.

Repeat.

Routine.

Hell, a lot of his life worked like a well-oiled machine until you showed up.

Now his world is slightly spinning off-axis, and he knows:

Without talking to his friends about his (uncharacteristically selfish and) impulsive decision, everything could very well go up in flames.

(Because when it comes to sticking matters of the heart and Levi Ackerman in one room, the former never walks out.)

After a pregnant pause in this three-way stand-off, Hange leans in, pressing both hands onto the tops of their thighs.

“So when you say you’re seeing someone, you mean like… romantically?”

“As opposed to what?” Levi flatly asks.

“Well, seeing someone could mean anything, especially for you,” Hange reasons. Levi’s eyes narrow when Erwin gives that short huff of air through his nose like he’s stifling a laugh. “You could be seeing someone about finally fixing your dryer.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m just saying, romantically isn’t the first idea that comes to mind!”

“I have to agree with Zoe,” Erwin finally states, shifting his blue eyes to Levi’s. “You never mentioned that you had met someone in our group chat, and you haven’t made any changes in your schedule that suggest otherwise.”

Levi can’t help but scoff.

“Oh, so now you’re following Hange’s goddamn Google calendar?”

That fucking calendar.

The ‘we’re so busy but we can’t lose touch just because the gym went under’ calendar hastily made at two in the morning and sent with a declaration of war if no one accepted the invite.

All four of them did.

(Then again, Moblit didn’t have much of a choice.)

“I check on occasion,” is Erwin’s short rebuttal, before sitting up straighter. “But the former argument stands: you didn’t tell us that you were dabbling in the dating scene.”

“Wouldn’t really call it dabbling, Erwin,” Levi huffs, picking up his tea cup by clawing the rim of the ceramic. “Shit just kind of happened.”

“Uh-uh,” Hange interrupts. “We’re not playing coy right now, Levi. I want details: name, height—”

“Occupation,” Erwin agrees.

“Where they’re from.”

“If they have siblings.”

“Do they live near here?”

“If they’re allergic to cats.”

An involuntary grimace passes over Levi’s face.

“Ooh! We also need to know if they like tennis,” Hange adds excitedly. “Don’t trust someone who likes tennis, spectator or player. They’re always too put together with an underlying layer of batshit crazy.”

Erwin halts mid-sip of his tea.

“...I like tennis.”

Hange’s thumb and middle finger sharply snap. “Exactly.”

Enough.

Levi hastily pushes his black fringe out of his eyes with his free hand. “I— No, Jesus, can we stop speculating about her?”

“Why?” Erwin challenges.

“Because I told you what you needed to know,” Levi challenges without tripping over his words. “And I’d prefer to keep the rest of myself.”

“Ah, her.”

When he turns his attention to Hange, there’s a wicked glimmer in their eye.

Well, fuck him.

Too much has already been said.

Hange whistles low.

“So how recently was this fair maiden introduced into thy friend’s life?”

“Don’t start talking like a freak, Four Eyes,” he warns them while they suppress a cackle between pressed lips. “And — fuck, fine. If no one is going to let it go—”

“We aren’t.”'

Erwin interrupts, making it two against one.

With a set glare at his blonde friend, the smaller man sinks further into his chair and sighs with reluctant resolve.

“I… met her a few days ago. It...”

Trailing off, he sets his tea cup down to rub at his temples with one hand.

This is going to bring on a headache.

He really doesn’t need it on a work night.

“You’re both going to have an opinion on the how, and trust me, so do I.”

Hange’s face screws up in confusion, but he sees it out of the corner of his eye.

Erwin grows still. Contemplative.

Yeah, he knew this was going to go terribly.

“Huh?” Hange whips their ponytail back and forth to look between both men, smacking themself on the sides of their face. “Why wouldn’t we approve of how? Is it one of the old fighters?”

Levi scoffs, dropping to sit back in his chair. “I’d rather choke.”

“Then I’m not following. You don’t even talk to cashiers at the grocery store.”

“When did she call the hotline?” Erwin asks, cutting straight through the bush instead of beating around it.

His stare is almost indiscernible. Stern.

(Protective.)

The lightbulb clicks. Hange finally settles their attention on him.

“Whoa — wait, she’s a…”

“Former client,” Levi confesses after Hange trails off. “Emphasis on the former part.”

The room grows silent.

Levi doesn’t have the capacity to see Hange’s true reaction, because he’s keeping eye contact with Erwin.

Their own telepathic argument bounces back and forth like that very proverbial tennis ball Hange had so teasingly laid down.

The ethics of it all;

The logistics of what it could mean for the future;

The gravity of this choice and knowing its weight is crushing him.

Erwin’s gaze softens a fraction.

Levi’s shoulders relax, if only a little.

“And how did that opportunity come to pass?” the taller blonde finally asks, but it isn’t as harsh as Levi anticipated.

Hell, it’s curious.

Willing — to not judge; to hear him out.

“Accidentally stumbled into her at the bar down the street,” Levi confesses.

Stumbled is an understatement.

— —

“So then — what does this mean?”

He doesn’t know.

God, he has no fucking clue.

Just like he had no fucking clue you’d be at this bar tonight; that you not only lived in the area, but in the same goddamn building just a few floors south.

You were meant to be a fluke thing.

A moment of weakness.

An anomaly he could solve like every other problem in his life, one he could reason to death and move on from once you realized that this hotline is a slippery slope to financial debt.

At the end of the day, it wasn’t meant to be real.

The calls, the laughter, the exchange of stories felt real, but that’s the selling point.

Imagining idealism.

He could send as many discounted invoices as he could to management to ease the cost of your calls, but there was only so much he could do from his position.

Still—

That being said, he wanted this.

For the first time in a long time, he wanted something.

Ever since Erwin’s gym went under and the staff were forced to find something else in the interim, Levi Ackerman turned off his emotions. His passion.

Money was tight.

Bills were bills.

But there are worse things to do than apply to a remote-working sex hotline with the promise of flexible hours, medical insurance, and the opportunity to get away from people for a while.

Maybe he hadn’t realized he was simply going through the motions of buying a morning tea at the coffee shop down the street.

Maybe he hadn’t noticed that his drive to push himself to the brink of exhaustion at the gym all but disappeared.

Maybe he existed to simply exist.

Then you called.

Petra had pinged him to let him know that there was someone looking for a deep voice — not surprising — with a tendency to overtalk and overthink.

Easy.

Those types always cave the second you call them a pet name or sprinkle a little praise.

Yet you burst into his life like a damn firework to the face and he’s never recovered since.

Being nervous is a staple on these calls. He’s heard every justification in the book just as he’s witnessed people use the hotline like they’re robots.

You wanted to talk.

Petra doesn’t send people to him if they want to talk.

(Did she know, somehow, that he needed this?)

Conspiracies aside, the last two weeks became some of the best of his life.

Now you knew his face, and he knew yours.

And Christ, you were beautiful.

Your voice was one thing — like a soothing balm to his insomnia — but your face nearly took him right the hell out.

Even in the mirror backsplash of the bar, he couldn’t stop staring. Didn’t want to, not when he finally saw what he wanted right in the palm of his hand.

So he was honest.

Honest about his life, his job, his black hole of an existence — maybe to scare you away so you’d choose better than a guy like him.

That he was the first to break the rules.

That he was sorry, because you weren’t looking for more baggage after a shit breakup with a shithead of a guy.

You didn’t care.

So he decided to rip a page out of his goddamn advice book:

Be selfish.

“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”

Autopilot.

Everything is on autopilot when he picks up that damn pen and starts to scribble on a napkin, allowing his nervous system to suckerpunch his logic right out the damn window.

“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow—”

Bail.

Bail, bail, bail, before you make a damn fool of yourself, Levi Ackerman.

He doesn’t.

He straightens his spine, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand.

The heat of it almost makes his stomach clench.

If he were bolder, then maybe he’d steal you away from your friends. Keep asking questions to make you talk more. Watch as your eyes light up about your favorite things—

He can’t. Won’t.

You’re with your friends. He’s already taken enough time away from them for you.

“—give me a call.”

Maybe he’s chickenshit for running, but at least there’s a part of him brave enough to leave him his personal cell number in the palm of your hand.

Before you can say anything, he drops some money on the counter to pay for both drinks and a tip and leaves to walk home.

To contemplate.

(Assuming you likely won’t call. He wouldn’t blame you.)

The night air leaves a sobering sting on his cheeks as he steps outside.

It’s considerably quieter than the cramped space of the bar, but cabs bustle in the street.

His pocket vibrates not once but twice.

(So not a text.)

Fishing his phone out, Levi squints at the ‘Unknown Caller’ ID staring up at him.

He swipes right to accept said call, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”

“Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”

His heart falls out of his ass.

Whipping back around to the tinted windows of the bar, Levi can’t help but look for that now-familiar face.

You’re blocked by an endless sea of conversations and bodies, but he still searches.

“My schedule just opened up,” you tell him from the other side of the line, your voice airy like you hold a secret. “I know it’s a little late for some coffee, but — are you free for some tea now?”

Shit.

Maybe he should be giving the headset for the hotline over to you.

“Depends,” Levi exhales. “Any shop worth a damn is closed at this hour.”

“Shit, you’re right.”

He liked it when you cursed.

Hell, he liked it when you weren’t afraid to be yourself around him the most.

“There’s a pop-up shop about six floors above yours,” Levi reasons with a shrug he assumes you can’t see; autopilot, “if you don’t mind walking a neighbor home.”

— —

“You said that?”

Hange, now at the brink of teetering off of their chair, gawks.

Levi blinks twice, realizing he’s given more of the story than he wanted to.

That they know it’s serious — dead fucking serious for him, actually — and that you’re his neighbor.

Yeah, he didn’t believe it either until you said yes.

“What?” Levi asks. “Something wrong?”

“No, that was just fucking smooth, dude,” Hange whistles low, impressed. “Pop-a-button-and-open-a-window kinda smooth. Holy shit.” They thumb towards Erwin. “You teach him to talk like that!?”

“Self-taught, I’m afraid,” Erwin hums. “Can’t take the credit.”

Hange flops back into their chair unceremoniously. “Jeeeez.”

“Six floors down, then?”

There’s a rare tint of pride in Erwin’s tone, like there’s a joke somewhere in that question he isn’t saying.

Levi immediately narrows his eyes.

“Yeah. She’s been my fuckin’ neighbor all this time, if you can believe that.”

He sure as hell can’t. The fact that you’re six floors away — have been — has kept him up at night.

He could run down there right now and show you off to his friends.

He could leave you home-cooked meals if you’re running behind at your office job.

He could do a lot of things, but—

“Is she requesting you to end your time at Scout Services?” Erwin asks, interrupting his trailing thoughts.

Levi’s stormy eyes meet a contemplative, oceanic stare.

“...no.”

A beat passes.

Despite his trepidation, he explains himself.

“She’s not asking me to quit it. Says she gets it, a job’s a job, but I don’t know how true that’ll be in the long run.”

“And you believe her?”

He knows Erwin’s skepticism isn’t unfounded, but it sets a fire in his belly.

Questioning you, the newfound gravity keeping him grounded on planet earth.

(You're just a stranger to him, too, at the end of the day, but you don't feel like one. Not really.)

“I can’t expect anyone to stay neutral about what the fuck it is we do, Erwin," he reasons diplomatically. "I can say everything on my mind and put it on paper, but I’m sure the doubt will still creep in. Everything’s too new to tell. It won’t be easy, but it…”

He sighs, running his hand once more through his straight-and-narrow black hair.

“I just need you two dumbasses to keep me in check. I can’t—”

Hange frowns, and he hates the sympathetic tone they take when they say his name.

“Levi—”

“Four Eyes,” Levi interrupts stronger yet weaker in resolve, effectively shutting down their protest, “I can’t fuck this up. So don’t let me.”

The air grows thick, like winding vines corrupting the foundation of a tree.

Levi glances between the two of them, nostrils flaring with unspoken difficulty.

Erwin is the first to nod. Wordlessly, but he does.

Hange sighs with conclusion not a second after and nods, too.

“Am I at least allowed to ask one thing?” they chirp, holding out one slender finger to the sky. “Just one teeny, tiny thing — yes or no.”

A part of him really wants to say no.

A part of him really wants to say this conversation is over before he gives them anymore concrete information about you as he navigates these uncharted waters of being a not-so-normal boyfriend to a very-normal-ass person.

He fights.

Fails.

“...fine,” he grumbles. “The fuck’s the question?”

Hange perks up, all too smug.

“Did the pop-up shop six floors up line work?”

The memory blossoms in the back of his skull.

His body warms as if trapped under an electric blanket, heat setting cranked a little too high.

Instinctively his eyes flicker to the front door of his apartment.

Like you’ll burst in at any moment with your work bags and stress and the hope that he’ll have the same soothing balm you’ve gifted him, hands at the ready to fix your problems for you.

He hasn’t wanted much.

He’s never wanted much, but—

Shit, if he doesn’t want to be good to you.

“...something like that.”

Author's Note:

AHHHH HI EVERYONE! WE'RE AT IT AGAIN WITH MODERN!LEVI SHENANIGANS! How are we feeling to be back?

I seriously cannot believe we're here. I've never done a sequel before, but the demand was overwhelming and I couldn't help but agree: we could do with learning what happens after the final call.

And we will, in this seven (maybe more?) part series. I had to actually break up part one because it got way too large of a chapter, so I promise we'll be picking up right where we left off in P4 -- like, quite literally That Fateful Night in part two.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk fanfic #aot fanfic #aot fic #snk fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #aot x reader #snk x reader #levimonth24

494 notes · View notes

casiia · 10 months

Text

༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; his girls.

warnings .: female reader, the SMALLEST bit of angst, just a lot of overly detailed domestic simon. baby daddy simon who is still in love with you! maybe ooc. unedited cuz :p

note .: ty baby suz for reading it over!! @dr4kenz <;33

.: masterlist.

baby daddy ! simon who walks with his daughter to school for her first day, he’s has her small disney-themed backpack tugged onto his shoulder, the straps too small and digging into his skin. but he doesn’t care. his other hand is accompanied by your daughter, her small fingers looped around only his index.

she’s babbling about random things, how excited she is to make new friends, the ladybug who landed on her shoulder and gave her good luck, how she’s going to pick out new hair clips when you take her to the mall later today.

she’s jumping around — her light-up shoes blinking wildly with every exaggerated step, and simon hovers his arm close behind her in case she slips and falls.

“you don’t have to, it’s early in the morning, and i know you’re busy,” you mumble over the phone, pressing the device between your ear and shoulder. you’re cursing softly, trying to fix up your daughter’s lunch while trying not to burn her special breakfast, the blueberry pancakes that you dyed purple with food coloring, a tradition she started when she first started pre-school. since then, as good luck, she would stuff herself with the artificially colored pancakes for the first day of school.

from the other line, simon can hear all the commotion, and he’s already slipping out of his pajamas and into warmer clothes. “how ‘bout i come over and help her get ready?” his question is more of a loose remark. he’s already heading down the stairs to slip his shoes on.

you hiss loudly, your hand brushing against the hot kettle you had put on for your cup of tea. “no, i couldn’t ask you to do that.” you set your phone down and put it on speaker, sighing loudly when the flames flicker over the pan. you had burnt her pancakes and would have to make them again. “just go back to sleep.”

“i’m already on my way,” simon grunts, the cold air slapping him in the face as he steps outside and into his car. “miss that little bug,” he utters, keeping you on the phone as he begins to drive. if he’s being honest, your frantic voice eases him a bit; it reminds him that he is still needed despite your relationship. whenever things get too rough for you, there’s not a moment of hesitation when you call him, and although you deny any attempts of his help, he knows that you’re just being stubborn.

his drive to your place is short; he’s fishing into his pocket and pulling out the spare key you gave him. a childish giggle and tiny footsteps greet him before he can fully open the door, small arms wrapping around his leg.

“daddy!” the young girl squeals, her arms hugging his thigh tighter as she forcefully drags him through the door. simon’s lips turn up in a soft smile, and he kicks his shoes off and picks up his daughter. “hey, kid. you givin’ mama a hard time?”

the stubble on his chin tickles her when he presses a wet kiss to her cheek, another giggle rising from her chest. simon hoists her onto his hip, holding her close as he walks into the house to find you.

for a moment, he watches you as you continue to busy yourself in the kitchen. pajamas loosely hanging from your body, your hair pulled into a messy bun – strands slipping from the rubberband and splaying over the nape of your neck.

“hey, ma.” simon greets, his voice gruff and deep from just waking up moments ago. he presses his free hand to your hip and lets his lips linger on the temple of your forehead. a sweet, friendly…good morning kiss. how he always greets his girls.

“mornin’ si.” you turn in his hold, glancing up at him in acknowledgment before you flip another large pancake. “can you get her dressed? i laid out an outfit on her bed.”

the girl squirming in simon’s arms huffs, her hands reaching out and grasping onto your loose fitted shirt – simon’s old shirt he’d left behind. “i can get dressed on my own! ‘m a big girl now.” she argues with a whine, her hands being pulled off you by simon’s calloused fingers.

“big girls don’t need hot chocolate before bed,” you say, turning to give her chubby cheeks a gentle pinch. a smile painting your lips when she pulls away, turning her face and smushing it into her father’s chest.

simon nods, and although you can’t see it now that your attention is turned back to the slightly burnt pancakes in front of you, you know he’s leaving with the way his hand falls from your hip.

you hate the way that you’re so comfortable with him around, especially with the way your relationship with him ended. originally, simon never knew that you were pregnant. you had opted out of telling him one too many times, nerves overtaking you; the idea of being a mother alone was too much. but having to tell the man who had told you time and time again he wasn’t ready for kids, that he was to be expecting one – it made you more nauseous than the baby in your stomach.

although lucky for you, he broke up with you before you could tell him. unlucky for you, his reason for doing so was unselfish; you couldn’t find it in yourself to hold any hatred towards him. with a heavy heart, he told you things weren’t working out for him, he loved you so much, but with how busy he was at work, he found less time to see you and even less time to express his adoration.

most days when you were able to see him, it consisted of just cuddling, little words spoken except for your inquiries about his future and thoughts of having kids. he always mumbled that he didn’t have time to think about that kind of stuff, and just pull you closer to his chest, nuzzling his face into your skin and dozing off to sleep.

it didn’t bother you one bit; just being with him in his arms was enough for you.you didn’t mind that your time together was spent sleeping or sharing a quiet meal. it wasn’t fair to you, none of it was fair – but simon knew you deserved better. so he reluctantly had to break things off; it was the only thing he could think of. he didn’t know how to fix things, how to communicate that he didn’t want to be apart from you. he just didn’t have the time to be there for you at the moment, and he knew he was hurting you either way, so if you could find another to confide in, to turn your heart to, that would be enough for him.

after years of being apart, simon found himself standing in front of your door, full gear still clinging to him tightly, his palms sweaty but hidden from his gloves. he pressed his head into your door, a frustrated groan bubbling in his aching chest. what was he thinking, showing up to your place unannounced? what if you didn’t even live here anymore? what if you had moved on and wanted nothing to do with him?

it was selfish, but he needed to see you again. not a day went by where you weren’t on his mind, the barracks drove him to madness, and without escape, he found comfort in an old picture of you he had taken with him.

you had opened the door after three of his hesitant knocks; confusion etched onto your face as you stared up at the masked man, his eyes familiar but looming with newfound hurt and trauma from the brutal battlefield.

“did you need something?” you asked, the soft babbling from your television the only thing filling the air after he looked down at you in silence. just taking you in for a moment. you looked tired but beautiful as ever. your hair slightly tangled, old baggy clothes of his that hung from your smaller figure – but you still had the same friendly smile on your face, genuine and kind eyes that looked up at him.

he swallowed thickly; you looked happy. who was he to ruin that by coming back? he had come all this way without any regrets. seeing you again was all he desired. you were happy, and that’s all he needed to know; he didn’t want to know about the person who might’ve stepped in and mended your heart together after he broke it.

gripping his bag tightly, he turned, walking off without a second glance. it was time for him to move on. you had. he was a fool to think things could go back to how it had, how he could hold you so intimately in his arms, whispering in your ear how much he loved you. feeling your lips all over his skin, the way your soft hands would trail along his burning skin. he was so stupid.

“simon?”

your voice was just barely above a whisper, and you watched with wide eyes the way he stopped in his tracks, muscles flexed under his tight-fitted uniform as he tensed.

his heart was beating out of his chest, ringing in his ear. turning back to face you, he hooked two fingers under his balaclava and pulled it off. he hated how you looked at him, concerned, creasing your brows. you should hate him; you should be angry that he showed his face to you again. instead, you’re tracing your thumb along his scars, ones that you didn’t recognize and the faint ones that you had already seen before.

simon sighed softly under your touch, dropping his bag and wrapping his arms around you. he pressed his nose into your hair, breathing in your scent while hugging you tightly. he almost broke down when he felt your arms coil around him, pulling him closer and burying your head into his chest.

“mommy?”

just like that, simon’s world crashes down again. he pulls away from you and looks over your shoulder to see a small girl, no older than seven standing in the doorway. she was a spitting image of you, so there was no doubt that she wasn’t yours. although, in a sense, it felt like he was looking in a mirror. piercing brown eyes staring back at him with the same amount of confusion.

“we should talk, si.” you’re wrapping your hand around his wrist, gently tugging him inside. without any hesitation, he’s following close behind you.

since then, and that very painfully confusing conversation. simon had made his way back into your life, calling every day, showing up unannounced, and accompanying you to your daughters' school events. you didn’t complain; a life without a father was a hard one. you were glad that simon was being responsible and stepping up, and you couldn’t lie; feelings from years ago still lingered, so you enjoyed that you could spend quality time with him again.

simon chuckles lowly when his daughter smushes his cheeks with her small palms, her legs kicking into his torso as he carries her into her room. setting her down on the edge of her bed, he glances at the outfit you’d picked for her – a cute, frilly, pink dress with little white sneakers and a white cardigan.

he lets his daughter dress herself, only stepping in to help when she tries to stick her head into her sleeve. he kneels in front of her, slipping on her tiny shoes and tying the laces. kissing her knees, he pats her cheeks and fixes her dress when she jumps down and spins in a circle.

“pancakes are ready, sweetheart!” you shout from the kitchen, sliding the hotcakes onto a plate and setting it on the dining table. zipping up her lunchbox, you set it aside before grabbing two mugs and pouring tea for you and simon.

the pair hobbles into the kitchen, simon tugged along by the hyper girl. he shakes his head with a faint smile, lifting and setting her on the chair. you lean against the counter, mug in hand, while you watch as he cuts up her purple pancakes, popping a piece into his mouth and earning a loud complaint from the young girl.

you hand him the other mug filled with tea, brewed just how he likes. he grins, looking at the cup over and realizing it’s his favorite mug, one no one is allowed to drink from unless it’s him. simon leans in and kisses your cheek before leaning against the counter next to you, the two of you watching your daughter scarf down the purple pancakes like it’d be her last meal.

you lean over with a soft pout, grabbing a napkin and wiping syrup off the corner of her mouth. “are you excited for your first day of school?”

she nods quickly, stuffing the last of her breakfast into her mouth before she leans back, patting her stomach with satisfaction. “gonna make so many new friends today,” she grins up at you with a crooked smile.

“bet you are. we should get going. don’t wanna be late,” simon says, setting the dishes into the sink and slinging the disney-themed backpack onto his broad shoulder.

you frown, during the midst of it all, frantic to get things done, you had completely forgotten to change or get yourself ready. you sigh heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose. one simple mistake after another, and now you’d have to miss sending your little girl off for her first official day of school.

simon is quick to notice your mood dropping; he shuffles over to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, tilting your head up. “why don’t you rest, i’ll wake you later, and we can pick her up together.”

you sigh, your shoulders dropping in disappointment. it was silly, but you had been with your daughter every step of the way. it wasn’t a big moment you’d be missing, but a memory nonetheless. you wanted to push yourself, rush into your room and get ready as quickly as possible so you could walk with your simon, holding hands with your daughter while she swung between the both of you. but exhaustion was creeping from your muscles and to your eyes, your eyelids struggling to stay open.

with an unwilling yawn, you nod and let simon guide you to the comfort of your bedroom.

“c’mon bug, let’s tuck mommy in for a quick nap.” simon teases, pulling the comforter back and easing you down onto the mattress. he takes a step back and helps your daughter pull the blanket back up and tuck it under your chin.

“night, mommy. dream of sweets!” the small girl loudly shouts, afraid you won’t be able to tear her with the blanket covering your face.

you smile at her words, turning onto your side to look at her. “thank you, baby.”

simon brushes the hair out of your eyes, leaning down and lightly pressing his lips to your temple. he then lifts his daughter so she can do the same, finalizing your tuck in with a goodnight kiss…or a good morning one.

“alright, let’s get you to school, kiddo.”

the sun hangs low as simon walks hand in hand with his daughter, a short walk to the school a couple of blocks away. the air was chilling, and simon had tugged off his jacket and slipped it onto the young girl, the article of clothing hanging massively on her frame, the hem almost dragging on the floor.

he adjusted the straps of the small colorful backpack, very snug on his broad shoulder and digging into his skin – but he didn’t care; he wore it with pride.

simon’s daughters’ chatter filled the quiet streets as she rambled about her hopes for the day. her small fingers clutched her father's index finger tightly, her words a delightful mixture of innocence and imagination.

“daddy, you know what?” she asks, her voice laced with enthusiasm. she looks up at him with a grin before her attention is quickly redirected towards a small patch of flowers, a bloom of yellow bursting in a patch of healthy green grass.

simon watches as she lets go of his hand, crouching down and picking a couple of stems, gathering a few before returning to his side. “what, sweetheart?”

“that ladybug that landed on my shoulder yesterday said i’m going to have the best day ever today!” she exclaims, handing the crumpled bundle of probable weeds to him, brushing her damp hands on the outside of her father’s jacket.

simon chuckles lightly at her action, his hands delicately holding the array of flowers. “the ladybug said that?”

“yep!” she said, continuing to marvel at the dream that she had that night; something about mayonnaise and mustard made simon smile, her infectious energy captivating him.

as they walked, simon took note of the new shoes you had bought your daughter, the bright light-up shoes blinking with each exaggerated step she took. she jumped around, hopping over every line on the sidewalk, claiming that they would break your back, simon didn’t understand, but he held an arm behind her in case she tumbled backward.

approaching the school gate, simon couldn’t help but feel a frown forming on his face, the memory-filled walk ending too soon. he knelt at his little girl’s eye level, pulling her closer to him.

“have a good day, kid. if anyone gives you trouble, tell me, and i’ll get it sorted out.” he teased, although only half of him was joking. simon slipped his jacket off her and fixed her backpack onto her shoulders, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

“i will! give mommy those flowers when she wakes up.” she nods, glancing behind her at the many kids that walked into the gate before hugging her father quickly, stumbling out of his hold and rushing towards the school, excitement coursing through her veins.

simon wished she had stayed a little longer, hugged him a little more, and kissed him back. still, as he watched her run into school, he realized something, he was old – and that his happiness weighed out his disappointment. he might’ve been absent for the beginning chapters of her life, but this was the first big step he was here for. it made him realize how many more were to come; watching her grow up warmed his thoughts, and he could do it all by your side. just you and his daughter, his girls.

AN: i have so many parts alr written for baby daddy simon. SHOULD I MAKE THIS A SERIES, and do i name the kid...??

#[ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒. ]#papa simon #UGH #( 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ )#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader fluff #ghost x reader #ghost x reader fluff #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #cod #call of duty #call of duty fluff #cod fluff

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in-another-april · 3 months

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im so sorry if you saw this twice, my queue messed up AGAIN smh. im not even kidding when i say i woke up at 3am in a cold sweat and wrote this. kindaa suggestive, so 17+ pls and ty!!

Spencer's sure he could kiss you for hours and never get tired of it.

He's obsessed with the feeling of you against him, pulling you closer and closer until you're practically on top of him. You'd tease him for being needy if you weren't just as bad, hands pressed desperately on the back of his neck to keep him there. As if he would ever want to pull away.

He's eager, almost hungry in the way he pushes his mouth against yours. Needing you like the air he breathes, just wanting more and more and more until there's nothing left of either of you. Your undoing is evident in your fast, ragged breaths and the whines that escape him when your teeth graze his bottom lip.

As soon as you pull away for air, his mouth chases yours, missing the taste of you already. His big, lust-blown eyes staring at you almost longingly, as if he didn't just have you. Still, you stay close, noses pressed together as you pant against each others mouths, before yours forms into a smirk.

"I thought you wanted to watch the movie?" It's breathless, (and entirely too smug for someone who was climbing onto his lap just minutes into the opening scene.) His eyes widen comically, like he didn't have his tongue down your throat moments ago, sputtering a squeaky, "shut up" before tugging you back down to his lips.

masterlist | inbox

——

taglist - @lover-of-books-and-tea @maskysluvr @aurorsworld @wisteriaspencer @radioactiveinvisible @mandarinmoons @spencereidapologist @lyd14k4y @luvkatryna @khxna (send an ask or message to be added/removed!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #x reader #reid x reader

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chainelunaire · 1 year

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hands hands hands

gojo satoru

light easy touches, almost innocent (sometimes not). very touchy, you probably know his hands better than your own. feeling everything with the tips of his fingers. pats on your head and making a mess of your hair, then tying it up nicely. hand around your shoulder, when he says something directly in your ear. playing with a pen while pretending to listen. hands big and warm everywhere but his fingertips. hands of a man who has a lot of love to give but doesn't know how to show it properly.

geto suguru

long slender hands, slightly cold but not much. surprisingly rough skin, but the gentlest touch of all. deadly, deadly hands, capable of ending someone's life bare. playing piano or with a knife with the same ease. the beauty of just touching someone without saying a word. folding hands in prayer, worshipping a cruel god, made by people themselves. tender palm caressing your head, touch as warm as it is motherly. hands so loved by the kids, because they never ever let anyone hurt them again. relatively long nails, always perfectly manicured. hands of a man who knows how to love, but chose otherwise.

nanami kento

very moderate, very predictable, right in the middle. not so warm, not so cold, skin not rough not soft. hands smell like rich black tea, because of how often he made it for you. the feeling you get when someone writes something by hand in front of you for quite some time. knuckle cracking, even though he himself despises to do it, he does it out of habit. hand that always guides you throw the crowd. fingers trembling when he's too tired. hands of a man who always wanted to love, but never had the chance to.

fushiguro toji

confident hands of a dangerous man. you can never recall the feeling of the skin, because of how rarely he touches you. hands closing before his face on autopilot, because of how severely he was beaten in his own household. calloused fingers, clecnhing fists out of sudden bursts of anger. grip firm, it's impossible to get out. careful playing with dangling toys above small bed, laugher of a child filling the room. sound of cracking bones and the smell of blood everywhere. hands of a man who once knew love, but it was so long ago, the feeling long forgotten.

ryomen sukuna

hands covered in blood, brutal hands of a violent, non-human creature. they hold no love, no joy, not anything. touch not warm, but insted hot, painful. skillful hands, which know how to turn anything into a weapon by the touch. a big talent for craftmanship. short but strong squeeze on your shoulder, commanding you to continue the battle. big cruel hands holding a small ancient poetry book with so much care and respect. so many scars, yet only so much still do hurt. hands of a man who knew no love and therefore chose to love no one but himself.

itadori yuji

warm hands, strong hold. always dry and rough, to the point they bleed sometimes. he blushes when you put bandages on them. clean short nails. playing basketball with ease. olive-toned veins, warm toned skin, smells like something sweet and almost sunny. clenching fists when he's angry. hands oh so tender when they hold something or someone dear to him. palms kindly cupping your cheeks when he says you with a smile that everything will be okay. hold so strong, he's able to catch you, no matter how fast you fall. hands of a friend who does not love himself enough, but instead loves you more than you deserve.

fushiguro megumi

long slim fingers, gentle touches. always so cautious, as if he's not allowed to touch anything or anyone. detailed handwork with magic sealing, so precise and smooth. putting a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips cold, but soft. strong yet careful hold on your shoulder, comforting touches to soothe you and bring you some relief. hands that every dog and any other animal loves, because of how gentle and caring they are. hands of someone who was loved, despite everything that happened to him, and who wants to give that love back.

yuta okkotsu

cold cold cold hands of a man with a dead soul behind his back. boney and slim, they look fragile and weak, and you could not be more wrong. pale skin, borderline bluish, lots of bruises. hands more of a musician, not a swordsman. hold so strong, it almost scares you, and he didn't even try. sweet tight hugs, feeling safe with every muscle and bone. fears of his own strength, the hold of a man who earns for love and fears to break it with his own hands.

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jettingtothemoon · 7 months

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Daughter of the Spirits; chapter 11

➳ pairing: zuko x f!reader ➳ genre: a retelling of the show from season 2 onwards with a heavy focus and expansion on zuko’s story (canon divergent) ➳ warnings: violence, swearing, smut (underaged if your age of consent is above 16), spoilers for anyone who hasn’t seen the show ➳ word count: 3537 ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ summary: In which y/n comes across the fire nation prince during her stay in Ba Sing Se. ➳ tags: @harmlessoffering, @lammello (i’m sorry if i’m forgetting anyone, lmk if i am or if you want to be added)

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14,

The Invasion

You found out from Mai and Ty Lee that there had been another war meeting — one Zuko hadn’t been invited to. He was furious, of course.

For the first time in years, he was finally starting to feel like a prince again. What with all the servants at his beck and call, insisting he take the palanquin when traversing the city, even if he was only out on an errand with you. People were by his side day and night, making sure he had everything he needed. It was exactly how it should have been, even if it was quite the adjustment for you both, yet he had still been excluded by his father.

He had told you about his banishment. How he had spoken up at a war meeting and disgraced his father, leading to the agni kai where he had to fight the very man that was supposed to protect him. The man who scarred and banished his own child.

Only this morning was he happy and smiling, simply enjoying the time he got to spend with you. Now, however, he sat staring out of the window, watching as the clouds passed over the moon in silent contemplation.

“Zuko,” you said his name and yet, he didn't move. Didn’t even flinch. It was as if he hadn’t even heard you, only you knew he had.

"Zuko," you tried again, this time wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Wordlessly, he leaned into you. His scowl never once left his face but he was at least trying to control his temper for you, allowing himself to fall into your embrace.

"It's just a war meeting. I bet they're full of old, boring men."

Your attempt at amusing him seemed to fail as he leaned away from you and back against the window. "They're important. All the best advisors and the entire royal family attend. Even Azula is going."

"Just another reason that it won't be fun, Azula will be there."

Now that got a chuckle. A small one, but a chuckle nonetheless.

"Stop worrying about it and come to bed."

He hummed, turning away from the window and towards you. He wasn't happy and he probably wouldn't be for a while, but at least he could relax with you. Even when things weren’t going his way.

The next day, you sat with Zuko as you made a cup of jasmine tea. He sulked beside you with a frown on his face, thinking about the meeting that was about to start without him. You could tell how badly he wanted to be there, even if he did keep shrugging it off when you tried to comfort him. You thought making some tea would help but it only seemed to sour his mood further and you soon realised it was because he was missing his uncle.

You missed Iroh too. You had wanted to go and visit him but Zuko forbade you, expressing how dangerous it would be if you did. Azula had found out when he went to see him and if anyone were to find out you were visiting a traitor of the Fire Nation you would be hauled away and thrown into a cell of your own before either of you could do anything to stop it.

It pained you to think of the old man sitting in a dark, grimey cell. More so when the smell of jasmine tea reminded you as much of him now as it did your mother.

“Prince Zuko,” your attention was drawn to a servant as he entered the room with a bow, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Zuko looked from you to the man who now knelt at the floor with furrowed brows before getting up from where he sat. “What?”

“The high admirals, high generals, the war ministers, and the princess have all arrived. You’re the only person missing,” the servant explained, his eyes lifting to look at the prince as he spoke.

You stood beside Zuko with a heavily beating chest as he asked, “So my dad wants me at the meeting?”

The servant bowed again. “The Firelord said he would not start until you have arrived, sir.”

With a full smile, Zuko turned to you and, although he was going to a meeting where they would likely discuss the deaths of even more people you loved and knew, you couldn’t help but feel happy for him. This was all he’d ever wanted — to be accepted by his father. To be loved and wanted. For his opinions to matter. That alone brought you hope because if he could sway his father or even some of the generals, perhaps he could help save lives on both sides of the war.

You, along with Mai, waited outside the meeting for him, both anxious to hear how it went. She had offered to come with you so that you would not be alone in the palace for too long since she knew just how daunting that could be. Besides, she was still Zuko’s friend too, just as she was now yours.

When he finally emerged, Mai was the first to ask, “So? How did it go?”

“When I got to the meeting, everyone welcomed me. My father had saved me a seat, he wanted me next to him. I was literally at his right hand.”

His words almost sent a chill down your spine as you thought of the worst — that rather than Zuko swaying the Firelord’s mind about the war, that it would be his father who would sway him. You knew better than that, though, and as much was confirmed when you were met with nothing but a troubled expression on Zuko’s face.

“That’s wonderful,” Mai grinned, “You must be happy.”

The three of you stopped in front of a large tapestry, one displaying a large portrait of Firelord Ozai. You placed a reassuring hand on Zuko’s shoulder as he looked up at it and exchanged a worried glance with Mai.

“During the meeting I was the perfect prince,” he concluded, “The son my father wanted… but I wasn’t me.”

You ran your hand down his arm and slotted it into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. For a moment, he squeezed it back, but then tugged his hand free and began to walk away, leaving both you and Mai behind.

She sighed and became the one placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Give him time. This was a good thing, he’ll realise that soon.”

You hummed although you did not agree. The only good thing was that Zuko was starting to realise who he was and that the man he was wasn’t the man his father wanted him to be. He was not ruthless and cold. He was kind and strong and so many other things his father would never be. He was better than him and finally, you thought he was beginning to realise that.

When you returned to your room, you found him writing a letter.

“What are you doing?” you questioned, wondering what he was up to.

“Writing to Mai. I at least owe her a goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” you asked, your brows furrowed.

He hummed. “We’re leaving. I… This isn’t who I am. Not anymore. An invasion has begun, we can slip away in the chaos but I have to do something first.”

Whatever he had in mind, whether he just wanted to leave and find your parents or maybe, just maybe, hunt down and join the avatar, you knew you were going with him. After all the time that had passed since you left Ba Sing Se, he was finally ready to accept who he was. He was finally going to do the right thing.

He passed you the brush when he was finished, allowing you to write your apologies and goodbyes to your newfound friends. You addressed both Mai and Ty Lee directly, wishing them well and hoping you would not come to face them on opposite sides of the battlefield. The two of you then signed the letter and Zuko left to take it to her home, putting it someplace where she would see it long after the two of you were gone.

After he returned, as you collected what little things you owned, he knelt before a portrait of his mother and closed his eyes. “I know I’ve made some bad choices, but today I’m gonna set things right.”

He picked up his swords and a small bag of provisions, turning to the lighter side of himself once again, and pulled his hood up to conceal his face.

You stepped forward and pulled him into your arms, pressing a kiss to his lips as your thumb stroked the side of his face. “It’s going to be okay, you know. You’re doing the right thing.”

He smiled and leaned into your touch. “I know.”

He led you quickly through the palace and down underground. You could hear the fighting up above as you moved through the tunnels and Zuko explained that during the eclipse today, no one would be able to Firebend. It was the perfect time for an attack and, along with the invasion forces, would surely be the avatar. He had a plan and that plan was to join them, to help the avatar finally put an end to this war.

But he had to confront his father first and what better time was there to do that than when he had no bending?

When he finally came to a halt before a large, reinforced door, you felt your heart in your throat. How would Ozai react to the news of his son’s betrayal? Would he try to kill him then and there? Or perhaps he would simply try to imprison you both? Either way, you were prepared. You would use your bending — all of your bending — to fight. You were fighting for yourself. You were fighting for your family. You were fighting for Zuko.

You held his hand, squeezing it in reassurance as you had done time and time before.

“I’m ready to face you,” he spoke, as though his father could hear him through the door.

He did not protest as you walked to the door with him, nor did he ask you to remain behind as he walked inside. As dangerous as what he was about to do was, he trusted that you would be safe by his side, and that he would be safe by yours. Whatever was going to happen, you were going to do it together.

“Prince Zuko,” his father addressed him with a frown and lowered his cup of tea, “What are you doing here?”

Zuko walked towards his father, with you standing only a few paces behind. This was his moment and you wanted him to have it but if he needed you, you would be there to fight by his side.

“I’m here to tell the truth,” Zuko declared from where he stood, staring his father down.

The firelord furrowed his brows and signalled for his guards to leave, his eyes only once flickering from Zuko to you. “Telling the truth during the middle of an eclipse? This should be interesting.”

Zuko only spoke again when the guards were gone, the strong doors sliding shut behind them, “First of all, in Ba Sing Se it was Azula who took down the avatar, not me.”

“Why would she lie to me about that?” Ozai questioned.

“Because the avatar is not dead,” Zuko explained, “He survived.”

“What?” Only then did the firelord’s expression change. What was a calm and collected leader suddenly turned into an angry father. One who was clearly afraid of what the avatar could do if he was still alive.

“In fact, he’s probably leading this invasion. He could be on his way here right now.” For a moment, it almost seemed as though Zuko was warning his father, as though he had not really turned his back on him. He was still his father, after all, but you knew him better than that. He was changed and he was here for one thing and one thing only, to bid his father farewell.

“Get out!” the firelord snapped with a wave of his hand, anger boiling up in him, “Get out of my sight right now if you know what’s good for you.”

Although the firelord’s temper was continuing to grow, Zuko remained calm. From where you stood behind him, you could almost hear the satisfaction in his voice as he spoke, “That’s another thing. I’m not taking orders from you anymore.”

His father’s brows crossed in rage and you adopted a defensive stance as he began to walk towards Zuko. “You will obey me or this defiant breath will be your last!”

The prince unsheathed his swords, standing ready to fight his father as he demanded, “Think again. I am going to speak my mind and you are going to listen.”

To both of your surprise, the firelord sat back down as though he was ready to hear whatever Zuko had to say. The two of you still stood at the ready, prepared for a fight. You closed your eyes for a moment, focusing on the ground beneath you. You could feel the echoing rumble of machines coming from the surface, another sign of the battle above.

“For so long, all I wanted was for you to love me,” Zuko admitted, casting his eyes to the ground, “To accept me. I thought it was my honour that I wanted but really I was just trying to please you. You, my father, who banished me just for talking out of turn,” he pointed at Ozai with the end of his blade, “My father who challenged me, a thirteen year old boy to an agni kai. How can you possibly justify a duel with a child?”

It was like a weight off your own chest to hear him finally letting go of all that had burdened him, telling his father just how he felt after all he had done to him.

The firelord only scowled, looking at Zuko as though he was nothing but the dirt under his shoe as he spat, “It was to teach you respect!”

“It was cruel and it was wrong!”

“Then you’ve learnt nothing. This girl,” he gestured to you, “Has only made you weaker than you already were.”

“No! I’ve learned everything, and I’ve had to learn on my own. Growing up, we were taught that the Fire Nation was the greatest civilisation in history, and somehow the war was our way of sharing our greatness with the world. What an amazing lie that was, the people of the world are terrified by the Fire Nation. They don’t see our greatness, they hate us! And we deserve it. We’ve created an era of fear in the world and if we don’t want the world to destroy itself, we need to replace it with an era of peace and kindness.”

The firelord laughed out loud, mocking his son even now. “Your uncle has gotten to you, hasn’t he?”

There was a brief pause and Zuko smiled, actually smiled, in the face of his father’s taunts. “Yes, he has.”

“And this girl? She stands with you now, is she not of the Fire Nation too? Another traitor turned by your uncle’s tricks?”

Now it was you who stifled a laugh. “A traitor? Zuko isn’t a traitor and neither is his uncle. You are the one who betrayed the Fire Nation, you even betrayed your own blood because you’re so blinded by power you can’t see the bigger picture. My name is y/n and my parents were from the Northern Watertribe. They left their home and raised me in the Earth Kingdom to fight against your army! Even now, they fight against your cruelty, and now we do too!”

“You foolish girl,” Ozai glared at you with fire in his eyes, “What could you possibly do to stop me?”

“After we leave here today,” Zuko interrupted, answering his father’s question for the both of you, “We’re going to free uncle Iroh from his prison, and I’m gonna beg for his forgiveness. He’s the one who’s been a real father to me.”

The firelord only laughed again. “That’s just beautiful, maybe he can pass down to you the ways of tea and failure.”

“But I’ve come to an even more important decision,” he continued, ignoring his father completely, “I’m going to join the avatar and I’m going to help him defeat you.”

“Really?” Ozai smirked, “since you’re a full blown traitor now and you want me gone, why wait? I’m powerless, you’ve got your swords, why don’t you just do it now?”

“Because I know my own destiny. Taking you down is the avatar’s destiny,” he sheathed his swords and, although a part of you wanted nothing more than to strike him down now, you were in agreement with Zuko. It was not your place, “Goodbye.”

As Zuko turned and began to walk towards you again, ready to leave his father behind once and for all, the bitter man began to hurl more insults at his son, calling him a coward for confronting him during an eclipse when neither of them had their bending.

“If you have any real courage, you’ll stick around until the sun comes up. Don’t you want to know what happened to your mother?”

Those words stood Zuko in his tracks, even when you looked at him with pleading eyes. There was no time for this, the sun would be back soon and the two of you stood no chance against his father at his full power.

Without a second thought, the prince turned back around and demanded to know what happened the night his mother disappeared.

“My father, firelord Azulon, commanded me to do the unthinkable… to you, my own son, and I was going to do it. Your mother found out and swore she would protect you at any cost. She knew I wanted the throne and she proposed a plan. A plan in which I would become firelord and your life would be spared.”

It was awful, entirely diabolical, to think that a father would even consider murdering his own child but knowing what else the firelord had put Zuko through, somehow you weren’t at all surprised. It seemed in his very nature. You wondered what Zuko’s mother ever saw in the man.

“Your mother did vicious, treasonous things that night. She knew the consequences and accepted them. For her treason, she was banished.”

“So she’s alive...”

Cautiously, you moved to Zuko’s side, hoping to console him as tears began to spill across his face.

“Perhaps,” Ozai all but shrugged before raising his tone once again, “Now I realise that banishment is far too merciful a punishment for treason. Your penalty will be far steeper.”

In a flash, the firelord was moving, forming a stance you had only seen once before. The sun was back and he was drawing on its power to call lightning down. Lightning that he intended to use to put an end to his traitorous son once and for all.

“Zuko!” you cried, realising you had already missed your window to create a wall between the two of you and Ozai to block the attack.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as you ran towards Zuko only to see him do the impossible. He redirected the lighting, sending it crashing back down on his father who was thrown into the air at the force.

He grabbed your hand and ran, pulling you out of the bunker before his father could get back to his feet. As you ran out onto the streets, you saw what looked to be the avatar launching an assault on the Fire Nation airships, giving his friends enough time to retreat. “Look!”

“Do you think you can get up there?”

You furrowed your brows. There was a chance that with your bending you could reach the airships and help the avatar but you weren’t sure if you could get there in time. They were fleeing, after all, they weren’t going to stick around for long. Besides, you had more important things to do.

“Maybe,” you shrugged, “but I’m not leaving you. Let’s go get your uncle.”

With a determined smirk, he led you into the prison. He ran so fast that he seemed to miss the cowering guards and singed walls.

“Uncle!” he cried out when he reached Iroh’s cell but his uncle was already gone. The bars to his prison cell were broken and battered, blasted through from the inside. Iroh had already escaped.

Zuko was quick to run to one of the guards, interrogating him about what happened in a matter of seconds, only to be told what you already knew. Iroh had escaped, busted himself out before you had had the chance to get to him. He was long gone now, all you could do was get out of there yourselves.

“Zuko, we have to go. We’ll find Iroh again, I promise, but right now we need to leave!”

Although disappointed, he nodded and followed you back outside.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14,

#zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #zuko x you #prince zuko x you #zuko angst #zuko fluff #zuko smut #zuko fanfic #atla zuko #atla #zuko avatar the last airbender #avatar #avatar the last airbender

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tinyluvs · 1 year

Note

just cuddling and finally getting a chance to relax at home with Spencer after he has a rlly hard case and just getting to cater to him and give him head rubs 🥹 -🌺

yessss! head rubs are my favourite! ty angel, enjoy ♡

nervously, you pace by the front door, patiently waiting for spencer to get home. he had called ahead and whilst he didn't tell you the case was bad, you knew

in the kitchen the kettle pings as it finishes boiling but before you can go and see to that, a key turns in the lock and seconds later the door is being bumped open and your boy appears

"hey," you sigh, letting out the breath you hold every time he's away. spencer looks tired, his sleeves rolled up this elbows and tie hanging loose around his neck

he doesn't greet you back, sending a broken smile your way before he's dropping his bag and extending his arms to grab at you. your arms link around his neck, holding him close to your body

"i've missed you," he mumbles against your neck while he kicks the door shut, his free hand reaching behind him to lock the door.

when his arms eventually loosen around you, you step away, staring up at him, "i've missed you more," you whisper, "do you want tea?"

spencer smiles at you softly, a split second of brightness passing over his tired eyes, "yeah, please honey," he nods and lets you slip your hand into his, gently pulling him towards the kitchen

when you get to the kitchen spencer leans against the counter, one of his hands tugging on his tie, "do you want to go and get changed first, sweetheart?" you ask, rising onto your tip toes to grab two mugs from the cupboard

your boyfriend doesn't answer, his eyes distant. you pause, sliding both mugs onto the counter before gently reaching over to push spencer's hair out of his eyes, "hmm?' he asks, jumping slightly

"go and get changed into something comfy while i make these, please," you push softly, tracing your fingers over his exposed forearms. he nods slightly before wandering towards your bedroom

slowly you start making his tea, the way he likes it, not caring too much about your own in the moment. your spoon clinks against the sides of the mug as you stir, your mind wandering straight back to spencer

bad cases are a part of his job, though seeing him come home after one never gets any better, you feel helpless every time, never knowing what to say or do to make it all better

"honey?" spencer makes you jump this time, his hand smoothing over your waist as you look up at him, eyes wide, "come on," he says softly, taking both of your mugs

you follow him through to the living room, sliding into the corner of the couch, back against the armrest while spencer mirrors your position at the other end

both of you sip at your drinks, distantly listening to the rain pattering against the window before you speak, "do you want to talk about it?" you ask slowly, carefully

spencer shakes his head, resting against the back cushions of the couch, "not right now, maybe later," he mumbles, wrapping his hands around his mug while his legs tangle with yours

"okay, well i'll be here," you remind him, though he knows because you're always there, through the good and the bad. you watch as spencer goes distant again, staring through you instead of at you

silently you lean off of the couch, pushing your mug onto the table before reaching to take one of spencer's hands, pulling it away from his mug, "come lay," you say simply, guiding him until he's moving to where you want him

his mug joins yours on the table seconds before his body lowers onto yours. the weight and warmth is comforting to you, more than spencer will ever know, a reminder that he's there, with you

his head rests on your chest, his arms looping around your waist as his legs tangle with yours, again. “comfy?" you ask, dipping to press your lips against his forehead

"very," he sighs lightly, his eyes fluttering shut. you pull on the blanket that hangs over the back of the couch, throwing it over both of your bodies before your hands find their way into his hair

gently, you scratch at his scalp, barely dragging your nails over his skin. spencer hums against your chest as your fingers travel down his neck and over his shoulders

"i love you," you smile, though he can't see it. your nails tickle over his shoulders and he shudders before settling into the feeling

spencer tilts his head up, "i love you more," he doesn't give you the chance to argue, "tell me about what you did while i was away," he pleads gently, titling his head away from you to get comfortable again

"uhm," you think, letting your fingers return to his head, running through his hair, "i haven't really done a lot, it's been raining so much-"

spencer cuts you off, "but you love the rain,"

lightly, you giggle, "i do but i stay home, reading and watching tv, so that's what i've done," you pause, another attempt to think of anything to tell him, "oh god, i'm really boring,"

your conclusion is met by a chuckle from spencer, a sound that makes your heart burst inside of your chest, "you're not boring, not in the slightest," spencer smiles against your chest, you can feel it as he presses his lips against your skin

through a smile of your own you make a sound of light disagreement, "you have to say that though because you're in love with me," you tease, dragging out the words

"i am but that's not why i'm saying it," your boyfriend chuckles again, "i've got the day off tomorrow, we can be boring together, unless there's anything you have to do?" he asks

your fingers slip down to the sides of his neck, tracing over veins and soft skin, "i was going to go to the market, have a wander," you admit

"even if it's raining?"

"yeah, it'll be fun," you shrug, "we could get the supplies to make homemade soup and then spend the afternoon being boring together?" you suggest

spencer peppers kisses against your chest and tummy, "sounds perfect to me," he pauses, lifting his body up. he uses one hand to drag your body down the couch a little so when he lowers his body back onto you, his head lolls in the crook of your neck

silence falls across the room, both of you listening to the rain until spencer's breaths even out and his body goes heavy on top of yours but your fingers don't leave his hair until you eventually fall asleep

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily !! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

a/n i actually put effort into proofreading this but there’s probably still mistakes so pls shout at me if there is so i can fix it !! ♡

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