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#(totally not gonna cry again when i hear it)
derangedanomaly · 3 days
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...So, Chaos is like my comfort character rn, and him getting mad at us... again... genuinely makes me want to cry, I can't handle getting yelled at... Like at all, and right now I'm literally shaking, if like anyone yells at me in anyway, my brain immediately says that it's my fault and I mad them mad, and to get away from them... Ha ha ha..... I think I have a problem.... But, when I get like this, I hide from the person that yelled at me, for like hours, sometimes I disassociate from the person to the point I stop responding... Completely... And then I avoid them, fearing I'll get yelled at again, and make them mad again. I won't even ask for help, I'll stay quiet and do as I'm told, without a single thought running through my head, like completely empty.
I was wondering if you could write um, some headcanons on Mare, Chaos, and the trio getting angry and yelling at us and then we just start disassociating and then when they stop yelling, we just disappear for hours only to reappear and not say a single word, but avoid them because we feel like we upset them and fear that if we get close to them they'll get angry again. And we won't even ask for things, we just hide and won't come out until our mind feels it's safe. And if they try to talk to us, at all, our mind immediately feels its no longer safe, and then we disassociate again.
You're so real for this.. I literally can't handle arguments- I don't like conflicts at all.
MASTERLIST
THE BOYS X THE READER DISAPPEARING AFTER AN ARGUMENT
NIGHTMARE:
Of course he snapped. How could he not? You keep on making excuses upon excuses, just so you can get out of doing certain chores. Nightmare just can't keep it together anymore... he's seriously too tired for this.
He was surprised when you ran up to your room, and didn't show up the whole day.
He honestly started to get a lil concerned. But his pride didn't let him check up on you
It was a shock to him when you finally came out of your room.
But even through all this... he's still the king of negativity. Of course he's gonna enjoy your negative feelings.
Honestly- won't end well. He doesn't know how to comfort someone, and he'd probably make it worse than it is actually- so.... Not the best choice 😭
CHAOS:
He didn't want to yell... He didn't mean to yell and let his emotions out... But you just suddenly started mentioning his mom...again. He truly doesn't want to think about it- he doesn't want to hear about it. Then something in him just- snapped.
You wouldn't even make it up to your room, before he grabs your hand, and looks at you with tears in his eye.
The only thing that he didn't want to happen- happened. He yelled at you.
You two immediately resolved it!
Everything went back to normal- and now you know not to mention that topic again..
Honestly, one of the best choices here lmao.
ACE:
He tries to stay away from creating conflicts...he can't stand them. He doesn't search for them- and he sure as hell doesn't want them. But hearing you spitting "facts" about his favorite tv show just made him angry..
He feels horrible after he sees you run up the stairs, a total mess.
He also- much like Chaos- won't let it sit. He'll try to immediately solve your argument!
He'd apologize really passionately! Just snuggling up to you, telling you how much he appreciates you..
BLADE:
Blade couldn't keep his cool when you fiddled with his collection of knives. He just COULDN'T. And being the idiot he is, he raised his voice....which he quickly realized was a mistake.
He was confused when you started avoiding him-
This dumbass is such a dum dum that he lets this go on for a whole week 💀
He just doesn't know what to say/do😭🙏🏻
He'd crack though, after he starts missing you.
Yeah...you got yourself a begging mess of Blade lmao
TED:
He doesn't yell at you
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cup-noodle · 2 months
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MotA girlies: Does anyone know where to find the otherworldly violin cover of the main theme that plays over the coda at the end of ep9? I need to inject it into my ears on loop promptly or I'm going to explode
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medicinemane · 2 months
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I'm very tired, I have to do everything around the house myself (as in, I keep having to turn the water off and on to the kitchen sink until I teach myself to install a new faucet, and negative cleaning gets done if I don't do it), and the money is in the hands of the third worst person in the whole family when it comes to money (the worst being my grandpa who is dead, and my grandma who blows all her money on overpriced jackets and other junk)
I'm very tired, I have to teach myself how to do everything, and I have almost literally no support in any way shape or form ever
I can't remember the last time anyone said they were proud of me... I don't actually know if anyone's ever used that word with me before. When I do something like get the trailer cleaned out or buy a house, frankly no one gives a fuck, except my grandma who gets mad
I haven't actually had a chance to see anyone that counts as a friend in like 15 years, and I mean even in high school everyone liked me but no one could be bothered to actually ever even talk outside school... so even back then it's not like I had anyone I was close with
I'm providing this version where I totally remove how I feel or how I view myself from the description and instead try to provide something close to an objective description of things
So if you wonder why I say what I say about myself, honestly I think it's pretty much all summed up here
#mm tag so i can find things later#also this is why you can maybe piss off instead of coming around here and saying I should get off the internet and go to therapy#in spite of how morose I am; I'm actively working to fix this stuff by... at least learning more of the skills I need#like... learn to replace a faucet; then at least I don't have the sink issue weighing me down#and maybe if I fix enough of it someday things'll be ok#although... in my mind no matter what I do I'll still be alone and unlovable; but that's just a description of how I view things#regardless of how I may feel; I am trying to do stuff to fix how I feel by trying to fix my situation#so like... if you're gonna come here and tell me I need to fix my mental health#may I respectfully say either you can lend me a hand or maybe you should mind your own business#cause what the fuck do you think I'm trying to do?#not that anyone will read this or particularly care#not trying to be rude or something; just extrapolating past data to make a prediction#it's not that people here don't care or don't like me; it's just we're all busy with our own lives and no one really knows what to do#well I'm... I'm trying to write you a guide; I'm asking for help here#...to an extent it's totally fine if no one helps... but you kinda don't get to go around acting like you love being asked for help#I mean... you do; it's your life... but I'm just saying... this is me asking for help... yet again#but I expect nothing because that's what usually happens#I really don't mean to... to imply anything about anyone else; it's just descriptively I don't get help and I don't get support#and... based on all the information I have my model for the outcome of this says no one will even notice it#that tag of mine of things I can find later or whatever... it has me outright saying a number of things#...no one ever hears or listens#anyway; there it is... another pointless cry for help#...don't say I didn't warn you when I wind up killing myself one day#probably not anytime soon; maybe not ever... all I'm saying is don't pretend you didn't see it coming or like I didn't reach out#at least... as best I could... maybe I could have done better#like sure; could I walk up to specific people and say 'I need you to do this'; sure...#but I find... I find people just ignore it if I say that too#so I've given up; you know?#this is the best I can muster#don't say I didn't tell you
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jamminvroomvroom · 6 months
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second time around.
ln x fem!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
in which he’s quite desperate to have a second kid.
staying in my active era! there is honestly no excuse for this one, i just simply couldn’t help myself. it’s porn, yes, there is plot, but it’s just. porn.
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! where do i even begin? smut, more smut, breeding kink (kinda the whole point), choking, overstimulation, general sex acts, public sex, car sex, shower sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of the kid they already have, lando being a little shit, sex somewhere unhinged in the mtc, a brief moment of angst, dom!lando, rough sex? yeah.
3.9k words
take: 1
the season is coming to an end.
somewhere between italy and singapore lando decides he wants another kid.
it’s a warm day in the middle of september when he proposes the idea to you. you’re watching your daughter toddle around the garden, soaking up the last remnants of sunlight before the darkness of autumn encapsulates the warm beams until march.
she giggles, pushing her toys around in the grass. you let her play, lost in her own little world of wonder. lando turns to you, scanning your side profile, watching you watch the little girl. he’s awestruck, enamoured totally by the family he’s created, by the woman he loves. he doesn’t think, he just opens his mouth and let’s loose his big idea.
“want another one?” he cooes, sliding closer across the bench, until he’s nosing at your cheek. kisses are pressed to your puffy face. it’s still early.
at first you think he’s offering you another coffee, so you hold out your almost empty mug to him. you’d been nursing the drink, letting it go cold in the naturally cooler air. he laughs at you, and that’s when you clock what he’s actually asking.
you turn to him, facing each other now. lando looks excited. you wonder if you can find a way to mirror his expression.
“lando…” you start. his face drops at your tone, letting him down easy. “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just-“
“i’ll be home more. i’ve worked it all out. if we get to work now, baby will be here around the summer break.”
you mull over his words.
your first baby was a shock to you both, and you didn’t fancy doing that again. you loved lando with every fibre of your being, just as you did your daughter, but being away from him so much in the lead up to her arrival shot every one of your nerves to pieces.
but another baby would be on the agenda eventually - you both desperately wanted to add to your beautiful family - and you supposed that if he’d done the math…
“by get to work now, you mean…?” you cock an eyebrow at him. he lights up like the christmas tree you’d be putting up in a few months.
“she’s going down for her nap soon.” lando smirks, voice edged with that excitement once again.
-
his head is between your legs mere moments after he shuts your bedroom door.
you’d been waiting for him, stripped bare in anticipation. your baby girl would be down for a good few hours, more than enough time for him to draw out everything you had to offer and fill you back up.
his tongue runs over your flesh; he’s messy with it. you’re choking out whimpers as he licks and laps and tugs with his teeth. your pussy clenches around nothing and he notices, sliding his fingers all over where you ache. they’re quickly wet enough to slide inside of you, and he grinds them deep, luring traces of an orgasm into the pit of your belly. it’s familiar, the way he winds you up, and you want him like this every minute of the day.
“getting you ready, honey. gonna get you so fucking ready.” lando is slurring words into your cunt, letting them get lost to your sodden folds. you hear every word perfectly. they make you shake and shake until you’re undone.
when he looks up at you, his mouth is glistening. his fingers are, too. he hates wasting a drop of you, so he laps up the mess you’ve made while he shuffles up the bed. when he’s finally hovering over you, he’s desperate, but you’re worse. you could cry from the urge.
something carnal is taking place; he’s staring into your soul, finishing up the remnants of your taste, and you’re begging with your eyes, hands slinking all over your own body. you must be dripping by now. your body is restless and you raise your hips, inviting him close, deep.
when he thrusts into you, he’s pinning you down into your shared mattress. you’re completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it. you love it more. you go slack underneath him, and he starts a slow grind. he’s not thrusting, not yet, he’s just rolling into you, deeper, deeper, deeper. you feel the first tears threatening to fall. he feels so good, it’s unbearable.
he nudges at your most sensitive spot, over and over and over. you whine carnally and he swallows it, licking into your mouth. his curls tickle your forehead, you’re pressed so close together. he sees the pools in your eyes and then he looses it completely.
hand on your neck for leverage, he starts thrusting, harder and harder, faster than you can ever recall. he knows you can take it, knows how bad you want it, and that thought alone spurs him on. you have the same goals, the same shared instincts. you feel nothing but pure fucking bliss everywhere.
“you want me to fill you up? you want my baby, honey? want me buried nice and deep?” you hear him grunt, but he sounds so far away.
you are lost to the void when you come. you can’t even try and resist, not when you can hear how wet you are, not when you can hear the quiet whimpers he tries to fight at the way your pussy convulses around him. you cannot see anything but the stars in his eyes.
you go limp and he spills, fucking it even further into you. his eyes are trained on where you’re still joined, and where he’s still fucking you. you’d be screaming if not for the hand wrapped around your throat. the most delicious piece of jewellery you own.
lando needs to know he’s gone as deep as he can, that you’ve come as hard as he can make you. he feels unhinged when his fingers find your clit, switching between short spasms of his finger on the nub, and grinding down on it with his palm. you’re both overstimulated, soaked with sweat and other things. you’re gripping his cock so fucking tight that he can’t stop the rush of moans, your name mumbled like a prayer between expletives.
but still, he needs to know it’s deep enough.
an hour later, you can finally move, and you sink deep into the bath.
your head is on his chest, he washes you gently. you wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl.
-
date night
almost a month passes. no sign of baby number two.
it’s fine, you tell yourself. you tell lando, too. all the more reason to keep practicing.
every opportunity he gets to bury himself to the hilt inside of you is a win in both of your books. he grabs every single one of those opportunities with both hands.
you’re dressed up nice for dinner, little black dress hugging you well. you watch the scenery flick past you. lando’s in the drivers seat, making small talk, his left hand heavy on your bare thigh. you’ve just dropped your daughter off with her grandparents, your mother hugging lando tight. he’d been gone a while.
fingers skim higher up your thigh. you want to let him carry on but this car is new, untainted by his adventurous personality and your willingness to comply. your legs snap shut and you watch him smirk out the corner of your eye.
“later.” you whisper.
his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.
“i know. don’t you worry, honey.” he doesn’t sound convincing, no, he sounds like a man with a plan and you dread to think of what he has in store.
the restaurant is tiny. a hole in the wall. it’s intimate, exclusive, slightly extortionate, but lando likes to treat you. you order, and he behaves. you sip wine, and he behaves. you drag your heel up his leg, and still, he behaves. you know something is brewing behind those stormy eyes.
he launches his attack during dessert.
vanilla ice cream hits your tongue when he strikes, leaning back in his chair. his thick neck captures your attention, the dim light accentuating him just right.
“would your prefer we take this to the car or the bathroom? it’s pretty spacious back there, you know.”
lando speaks so casually, and slightly too loudly. your cheeks are aflame.
“lando!” you hiss in warning. you’re sputtering over his boldness, catching some ice cream with your tongue. he watches the way it moves over your lips intently.
“actually, as tempting as the bathroom is, we still need to break in the new car.” lando sounds like he’s talking about the weather, or a shopping list, not the location of your next sexcapade. you swear you see the old lady at the next table over wink at you. “your choice, honey.”
you’re staring daggers at him. he leans in closer, elbows resting on the table and a shit eating grin contorting his pretty face.
“i’ve been gone too long, i need to remember what that pussy feels like.” his voice has dropped an octave but it’s still too loud. you inadvertently grind against the chair. the candle on the table flickers from the force of the shaky breath your expel.
“if you shut up now, you can have me anywhere you want me.” you mumble, bringing your napkin to your lips. the ice cream is melting and you have more important things on your mind.
“i’ll have you anyway, honey. because no matter what happens, we’re gonna go back to the car and you’re gonna crawl into my lap, aren’t you? you’re not gonna be able to help it.” he keeps going and you want the ground to swallow you up. maybe you want to crawl over the table and jump on his lap right here. you fight every natural instinct.
“lando.” you try to scold him again but it comes out breathier, a feeble attempt at shutting him up. it’s hard to be convincing when you want nothing more than for him to bend you over in the middle of this restaurant.
“and after i’ve had you shaking on my lap, i’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’ve been waiting for weeks, poor thing.”
you usher over the waiter, and ask for the bill.
-
he’s got you home in one piece and all the way up to the shower.
you’re still delirious from the car. he’s still dripping out of you.
he pushes you against the shower screen, your cheek resting on the fogged up plastic. the combination of yours and his first orgasm is enough to slick him up and he slides right back inside of you, as if he’d never left.
your head is spinning, car lights and nail prints in leather seats flashing through your mind.
he’d been right in the restaurant. you’d crawled straight into his lap and he’d been waiting, seat pushed back, cock slapping up against his tanned belly. he’d swiped his fingers through your folds, determining that you were wet enough already, and then you’d sunk straight down on him.
at first he’d just watched you lose control, bouncing and grinding and whining on his lap. you were growing tired when he stepped in, pushing you back against the steering wheel, the angle change making your eyes roll back. you came twice with his fingers on your clit and his other hand holding you down so he could grind up into you. he’d released deep into you, all you could do was shudder, collapsing into his chest.
now, he’s taking you again, the hot water cascading over you both. you’re almost limp, caught between the cold screen and his hot, restless body. this it was three weeks apart does to him, and the urge to claim every part of you is at the forefront of his mind.
you’re writhing. there’s no room to move; he’s pressed so tight against you, breathy moans sounding straight into your ear and you want him impossibly closer. you always missed him so much it hurt, but that pain had increased tenfold lately.
you try to roll your hips back into him, needing him deeper, somehow. you’re so wet and tight around him, and your attempt at moving on him has you clamping down on him.
lando whimpers when he lets go, marking you as his.
he washes your hair and you fall asleep together naked.
-
the fear
lando is due back from qatar.
any minute now, he’ll be walking through the door.
he’s taken a podium, so you are expecting somewhat high spirits, despite the slight issue that had been the sprint race.
a podium is a podium, you’d tried to tell him on the phone late on saturday night. you knew that a podium was never just a podium.
you’re cleaning the kitchen up, your sweet daughter tucked up tight in her bed upstairs. a random playlist is sounding from the speakers and you flit around in just his hoodie. it hits mid thigh and it’s keeping you shielded from the biting october air.
you hear keys in the lock somewhere in the distance. you grin stupidly. god, you always fucking miss him. you turn to face the doorway, eagerly anticipating his face, longing for one of his speciality hugs.
instead, a storm enters your kitchen in the form of your boyfriend.
you raise and eyebrow.
“lando?” you question.
your hips are in his hands before he can answer. he’s walking you backwards until the granite of the counter is digging into your lower back.
“turn around.” his voice is gravelly, commanding. you do as you’re told.
the hoodie is bunched around your waist, your panties are tugged to the side. you can hear the rustle of fabric, assuming he’s getting himself ready. two fingers gloss through your folds while he pushes you down, bending you over for him. he’s rubbing circles into your clit and you’re keening into his touch.
“you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” you manage to choke out. he grunts in response.
“just need to get inside you.” is all he replies. well, okay then.
lando rearranges you, hiking one of your knees up so that’s it’s resting on the countertop. your other foot barely touches the floor when he fucks into you, ruthless. you cry out, reaching blindly behind you for him. you graze his hip and he shivers, pushing into you even harder.
he’s frantic, messy with it, thumbing at your clit. there’s hardly any room to move his hand, so he’s grinding the pad of his thumb as best he can. the pressure builds in your belly embarrassingly fast. you love when he gets like this, but you will pry what’s wrong out of him later when he curls up into his chest.
“gonna give you another one. s’all i can think about. fucking you full.” he mutters. your back arches into him.
“please.” you whimper, slurred. it’s all you can think about too.
your plea ushers along his orgasm, and he drops his head against your back. you’re shaking when you finish; he stays buried deep for a moment, silence washing over you.
when he helps you stand up, he kisses you deep. he brushes the hair from your face, says hello properly.
“wanna go see her.” he mumbles.
-
when you finally manage to climb the stairs, you see straight into your daughters room.
lando is stood over her crib, watching her sleep in the lamp lit room. he’s cooing something to her that you can’t make out. your knees are weak at the sight. you want to fill this house with children that look like him and laugh the way he does.
he catches you watching, sending you a wink, a promise that he’ll meet you in bed. when he finally does, drawing back the sheets and dropping into bed beside you, he wraps himself around you instantly.
“talk to me.” you command, toying with his hair in a way that you know turns him into mush in your hands.
“can’t win a race, can’t give you another baby. just- fuck.” he sighs, voice so small. you tear up but you push that aside for now.
“stop, lando. don’t do this to yourself.” you try to sound firm, attentive.
“just- am i good to you? am i good to her?” he needs to hear you say it, that’s the only thing that will talk him down from this spiral. he’s exhausted, and this is often a consequence.
“sometimes i think you hung the stars in the sky.” you hum, kissing his forehead.
gentle snores lull you to sleep.
-
quickie
you go with him to austin.
it seemed logical, after the events of qatar. your daughter has been stolen away by lando’s dad, who is showing her the paddock and introducing her to mechanics. you watch on, momentarily, because then lando is stealing you away.
“haven’t you got fp3 in a minute?” you ask, coy smile on your face. he’s pulling your jeans down and kicking them away.
“this won’t take long.” he smirks.
you crave the upper hand for a change. his race suit is already undone, so you make your move. you tug down his fireproofs, taking his cock in your hands. he’s hard already, glistening for you. he groans, but doesn’t make you stop.
you’re watching him through your eyelashes, his head tipping back in pleasure. you work your hand around him, up and down, applying pressure at the base and around the tip. it’s flushed red, wet in your hand and he looks too pretty to stop. he can have you later, in your hotel room, you think. right now, you’re having him.
lando is panting, thrusting into your hand when he comes for you. you’re soaked through, and he can probably see the damp patch on the panties. his release hits your stomach, painting your flushed skin white. your eyes scan the room for something to clean yourself with, but he beats you to it.
thick fingers swipe through the mess he’s made. your panties are tugged to the side and then he’s fucking you with said fingers. you cannot produce a thought, mouth gaping open in the shape of an ‘o’. the sight before you has you gushing, and he uses that leverage to speed up.
“you think i’m gonna let it go go waste, honey? silly girl. pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters.
your hips are bucking into his hand when he pulls out of you, collecting more of him from your belly, and then he’s thrusting them in again. you tear up from the pleasure coursing through you, white hot. he’s crazy, you think, but he’s so fucking beautiful, teasing glint in his eye as he curls his fingers deeper.
“want it so bad, don’t you? gotta keep you full for me, don’t i?”
you’re sure you can be heard from the garage when your orgasm hits.
-
office party
a burnt orange dress clings to your hips and a curly haired man clings to your hand.
the mtc is lit up for another gala that you and lando have to attend. the season is over and they’ve had a great run, so a toast must be made to celebrate that.
you watch him get passed around the room between sponsors and other important people, proud of what he’s achieved. you hate sharing him, but it’s a necessary evil, so you drink champagne with oscar’s girlfriend, lily, and natalie pinkham.
when lando comes back to you, his PR smile is dropped and that genuine, boyish grin returns that you have so missed in his momentary absence. he introduces you to some people, proudly showing you off, sinking drinks as he does.
it’s nearing 10pm when his actions become questionable. his hand stays on your ass, his words whispered in your ear are filthy and his sly kisses on your neck stop being quite so sly.
you remove him from the main event, just for a moment, just to try and get him to compose himself before you jump him against one of the vintage racing cars. he sees this as an invitation, however, and then everything goes awry.
he’s dragging you into the lift, kissing you against the closed doors. when you stumble out a floor up, you can still hear the function in full swing. he’s pulling you down a hallway and into what you assume is an office. when he has you sat on a desk, you realise where you are.
“is this zak’s office?” your eyes pop out of your head, bewildered.
“maybe.” he shrugs. he’s smirking like a bastard.
“you’re insane.” you shake your head, standing from the desk, but his lips ghost your ear and you’re putty in his hands.
“you’re driving me insane. coming here in this tight fucking dress. can’t stop looking at you, thinking about this.” his hand rubs over your lower belly as he speaks, and then you’re back on the desk.
lando’s on his knees, peeling the silky material over your thighs until your barely there panties are in his face. he mouths over them briefly, and then they’re gone and his tongue is buried to the hilt in your cunt.
it doesn’t take him long to get you off, the alcohol and the thrill of being in the one place you should never have sex pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.
the glass wall of windows is too inviting for lando to pass up, so on shaky legs, you’re pressed up against them, looking out over the pond and the fairy lights when he pushes into you.
he’s kissing over your shoulder, your neck, holding your down on him while he thrusts up into you. you turn your head to kiss him, to let him swallow up your noises that could give you away.
“you’re so fucking good for me, honey. letting me have you here like this just so i can give you a baby.” he slurs against your lips, pussy drunk and ravenous.
he finds your clit, fast fingers making small swipes against it and you want to cry.
“gonna make this time count, yeah, honey? gonna keep it all inside of you until we get home?”
you try to nod, try to say something but you’re choking on air and dripping all over him. a couple more thrusts and you’re the perfect vessel for him to release into, throbbing and hot around his cock.
“beg for it, honey, come on. tell me how much you want it.” lando mumbles right in your ear.
“lando, please. please, please, please.” you whimper. “come for me, baby, need it inside of me.”
you leave the office a lot more composed than when you entered it. well, aside from the remnants of him that are running down your inner thighs.
-
a month later, lando’s laughing. he’s actually laughing, while you cringe, burying your blushing face in his chest.
you’re holding a pregnancy test in your hands, finally a positive one.
when you do the maths, you realise where baby norris was conceived, and you try and make him promise never to tell anyone that it was in his boss’s office.
“it’s a funny story.” he tells you. there are tears in his eyes.
“you’re so lucky i love you.” you roll your eyes. you are also dangerously close to crying.
but truthfully, you’re the lucky one. he carries you to bed that night, claiming that now you had a baby on board, you had to be careful!
you dream of him, that night. the man that hung the stars in the sky.
-
once again, idk what came over me i’m sorry lmfao
-
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removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3
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erwinsvow · 19 days
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little sad bitchy!reader moment: her and rafe are at the country club with topper and kelce and some other friends of rafe and one of the guys starts saying how she would be a horrible wife and mother (bc of the way she is) and she honestly is so hurt by it and i think she would almost try to change the way she is around rafe a little just so he wouldn’t think that about her…
sobbing thinking about it and listening to this (https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLX2Pdcv/)
hi my love this was so amazing and wonderful to write! im sorry its kinda long, hope you like it ♡
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in all honestly, you stopped caring what people said about you a long time ago. you weren't the way you were because it was funny, or to get a reaction out of others. that was just the way you've always been, and there was nothing you hated more than letting people walk all over you and get away it.
that must be why the comebacks would fly out of your mouth before you could stop them, if you even wanted to stop them. why you never stopped to think twice about the people who didn't want to talk to you again or the boys who didn't want a second date.
you weren't easy to handle, not that you wanted to be, but you knew you weren't.
it seemed easy enough for rafe though.
he never seemed to wish that you'd bite your tongue or tell you to act differently, behave a certain way. no, he'd laugh and fire back something, or agree with you and say something you remember to add to your collection of insults.
rafe liked you as you were. that's why he fought so long and hard to get you, something that you didn't take lightly. you were committed, and the more days that went by, you found yourself softening up more and more with him.
rafe knew a side of you that a select few had ever seen, much less engaged with. you liked it this way, having a boyfriend you could be yourself around and be a little soft around.
until you overhear a boy at the club talking about you. in all your years of life, you've never let a boy make you feel upset, and you didn't want to start now. a comeback brews the second he mentions your name—of course it's the idiot one, the one whose parents pay for his grades and doesn't know anything besides losing at pong and scaring away girls—but it dies in your throat when you hear the words that follow.
"i mean i get it, she's hot, but i don't know how cameron puts up with her."
"what're you talking about? she's just like him," kelce says, and you feel briefly grateful for him.
"dude, she's a bitch. i've never heard one nice thing come out of her mouth. totally untamed. you can't bring a girl like that home to your folks, they'd hate her. especially his folks. and don't even mention long-term. imagine coming home after working all day and your girl is bitching at you? i mean, no offense but what kind of kids is she gonna raise?"
you hear laughter, and when your face feels wet, and you're confused for a moment. you look up at the ceiling, wondering if there's a leak, when your eyes flood again and more tears fall down.
crying, and that too over what one of rafe's friends said about you. this isn't like you. frankly, it's pathetic. those idiotic boys don't know the first thing about you or your relationship with rafe—they don't know the conversations you have and all the things you both agree on and the way he laughs when you fire back at him.
but somehow, feet leading you outside and to your car, fingers texting rafe some excuse for why you went home early, you end up letting it affect you.
rafe comes over the next morning—he texted you something but you didn't reply. worried for a moment about something you've never been concerned with before, you think a nicer girl would have texted him back right away, that you should have texted him back.
he doesn't knock, never does. your parents aren't home but he has your spare key, letting himself in and up to your room. he stops at the doorway, leaning against the frame.
"hey. what happened last night?" he asks it like he doesn't know what happened—which is good, you want it to stay that way. the thing you would have said yesterday bubbles up, coming to your lips. maybe if you'd gotten your head out of your ass, you'd see my text.
"wasn't feeling good. came home."
"you feelin' okay now?" he gets closer to you, and you look up at your boyfriend. i'd be fine but that asshole you already hate ruined my mood. will you run him over in your truck?
"better." you stop for a moment, you don't want him to think something's wrong. "how was your night?" he looks at you a little confused.
"it was fine. borin' without you. kelce asked where you went too."
"y'know i always liked kelce," you say, smiling again. you think you can get better at this.
rafe takes you out for lunch, and then you wanted to go shopping in the afternoon and get your nails done. it's a whole day, and you like spending it with him. you swallow down what your mind usually thinks and opt for being nice instead, polite questions and trepid commentary.
the waiter brings you the wrong drink—and though you're not so much of a bitch to hurl insults at teenager servers, you're normally annoyed enough to say something and get your correct drink. instead you sip it quietly, waiting for rafe to start the conversation. when you don't, he looks at you in that confused way again.
"you okay?"
"yeah. fine. you okay?"
if he thinks something's wrong, he doesn't say anything. at the mall, nothing looks how you want and even the things you like don't feel right. you'd let rafe buy you whatever you want, normally giving him a twirl in the dressing room and thanking him very sweetly.
"you want that dress?" rafe asks, his arm resting on a rack while you comb through mindlessly.
"no, it was too short."
"that's never been an issue before." ha-ha. pervert. looking up my skirt aren't you? knew you were desperately horny for me but this is down bad even for you.
"trying to dress better. and it'll be cold soon."
"hey, look at me." rafe uses his hands on your shoulders to turn you from the clothes, facing him. "you okay baby?"
fuck, you know you messed up. he only calls you that when he's being serious—the rest of the time it's princess, angel, sweetheart. all things that you are definitely not.
"i'm okay. i just don't want it. but thank you." you don't know it, but he thinks you're upset with him, spending the next hour in the nail salon racking his mind for the reason why.
your nails are fine, they look pretty enough. shorter than normal with a clean french manicure, you admire them from a distance. you suddenly feel like crying again, wondering why you didn't get the pink acrylics you like, rhinestones and bows and all the other things that were pretty to look at when you flipped people off.
in rafe's passenger seat after, you keep staring at your hands, feeling another tear slip down. rafe's not looking at you, he's looking ahead, still unsure what was going on.
"baby, if i did something you gotta tell me, i don't like seein' you like this-" when he turns his head to glance at you, you're looking back at him with your pouty face and wet cheeks—two things he's never seen before. "hey. what's wrong?"
you couldn't stop the downpour if you tried—tears falling quick and fast. you hate that anyone's seeing you like this, especially rafe.
rafe is nice to you, and you soften up around him. you didn't really realize that he softens up around you too. he wipes your tears away, keeps a hand on yours the whole time.
"can you talk to me? what's goin' on?"
"yesterday.. one of those guys said that i was a bitch-"
"which one? to your face? when? i'll fuckin' kill him-"
"no, he didn't know i was there. it's not that, i know i am. i don't care about that. he said that-" your voice cracks, something else you hate, that you don't want rafe hearing. "sorry. he said you couldn't bring me home. and that you would hate coming home to me-me being all mean. and that our kids would be mean too."
yes, you're mean. but rafe's mean too, and none of your friends have ever said anything like that about him. you like that he's mean, that he's like you—you think he's the closest thing to a soulmate you could ever find.
"don't fuckin' listen to any of them for a second, got it? they don't know anything."
"rafe, i-"
"no, seriously. they yap because i wasn't there to knock him out. and he says it when you're gone 'cause he knows you'd make him cry if you were there." you sniffle, though you already feel better.
"but i didn't. i started crying instead." you hate even thinking about it.
"s'okay, it happens. but don't believe a word of that shit. i wanna come home to you everyday. hear everything you say. i want all of it."
"really?" you ask him, wiping away your tears, appreciating the hand on your thigh and how sincerely he's looking at you. "i thought you'd be mean if i cried in front of you."
"it's hard enough to be mean to you."
"you're such a sap. should we go get ice cream and braid each others hair after this?" he laughs, and you laugh. "thanks rafey."
"no problem, kid."
"don't call me that." rafe groans, and you smile.
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mattyriddlesbitch · 1 month
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hello! I recently got into fanfics again and youre such a talented writer 💗 i was hoping to get theo or/and mattheo w a Hufflepuff reader whose been acting really bratty so they put her in her place 👁👁 i hope its not too much for u n if u dont feel like it thats totally fine too! 🤞
Yes! I didn't specify the house, but I hope this works!
Attitude
Theodore Nott X F!Reader
Warnings: Orgasm denial, unprotect sex, creampie, cussing.
18+ Minors DNI!
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You normally were so sweet. Never really had much of an attitude, or at least, if you did, it never lasted long. However, today, you were moody and short with people, especially to your sweet boyfriend Theodore. He was trying to figure out what you needed all day. Getting you food and sweets, trying to give you affection, trying to give you space, trying to make you laugh. None of it was working. He was losing his patience.
It was just before dinner when you decided to say another snarky thing to him while you were sitting with the boys. He snapped and dragged you over to the bathroom. You thought you were gonna get a lecture about talking to him disrespectfully in front of his friends. Instead, he had you bent over the sink, panties around your ankles while he fucked you from behind.
“You need to drop the attitude, cara mia.” He said, watching your face in the mirror. “I’ve been very patient with you today.”
“Just shut up and fuck me.” You moaned, gripping onto the sink.
Wrong choice of words because he pulled out and turned you around, gripping your waist tightly. “Is that how you talk to me?” His voice was low and stern.
“Can you please just fuck me, Theo.” You whined.
“What did I say about the attitude?” He warned, tilting his head down slightly.
“Drop it.” You said, huffing.
“Exactly.” He said, his tone a little softer. “So, how about we try that again?”
You rolled your eyes and before you could say anything, he grabbed your face with one hand.
“Without the attitude.”
You sighed, letting your body relax. “Can you please fuck me, Theo?”
“Much better.” He said with a small smile.
He lifted you up onto the sink and pulled your panties off your ankles as he stepped between your legs. He teased your entrance before thrusting in, making you both moan.
“Give me attitude again and I’ll stop, you understand?” He asked, taking your chin in his fingers to tilt your head to look up at him.
“Yes.” You nodded.
He started thrusting, holding onto your hips tightly. You held onto the sink as you tried staying still from his thrusts, moaning his name.
“You gotta be quiet. People will hear.” He warned.
You nodded, biting down on your lip to try to quiet your moans.
He smiled at your attempt and moved one hand to rub at your clit, causing your moans to get louder as you threw your head back. You brought a hand to your mouth, covering it to muffle the moans.
“Just needed to get fucked to lose that attitude, huh?” He teased, leaning in to kiss your neck.
You were so close, your pussy clenching around him as you cried out into your hand.
Then he stopped, ripping a whine from your throat.
“What?” You asked, moving your hand from your mouth as you tried moving your hips to get some of that feeling back.
“You didn’t think I’d let you cum that easily with that attitude?” He said with a smile as he leaned back to look at you.
You groaned, leaning your head back. “Please, Theo. I was so close.”
“Next time, I won’t be so nice, principessa.” He said before started to thrust again, rubbing at your clit.
You had to cover your mouth again, moaning loudly, eyes rolling back. Your orgasm was building up again almost as fast as it had left. You came around him with a cry of his name into your hand, trembling as he came too, spilling his cum into you. He pulled out and pulled your 
panties back up onto you.
“Gotta keep that in. Think of that every time you wanna act up again, hm?” He smiled before helping you off the sink.
Taglist:
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Let me know if you wanna be added!
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cozage · 1 year
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Zoro, Sanji, Luffy, Law, and Ace with fem S/O with healing water powers. The catch is that whenever she uses those powers, she feels pain from the wounds she’s healing. And this isn’t a Devil Fruit ability. It’s sorta like water bending from Avatar.
A/N: I really debated on how to lay this one out, but I chose to have them find out about her power. If anyone wants a head canon follow up on how they act now that they know, send me an ask :) I maybe made this a bit too long, but those soft moments with each of these boys are my WEAKNESS. (Law may seem a little OOC but I truly believe that man gets tunnel vision when he sees you in pain)
Characters: F! reader x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace
Cw: blood, pain, injuries, angst, all those fun things. Sanji’s contains slight spoilers for WCI
Total word count: 6.3k
The Pain of Healing
Zoro
Word count: 1.2k
“It’s only five more minutes until my Haki returns.” Luffy says between pants, trying to catch his breath. 
“Then I have five minutes to help you. Sit down.” 
Luffy collapsed onto the ground at your command, and you examined his body as he slept. It didn’t look good. His body was riddled with scrapes, scratches, bruises, and he was bleeding out from his side. Several minor injuries could be more painful than large ones, but Luffy had a mix of both. The best thing to do would be to focus on the large ones first, and if you have energy left, fix the small stuff as well. 
You guided water out of your flask and started with the hole in his side. You were used to the pain that came with healing by now, but it still made you flinch every time you started. You had to grind your teeth together to keep from crying out, not wanting to wake Luffy. He needed rest, and you didn’t want him to see the repercussions of your decision to help heal him anyway. 
After five minutes, you’ve taken all of the major injuries away from his body, and you managed to take a few small ones away from him as well. You wipe the tears from your eyes before you shake him awake. 
“It’s time, Luffy. Wake up.” You put on the biggest fake smile you can muster before his eyes flick open. 
“Aw man, that was the best nap in my entire life! I feel amazing!” You stay seated as he stands up, your body too riddled with pain to move. 
“Go get them, Captain!” It hurts to even speak, but Luffy’s already up stretching, too hyped up to notice your exhaustion.
“Thanks for whatever you did to make me feel so great! Leave the rest to me!” Luffy calls back, bounding off to finish the fight. 
Once he’s out of sight, you fold your head into your hands and weep. The pain was immeasurable, and every time you helped Luffy recover, you don’t understand how he’s still alive. You sit there for a long time, crying until there are no tears left. And then you hear cheers from the village nearby, signifying Luffy has won and your work paid off. Knowing that you helped him win makes you feel a little better, and you need to see everyone again. 
You stand up, ready to go meet the rest of the crew, but your body seems to disagree with your movement. Your legs shake, and when you go to take a step, you can feel your body collapsing, falling to the ground. You brace for the impact of your worn body against the solid ground, too tired to do anything else.
It doesn’t come, though. Someone catches you as you stumble forward. Strong arms wrap around your back and your legs, scooping you up and pressing you into his bare chest. Zoro. 
“Easy.” His expression is stone as he stares at you, but you can see worry underneath. “You gonna tell me what the hell you just did to Luffy?” 
You avert your eyes from his gaze, running the tip of your finger along the scar on his chest. “I healed him.”
You can feel his body tense with your words. “That didn’t look like healing to me. And since when do you have a Devil fruit power anyway?”
You bite your lip nervously. Nobody had caught you healing someone before. It wasn’t something you flaunted, or even something you told people about. “It’s not a devil fruit power.”
“Woman, if you don’t tell me-” he breaks off mid sentence, and you look around for any sign of danger. But there’s nobody around besides the two of you. You risk a glance up at him, and you see his face is pained as he stares down at you with a form of understanding. “You took his pain from him, didn’t you?”
Your mouth falls open from shock. You’re not sure how Zoro was able to guess something so accurate after seeing your power one time. You nod, confirming his suspicions. “He’s got an incredibly high threshold for pain tolerance.” 
“How are you still alive?” Zoro shakes you a little when he asks the question, which causes you to groan in pain. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll be more gentle. Do you want to sit? Stand?”
The thought of being upright makes you dizzy. “Can you just keep holding me for now?”
He nods, and returns to questioning you about your mysterious power instead. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Yeah.” It hurt to talk honestly, but you didn’t want to tell Zoro that. 
“How often have you been doing this?”
“Only like three or four times for Luffy, I think.” You're certain it’s been more than that, but you can’t tell Zoro that right now. 
“Three or four times?? For Luffy?” You can feel him trying to figure out the meaning behind your cryptic words. 
“There’s been a few other people I’ve done it for too.”
“Have you done it for me?” He's scowling at you, like he already knows the answer you’re going to give and he's waiting to scold you for it. 
“Maybe once or twice,” you lie, and you feel your cheeks burning. He squints at you, and you know you’ve been caught in the lie. But he says nothing, he just readjusts you in his arms to hold you closer. 
He had been walking for a few minutes, and you had almost fallen asleep. He had managed to keep you mostly still while he walked through the destroyed city, and you were too tired to care if he was lost or not. “It’s a neat power,” he finally comments. “You gonna tell me more about it? Or do I need to keep asking questions?”
“Can I tell you later?” You mumble into his chest. Between the safety of Zoro’s arms, the warmth of the sun on your face, and the exhaustion that’s set in from all that pain, it's hard for you to stay conscious. 
Zoro doesn’t say anything for a few moments, and you struggle to stay awake while you wait for an answer. He was never one for mindless chit chat, but you could tell that something was on his mind, so you decide to indulge him.
“It’s not a devil fruit. I was born with it,” You start, and you feel a heavy weight lift off your shoulders with those few words.  You’re so relieved that you can finally tell someone about your secret now. “I was never supposed to let anyone see it being used. If the World Government knew…” You trail off, thinking of how the Navy would turn you into a weapon. You shutter at the thought, and continue on in your explanation. 
“The power isn’t perfect, though. I feel the pain of whoever or whatever I heal. It’s not permanent, but if it’s too much for my body to handle at the moment, I might die. I’m really not sure, I’ve never tried to heal a fatal wound before.”
Zoro is looking off into the distance with a faraway look in his eye. “Just like Kuma.”
“Who?”
“Back on Thriller Bark we met a Marine named Kuma,” Zoro begins to explain, and you focus all your energy into listening to him. “He took all of Luffy’s pain and told me if we wanted to save Luffy, I had to take his pain upon myself. It was just after his big battle with the warlord Moria, and the pain…” he trailed off, and you knew he was reliving the moment in his mind. 
“Does he know about your sacrifice?” 
Your question brings him back to reality, and he looks down at you. He chuckles at your question, and bends over to kiss your forehead. “Does he know about yours?”
Sanji
Some light spoilers for WCI arc
Word Count: 1.2k
You didn’t realize that your ability was keeping Sanji up at night. 
Anytime he had a cut, or a burn, or any other kind of injury, you waited for him to doze off before you pulled out some water and healed his hands. The injuries were never serious, and after a few times, you barely noticed the pain. 
You didn’t mind, and you knew how much your boyfriend valued his hands. It was your silent act of love to him, something you wanted to give him but could never tell him about. One morning after you healed a bad burn, you found him sitting up in bed, staring at his hands. 
“Is something wrong, Sanji dear?”
The cook was examining his hands thoroughly, flipping them over again and again. “I could’ve sworn I had a burn here yesterday.”
Your cheeks tinted at the thought of being found out. “Oh, well maybe you just have superhuman healing powers!” You laugh it off, trying your best to act natural. 
“Yeah, maybe…” You could tell something was bothering him, but he didn't say anything further. 
You caught him staring at his hands throughout the day, as if he was waiting for a bomb to explode. At dinner you noticed a particularly bad cut on the topside of his hand - a cut he must’ve gotten while chopping vegetables - and you made a note to heal it that night. 
He stayed awake later than usual that night, and he seemed more wound up with anxiety than normal. You peppered his face with a few kisses, trying to get him to relax some. 
“Sanji, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He sighed, pulling you into his chest and laying down to finally get some sleep. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
He fell asleep quickly with you pressed into him. His slow, even breaths signified he was finally unconscious, and you pulled out some water to cover his wound. It stung you a bit as his flesh stitched back together, and you let out a low hiss in pain, and you froze as Sanji stirred slightly in his sleep. This wound was deeper than his normal cuts and burns; he must’ve been really distracted when he hurt himself. He wasn’t usually so careless around knives, but you knew whatever was bothering him would be revealed when he was ready to talk to you about it.  
With his wound healed and Sanji’s breath returning to normal, you curled back into place against him, and fell deep into sleep.
You woke to a string of curses falling out of Sanji’s mouth, his body tight and tense against yours. 
“Hm? Sanji?” You rub the sleep from your eyes and open them to find him staring at his hands again. “Sanji, what’s wrong?”
“That’s impossible,” he mumbled, speaking mostly to himself. He looks panicked, staring down at the place where his cut was yesterday. “That’s not humanly possible.”
You feign innocence as you have in the past, but you can’t ignore the nervous look in his eyes. “What is it, Ji?”
“I had a cut here yesterday. It was deep.” His breathing quickened, and you could see that he was scared for some reason. “It couldn’t have healed overnight. It’s not…It can’t be…”
“I’m sure it’s just-”
“You don’t understand.” He cuts you off mid-sentence, something he’s never done before, and it takes you aback. He gets out of bed abruptly, his eyes never leaving his hand.
“Sanji?”
“I need to go. I need to get out of here.” He’s pacing the room now, his stress overflowing into the space between you. 
“Go where? Sanji, calm down. Talk to me-”
“I can’t be here! I can’t endanger you! Or anyone else, for that matter!” His face is contorted with such pain you’ve never seen before. You don’t know what’s going on with your boyfriend, but his reaction to such a small cut is starting to scare you.
You jump out of bed and stride over to him. When you reach him, you clasp his face between your hands, forcing his eyes away from his hands and up to your eyes. His eyes are wide with pure fear, and his breathing is rapid and shallow. You can feel his body shaking as you hold him. 
“Sanji.” You push down your own fear and speak to him in a soothing tone, trying to bring him back to you. “Talk to me.”
“I’m a monster, Y/N.” Tears fill his eyes, threatening to spill out as he speaks. “If my body is regenerating like this…I’m a threat to you all.”
“You’re not,” You whisper. “You’re not a monster, Sanji.” You stand on your tiptoes to try and kiss the space between his eyes, but he pulls away from you.
“You don’t know.” He backs away from you, fear returning to his eyes again. “I am a monster. And now that I’m-”
It’s your turn to cut him off now. “I healed you, Sanji.”
His brows furled in confusion, but his eyes looked less panicked now. “Wha..?”
“I have this power,” you explain. You walk back to the bedside table, gathering some water from a cup and suspending it in the air. “I can heal people with water. I’ve been healing your small injuries for a while now. I wanted to make your life easier, I swear. I’m sorry I kept it from you. I just…I wanted to help.”
You see him relax the more you explain your powers, which was not the reaction you were expecting. He watches you move the water through the air, and tears finally flow from his eyes. 
“Y/N-chan,” he sobs, running over to you, embracing you in a hug. He’s holding you tight, smothering you into his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why did you hide it?”
Your face burns against him, embarrassed that you had kept it from him for so long. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone, and I knew you wouldn’t want me hurting myself for you, but-”
“Hang on.” He pulls back from you, peering down at your face with a frown of concern. “You’re being hurt?”
“Just when I heal people,” you rush to explain, seeing his frown deepen. “I just feel the pain of the injuries I’m healing, it’s no big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” he corrects, staring at you disapprovingly. “Promise me you won’t do it anymore.”
“Sanji-”
“Promise, Y/N.”
“No! Let me do this for you!” You’re pouting now, but you know Sanji won’t cave on this matter. You know he can’t let you hurt yourself at his expense. 
“I appreciate that you want to help,” he says sternly. You can hear the love in his voice as he speaks, and you know you’ll have to agree to his request.  “But there are other ways for you to help me without hurting yourself. Please-”
“Fine. Promise.” You give him a fake pout, but when he pulls you back into his chest and holds you tightly, you melt into him. “Are you sure you’re okay, Ji? You seemed scared earlier.”
“I’m fine, really.” He rests his chin on the top of your head, drawing in a long breath before he says more. “I just thought my past was coming back to haunt me again, that’s all.”
You all stand there for a long while, just enjoying eachothers closeness. You only break apart when you hear Luffy screaming for breakfast, and you give him one last kiss on each of his hands before you let him go. 
Luffy
Word Count: 1.1k
“Stay still, idiot.” You held Luffy down, looking at his wound in his foot. 
“I can’t! It hurrrtttssss!” 
“That’s what you get for wearing sandals in the jungle!” You could tell from the way the stick speared through his foot, Luffy wouldn’t be able to walk easily, and you still had another half mile before you made it back to the ship. 
You knew you weren’t supposed to heal people while they were conscious, but this was Luffy. He was the love of your life, and the Strawhats were your only family. If you couldn’t trust them, you deserved to be locked up anyway. 
You sighed, pulling water out of your flask in soft, flowing movements. Luffy was still writhing in pain on the ground, overdramatic in his reaction to his current impalement. It was possible that you might be able to heal him without him even realizing it. 
You surrounded his foot with an orb of water, and imagined the wound being stitched together, just like your mother had taught you. You saw his rubbery skin begin to mend together, and braced yourself for what came next. 
Your grip on Luffy’s ankle tightened when the pain came. It was sharp and fast, and it took the breath out of your lungs. You squeezed your eyes shut, but kept your focus on the wound and the pain that came with it. 
“Wooooahhhh!” You could hear Luffy’s sigh of amazement, and you knew he had caught you healing his wound. “That’s so cool! The hole is just closing up!!”
You didn’t speak, afraid that your voice would betray you. The last thing you wanted Luffy to know was that you were in pain because of the healing process. You could hear him freaking out about how cool it was that his injury was healing before his own eyes, but you did your best to ignore him and focus on the healing process. You kept your eyes closed the entire time, using the level of pain to guide how much longer you had to fix his injury. Finally, the pain dulled, and then disappeared. You dropped his foot and opened your eyes again, trying to ignore the lingering effects that your body was dealing with. 
Luffy was examining his foot closely, looking at it from all angles to see if there was any damage. He stood up, putting all of his weight back on his foot, and jumped up and down a few times. 
“It’s like brand new!” He shouted with glee. He came over to you and wrapped you in a hug. “You’re the best, Y/N!”
--
Over the next few weeks, Luffy offered up your services to others throughout the ship. You knew that Luffy was incapable of keeping secrets, and you had never explicitly asked him to keep that information to himself. You never minded healing your family though, and the injuries were always minor. Luffy sent Ussop to you when he got a burn on his hand, and Franky when he got a bad cut on his face. Chopper sent Zoro when he had a sprained wrist. It wasn’t until Nami came to you with a nasty cut on her shoulder that the secret of your healing was revealed. 
You smiled when she asked, and pulled water out to start the healing process. You coated the wound in a bubble of water, and clenched your jaw to prepare for the worst. 
You were aware of Nami’s eyes watching you. Everyone else watched their own wound magically heal, but her eyes remained on your face, watching for any signs of discomfort on your end. You had a feeling that she was suspicious of your powers already. She had been the most interested member of the crew from the start, asking about the stipulations and origins of your power from the moment she had found out about it. 
You kept your eyes on the gash, trying your best to mentally steel yourself for the pain that would come. You knew it wouldn’t be easy to hide the pain, but you were determined to make it look natural. When the feeling of pain ripped through your shoulder to match her wound, you gritted your teeth and kept your smile, but you could feel your muscles involuntarily twitch. 
If Nami noticed, she said nothing. When you finished, you looked back up at her and let out a shaky breath, smiling. She eyed you suspiciously, but thanked you politely and left you alone. Once the door swung shut, you collapsed back onto the couch you were on, desperately needing a nap after that performance. 
--
Luffy was awoken by a smack on the head. 
“What?” He asked groggily. “Are we at the next island?”
“Are you some kind of sadist,” the tangerine-haired girl scolded, shaking her finger at him. “Or are you just a moron?”
“What are you talking about, Nami?”
Nami rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, staring daggers down at Luffy. “Y/N’s power.”
Luffy rubbed his head, wondering if you could fix headaches. “What about it?”
“She feels pain when she heals people, you idiot. She probably feels whatever pain she’s healing.”
Luffy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that she just healed my shoulder. And she was in some serious pain while she was doing it. She hides it well, but I could tell she was hurting.”
Luffy bit his lip, trying to think back to when you had healed him in the forest. But he had been so amazed at watching his own wound heal, he hadn’t noticed your reaction while you were doing it. 
“She seemed kind of tired after mine, but that’s it. I felt great though, so I carried her back to the ship!”
“So you are just a moron!” Nami punched him again. “No more free healing! Stop taking advantage of her!”
--
You woke up from your nap to rubber arms wrapped around you and Luffy’s round eyes staring at you intensely.
“Good morning,” you groan, trying to pull away from him to stretch. 
He let you go enough to stretch out, but kept a tight grip on you. “Does it hurt?”
You freeze mid-stretch, silently cursing Nami for her hyper awareness. “It just makes me tired.”
“You’re lying.” He knows you so well. You move your fingers up to his hair, twirling his locks around your index finger.
“Yeah,” you sigh the word out. You’re painfully aware of his gaze, transfixed on your face.
 “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because Luffy, it’s not that bad.” Your eyes move back to his finally, and you can see the hurt and confusion that is held within them. “And I like doing what I can to help my family.”
He nods, accepting that answer, and snuggles up into your chest, holding you tightly against him. You let him lay there for a while, twirling his soft strands of hair around in your fingers. There are few quiet moments between you and Luffy, and you cherish every moment you can get like this.
“Nami said no more free healings, by the way.”
You laugh and give his forehead a quick kiss. “Guess I’ll have to charge you double.”
Law
Word Count: 1.2k
“Fuck.”
Law’s breath was ragged as you pressed into his stomach wound. Blood coated your hands as you tried to stop the bleeding, but it didn’t seem to be working very well. 
“I just need to...” Law coughed, and you could see red staining his lips. A small blue orb began to form in his palm, but it flickered out quickly. He was too weak to use his devil fruit powers.
“Fuck.” You repeated. There was only one thing you could do now. It meant exposing your secret and showing your captain your biggest weakness, but you’d do anything to save him. 
You pulled away from his wound, and let your hands guide water from your flask, maneuvering it through the air. “Don’t freak out,” you say, and you cover the wound in water. You let it sit for a moment, and then begin imagining the wound healing. 
It started as a dull, throbbing pain in your stomach. You began to think you were getting used to the pain, but then it began to grow, turning sharp and stabbing. You flinched at the sudden change in pain, but held your focus. 
Law watched you work for a few moments with wide eyes, unsure what was happening or what he could do. You wanted to scream from the pain that was growing rapidly, but you held your tongue, hoping he didn’t notice your facial expressions contorting into pain. Tears filled your eyes, and you finally felt Law move into action, his hand gripping around your wrists. 
“Stop,” he demanded, trying to push your arms away from his wound. You ignore his demand, keeping your arms locked against him, continuing the healing process at your expense. 
“Stop! Y/N-ya, Stop it!” His voice rose in pitch, and you could tell he sensed your pain. His efforts to push you away are getting stronger, proof that his energy is returning to him. You feel relieved in the fact that he is healing, even if it is exhausting you in the process. 
He finally succeeds in pushing you off him, and you fall backwards to the ground and lay there, dazed and stunned from your work. He quickly straddles you and pins your arms to the ground to ensure you’ve fully stopped whatever you had started doing to him. 
“What the hell are you doing?!” Law stares down at you, angry and scared of what you’ve done. 
You know his rage is out of fear, and you give him a small smile, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. “You okay now?”
He stares at you, baffled at your question. He has energy now, and his wound in his stomach is almost completely healed. He knows it’s due to you, but he doesn’t know how you’ve managed to heal him so quickly. Fear. Betrayal. Anger. So many emotions run through him all at once. He has so many questions that he doesn’t know where to start. 
He tightens his grip around your wrists, keeping you pinned down. “Explain.”
“It’s a power I was born with,” you say, closing your heavy eyes. “I can heal other people’s injuries through water.”
Law watches you carefully, certain that you’re hiding something. He squeezes your wrists tighter until you finally open your eyes again, looking anywhere but at him. 
You can’t make eye contact with him or you know you’ll tell him everything. You can’t afford for him to know your secret, it was bad enough that he knew this much. 
“You were in pain.” He says it as a statement, not a question.
You squirm from underneath him, trying to get free, but his grip doesn’t let up. He’s determined to get to the bottom of what you just did. He needs to protect you. He needs to keep you safe from all harm, even if that means protecting you from yourself. 
“Let go.” You say, still trying to get free. His grip is starting to become painful, and you try to pull your arms away from him again. “You’re hurting me, Law. Let go.”
His eyes stare down at you, unmoving from his current position. The more you squirm, the tighter his grip gets, and you know he won’t let go until he has an answer. “Y/n-ya, why were you in pain?”
“It’s a side effect!” You cry out in frustration, finally giving in. You suspect he knew the moment he saw it. “I feel the person’s pain as I heal them.”
In his shock, Law’s hands loosen their grip, and you finally pull free from him. You try to turn away from him, but he’s still sitting on your stomach, and you don’t have enough energy to push him off. You rub at your wrists, trying to get the sting from his grip out of your body.
Law is frozen, staring down at you with wide eyes. He grits his teeth, watching you massage your wrists. “I’m sorry,” he says, reaching for your hands again, more gentle this time. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
You let him grab one of your hands, and he begins massaging your wrists gently, whispering apologies to you. You close your eyes and try to forget that you’ve broken your number one rule about your power: telling other people. You focus on his wrist massage for a while, his own way to apologize for his outburst.
“Y/n-ya?”
“Hm?”
“Why did you save me?”
You sigh, opening your eyes again. This time, you meet his gold eyes, radiant against the sunlight. “You never want anyone to save you, Captain.”
“It’s my job as a ca-”
“I saved you because I love you, you idiot.”
You can see Law’s eyes twitch in surprise; his hands freeze against your wrist. 
“You don’t get to decide what sacrifices I make for you,” you continue. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do to save you. That’s my decision. You’ve made many sacrifices for me, some extremely painful ones. Remember the incident at Low Sand Creek?”
Law doesn’t respond, but he slowly starts to massage your wrists again, which you take as a sign to keep talking. 
“I don’t get to criticize your decisions on sacrifice. And you don’t get to criticize mine either. I love you, and I know you love me. Do I want you to risk your life for me? No. But that’s just something I have to live with. And so do you. Okay?”
Your captain says nothing, and you can tell he’s sulking over your lecture. It wasn’t uncommon for you to have to do this with him. Law was one of the smartest people you knew, but relationships weren’t really his strong suit. It resulted in you having to do a lot of explaining and voicing your needs.
“Law, do you understand?” You insist, needing to stand your ground. He had a tendency of not responding when he didn’t agree with something.  
He huffs out an irritated breath. “Okay.”
You scrunch your face at him, shooting him a semi-fake glare. 
“I understand, okay?!”
You twisted your hand to intertwine with his, and grabbed his other hand with your free one so that both of his hands were now holding each of yours. You locked eyes with him, and you could see there was something else there, something that was bothering him. 
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
He was quiet for a moment, as if he were working up the courage to admit whatever he was feeling. His eyes moved away from your gaze and focused on one of his hands instead, still intertwined with yours. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice comes out slightly choked, and you realize that you had forgotten to explain the most important part to him. 
Your cheeks redden, embarrassed at your oversight. His eyes snapped back to yours, and now it was your turn to avoid eye contact.  
“It’s… I was told to never tell anyone about it. Or let someone else see it.”
You can feel him staring at you, his eyes willing you to look at him, but you refuse. He waits patiently, and you know he’s asking you a silent question: Don’t you trust me?
“I trust you, I just…” Neither you or Law had really talked about your past much. You preferred to live for the now, for the future. The past was just too painful to think about. “People died protecting that secret. I didn’t want to add more names to that list.”
Law gave a dark chuckle at your response. “And after all that preaching about not deciding who gets to make sacrifices.”
Now it’s your turn to sulk. “That is not-“
He cuts you off, pulling you up to meet him, and his lips collide with yours. 
He pulls back briefly, basking in your beauty. “No more secrets. Promise?”
“Promise.” 
Ace
Word Count: 1.5k
Ace wasn’t used to being hit, and when someone made contact with him, it hurt. He grimaced as he limped from battle, blood dripping down his leg from the giant puncture wound in his thigh. You had your arm around him, helping him run, but his injury was slowing you both down, and the enemy was closing in quickly.
“Sit,” you commanded. “Let me help.”
“I just need to get back to Marco, he can help.” His breathing was labored, and you knew he was expending too much energy just speaking to you. 
“I can heal too.” You helped him sit down, and you could feel his eyes staring at you, trying to understand your cryptic words. You chose to ignore him for now, and examined the wound. It was deep, but manageable. You braced yourself, and summoned some water out of your flask, covered his wound, and focused on stitching it back together. 
Pain ripped through you, and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself focused. It wasn’t the worst pain you had felt, but the wound was deeper than you had initially thought, and you could feel your muscles tearing apart, just like Ace’s had when he was cut. You knew that it was just a phantom pain, no actual bodily harm was being done to you, but it was still pain nonetheless. 
You could feel tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, but you refused to stop until the job was done. You watched his muscle stitch back together, and when it was finally completely healed, you sat back and closed your eyes, exhausted and riddled with aches. 
When you opened your eyes again, you could see Ace in front of you, you could feel him shaking you violently. He was screaming something, but you couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying over the loud ringing in your ears. Slowly, your hearing returned, and you realized he was screaming your name. 
“Ace.” Your words were slow. You were still trying to come out of the fog of pain that always came with healing. “Stop shaking me.”
He finally stopped, but his hands were still tightly gripping your shoulders. He was staring at you in terror, fear spread across his face. 
“What were you doing?” His voice was loud and piercing, causing you to flinch. “How did you…What do…Where did…” He struggled to find the right words, and you stared at him with still-glazed eyes while he tried to form a sentence. You were struggling to refocus after the pain, and were thankful that Ace was tongue-tied for the moment. 
Ace took a breath, finally able to form a sentence. “I didn’t know you had a devil fruit power.”
“I don’t.” Normally you let people believe whatever they wanted in order to guard your secret, but this was Ace. If you couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. “It’s just an ability I was born with. I can heal people with water.”
Ace’s facial expressions had always been easy to read. Even in your dazed state, you watched as his concern turned to shock and then to confusion. You waited for the inevitable question to come, and it did. “If you’ve had this power, why haven’t you used it more often?” 
“I…” you hesitate. You didn’t want to tell him the weakness of your ability. Not because you didn’t trust him, but because you did. You knew that if Ace discovered the trade off of your powers, he would never want you to suffer for him or anyone else. 
You had told Marco about your power when you joined the crew, and the doctor had forbid you using your ability except in dire circumstances. Marco trusted you to make judgment calls on what you could handle, but you didn’t think Ace would feel the same way. 
You could hear the enemy's battle cries getting closer, and you take the opportunity to avoid the question. “Let’s go. We need to get back to the ship.”
Ace stands, and you follow to do the same. You take a bit longer to get to your feet, still light-headed from the trade off of healing Ace. His attention has shifted to the enemy pursuing you now, and thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice your sluggish movements. 
Ace’s fist becomes engulfed with flames, and he stands between the enemy and you. “Go back to the ship, I’ll hold them off.” 
“Idiot! That’s what got us here in the first place!” 
“Yeah,” He smirked back at you like the devilish fiend you knew he was. “But this time I won’t lose.”
You can feel your knees start to go weak, but you’re not sure if it’s from exhaustion or from the man in front of you. You hate to leave him, but you know you’ll only be a liability in this fight. With Ace’s energy replenished and the ability to fight in an open space, he’d finish off the enemy easily now. 
“You better not die.” Your words hang in the air, and you take off towards the Moby Dick. 
As soon as you got aboard the ship, you went straight to your room. You didn’t bother giving a report. Ace would do that when he returned. Sleep was what you needed now. 
You woke with arms wrapped around you tightly, and the warm body of Portgas D. Ace pressed against your back. You weren’t sure how long you had slept, but there was no longer any light coming in through the porthole in your room. You shifted, trying to get out of Ace’s grasp without waking up, but his strong arms tightened against you when you moved, keeping you close to him. 
For a long while you laid in the silence, unsure if Ace was asleep or awake. He wasn’t snoring like he normally did when he was asleep and he refused to let you move away from his grasp, but his breaths were even and he didn’t speak to you. You didn’t mind the quiet, your body was still exhausted from the fighting and the pain of healing today, and Ace’s warmth was almost therapeutic against your tired body.
“Your healing…” Ace's voice finally breaks the silence, making you tense from surprise. His voice was low and quiet in your ear. “It hurts you, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
You can hear the sadness in his voice, and you know that he’s figured it out. Whether he solved it on his own or if Marco told him, it didn’t matter now. You’ve always been a bad liar, and you could never bring yourself to lie to Ace anyway.
He squeezed you tighter, pulling you closer to him. There was another long pause, and you let him hold you while he processed everything. 
“How bad is it?” His voice is level, but you can hear it beginning to grow thick with tears. 
“It depends on what I heal. I just feel the pain of the injury.”
His forehead presses into the crook of your neck, and his breath becomes shallow and ragged. You can feel his emotions coursing through him, and all you want to do is comfort him. You squirm, trying to flip over so you see his face while you talk, but his iron tight grip refuses to let you move. 
“Ace,” you speak gently, your hands pulling at his arms, and his grip loosens just enough for you to turn over onto your other side. You’re laying face to face with him now, but his eyes are squeezed shut. His freckled cheeks are wet with tears, and your heart constricts seeing his sadness. 
You press your forehead against his, and use your free hand to brush some of his hair away from his face. You continue softly sweeping your fingers through his hair, soothing him as you speak. “It’s not so bad, Ace. But that's why I don’t use it very often.”
His eyes are still closed, but you feel his hands ball into fists against your back, gathering the fabric of your shirt in them.
“Why did you use it to save me then?” His voice comes out more of a demand than a question. It’s harsh, and you know he’s angry. Maybe at you, maybe at himself, probably both. His question makes you freeze, your fingers still entangled in his strands of hair. 
You feel a slight prick of irritation at his question. You pull your head back and tilt his face up to look you in the eyes, but they’re still tightly shut. “Look at me,” you demand, your tone matching his from a moment ago. You feel him stiffen slightly at the intensity of your words, but his dark eyes open to meet your own. 
Your hands find his cheeks, cupping his face, and you press your forehead back into his. Your eyes never leave his, and you can feel his grip against your back finally start to soften as he focuses on you instead of what you’ve done. 
“I did it.” You pause for a moment, still staring at him. God, he was so stupid. You swipe your thumb across his freckles, wiping the tears from his sad, sweet eyes. “Because you deserve to be saved.”
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mommypieck · 8 months
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𑄽୧ anal with armin𔓘 ᰍ
kinktober day 3: dirty slut!!!
✯⁠ armin arlert x reader
✯⁠ warnings: a bit of manipulation, oral (f receiving), anal fingering, p in ass, cum in ass
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"You're such a good girl, let's try it," Armin coos at you, his hand caressing your stomach.
You're already mostly naked, only your panties are still on and he can surely see the wet spot on them.
"I don't know." you say, turning to cuddle into his chest. He chuckles at your reaction, shuffling in between your legs. He kisses your pussy through your panties, massaging your clit. You whine, grabbing Armin's hair to push him deeper.
"Oh, no, no, no, " he says, climbing over to kiss you on the lips, "Say yes, and you can have everything."
Armin and Eren have been discussing their sex life lately, and Eren gave Armin a dirty idea. Maybe he should try fucking your ass. You and Armin were all about vanilla, and that conversation totally spoiled Armin's brain. He's been trying to get you into anal for weeks, but you've always declined his offer.
"Armin, you bully." you cry out, making him laugh. You want him to touch you so bad but don't want to give him what he wants.
"Yes, yes, yes," you whine, and Armin gets between your legs again.
"That's what I wanted to hear."
His tongue finally touches your soaked pussy, sucking your juices into his mouth. He flicks his tongue on your clit. Armin kisses right on your clit before lowering his head down.
"Not there Armin," you yell out, but Armin doesn't listen. You almost jump out of your skin when his tongue touches your other hole. He licks around it a few times before sticking his tongue inside. Your hands over your face, you've never felt this embarrassed.
You yelp as his finger brushes against your rim, carefully pressing inside. he manages to stuff one knuckle before you whine in protest.
"Shhh, it's gonna be better soon." he pushes his finger out, grabbing a lube bottle from the drawer. He coats his fingers with it, putting some of it around your whole. His finger pushes again, this time with no problem. The sting is still there, but at least, it's not that bad. Another finger soon joins the first one, and the stretch aches more.
You feel dirty having Armin touching you in places like that, but you trust him. The stretch is weird at first, but your pussy says otherwise. You clamp your eyes shut, the leaking of your pussy is so embarrassing. Armin smirks when he feels your wetness soak his hand.
"Can you take another one?" he asks, making you nod. A third finger brushes past your entrance, and your breathing becomes labored. It's too much - the stretch and the pleasure but you want to keep going.
"Put it in." you moan, your head falling against the pillows. Armin chuckles, petting your face. The tip of his cock finally touches your rim, and he thrusts against it, moaning. He presses his cock harder, his head slowly popping through your opening. You can't help but hiss, the stretch is so uncomfortable, even with the lube. You breathe deeply, telling Armin to go deeper. You take half of his cock in before you stop him. He's big, too big for your hole. Armin can't take it, your ass is so tight, and your muscles clamp down on him as if they were trying to never let him go.
"Sorry, love," he says, pushing the rest of his size inside you. Your back arches when his whole member sets inside of you. he starts thrusting at a slow pace, dragging his cock along your walls. He's so big, and you shouldn't like it, but it's so good. Every thrust of his touches all the spots you never knew you had in your body. His finger sets on your clit, and he rubs it with the speed of his cock.
"Maybe I should get a toy into your other hole." he jokes, stroking your opening. You moan and whine, you have never felt anything like this before. He thrusts in harder, his eyes widening when he sees juices flying right from your pussy. Armin slows down before he rams his cock in again, another wave of juices leaking.
He moans, finally getting what he wants, but he never thought it would be like this. Your muscles spasm around his cock, letting him know you're close to your release. He plunges two of his fingers inside your pussy, helping you reach your high. You scream as you cum, covering Armin´s lower body in juices. He almost chokes at the tightness of your hole, cumming inside your ass.
You tiredly lay on the bed with Armin still inside you. he pulls out carefully, making you wince.
"Eren told me I should buy the butt plug so we don't soak the bed."
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@mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbathh @jaenniii
@satorustar
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saetoshi · 1 year
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itoshi sae spends most of his free time in your apartment than in his.
it’s gotten to the point you’ve actually given him your spare key.
it’s also gotten to the point you have to write your name all over your snacks to keep sae from eating them.
so, it doesn’t come as a surprise when you come back home to find him sitting in your couch watching a movie. what does surprise you is the object with your name written all over it in his hands.
“why are you eating my chips?”
“you’re back earlier than usual.” he hums before eating another chip.
you walk closer to him. “why are you eating my chips?”
he turns to look at you, “i got hungry.”
“i bought you a bag of chips last time i went shopping,” you cross your arms, “why didn’t you grab that one?”
“i finished it already.” he shrugs. “besides, you went out for groceries a week ago.”
“is there no food in your apartment?” you try to snatch the bag from his hands. he moves it out of your reach.
“why would there be?” he gives you a look, “i practically live here.”
“could you not go out to buy yourself more chips?” you glare at him, crossing your arms.
“i’m tired from practice.” he pouts. “you’re not gonna make someone tired walk all the way to the convenience store, are you?”
“it’s literally a two minute walk from here,” you deadpan.
sae blinks. he reaches out to grab another chip before you smack his hand away.
“stop trying to eat my chips!” you cry.
“i’m hungry!”
“order some food then.” you scoff, “order some for me too while you’re at it.”
he clicks his tongue in annoyance, “so bossy.”
(he still takes out his phone and asks you what you want, though.)
“have you eaten any of the other stuff with my name on it?” you plop down next to him on the couch.
“it’s got your name?” he laughs when you punch his arm.
“i grabbed an apple from your fridge.”
“those don’t have my name on them,” you bite down a smile.
“i know,” he sticks his tongue out at you, “i did grab the chocolate bar you hid behind the orange juice, though.”
he heartily laughs when you gape at him.
“you thief!” you smile, tackling him, “i’m gonna run out of food because of you!”
he smiles at you, “just go grocery shopping more often then.”
you tsk, shaking your head, “it seems you know nothing of the world, my dear sae.”
you snicker when he grabs your face and presses a kiss against your cheek.
“i know more than you.” he pecks your other cheek.
“i’m afraid you don’t.” you shake your head again, clicking your tongue, “i can’t just go out and buy more than necessary because my asshole boyfriend wants more snacks.”
he pinches your cheek, “all the snacks in the kitchen have your name written on them.”
“it’s only fair,” you stick your tongue out at him, “this is my apartment, you’re just freeloading here.”
he scoffs, “rude.”
“not any ruder than you,” you pout.
“maybe i should just move in with you so you can stop calling me a freeloader.”
you hum, “maybe you should.”
“will you buy me snacks if i move in with you?”
you poke his cheek with a grin, “maybe.”
he hums, “good enough.”
you wrap your arms around him, “was this your plan? eating my snacks so i would let you move into my apartment?”
he wraps an arm around you in return, reaching out for a chip with the other one, “totally.”
sae laughs when you slap his hand away. “let me eat them!”
“they’re still mine,” you frown.
“they’re practically mine by extension, seeing how i live here now too.” he rolls his eyes.
you rest your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes. “fine. i suppose i can let you have them as a welcoming gift.”
you smile against his shoulder when you hear the bag of chips crinkle as sae moves it closer to him. your smile widens when his arm tightens around you.
you suppose sacrificing a bag of chips in exchange for having sae move in with you is not a bad deal, after all.
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touyasdoll · 9 months
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Vulnerability
pairing: ex!Satoru Gojo x fem!reader
word count: 1.1k
warnings: mildly angsty bc y'all broke up before, rough sex kinda, sex with feelings, y’all broke up and he’s back (surprise, surprise), unprotected sex, creampie, possessive gojo
notes: once Satoru is in love, he is in wholeheartedly. you are never getting rid of him <3
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“Say it again, baby,” Satoru drawls, drunk in the pleasure that you’re providing as you glide up and down on his impressive length.
“I love you,” you whisper, just like old times as your hands rest on either side of his neck, keeping his ice blue gaze fixed on your face.
A lazy smile spreads across his handsome face as he guides your hips, his long fingers tightening around your flesh.
“I missed that. Missed you,” he whispers back, words that you’d never thought you’d hear. Not from this man.
It’s been months since he walked out that door. Since you told him to get the fuck out of your life and never come back. He was petrified of commitment and that wasn’t a secret to anyone who knew of your relationship well enough.
“I love you,” you say again, earning you a groan from a man beneath you.
“I love you too, gorgeous,” he replies, nearly stopping your steady rhythm, but the feel of his glorious cock keeps you going.
“Say it again,” you echo his words, desperate to hear those words after months of his denying you of the pleasure.
“I love you. I’ve always loved you, baby,” he breathes out. “I fucking mean it too,” he growls quietly.
His hands nearly bruise your hips, fingertips pressing into your skin when he starts holding you as tight as he wish he would have before. When he was too proud and too scared to just utter the words that roll off his tongue so easily now.
“I need you. I fucked up and I know it,” he pants, easily flipping the two of you over so that he lumbers over you.
He props himself up on one hand and catches your jaw in the other, using a firm but gentle grip to keep your half lidded eyes fixed on him as he keeps driving into you.
“You’re never gonna get rid of me, baby. I can’t imagine a life without you and I won’t. I won’t fucking do it,” he snarls, the sound a delicious noise reverberating between your two sweat slicked bodies.
“Satoru,” you start, but he cuts you off.
“I mean it. Your pussy feels fucking amazing choking my cock, but that isn’t why I’m saying this,” he promises, never missing a beat as his impressive length pummels your poor, abused pussy.
“Satoru!” You cry, hand wrapping around his wrist, your hand so small in comparison to his.
“That’s it. Keep crying for me. Keep saying my fucking name. You will only ever say my name when you feel this good. Do you understand me?”
You nod, staring up at him, fighting the need to screw your eyes shut and the pressure in the depths of your core threatens to snap and ignite your entire body on fire.
“Good,” he grits out, teeth clenched as he doubles down, railing his rock hard cock into you, rushing you towards your finish.
All you can do is hold the fuck on as he sends you flying, soaring up into the heavens as you howl his name. Only his name. The only one you ever wanted to leave your lips as you enter complete and total, all encompassing bliss.
“Fuck,” he sighs, a shiver rocking his body as every muscle in his imposing form tenses and he breaks with you.
He grunts, his body flexing right as something in him snaps and he continues bullying his dick into your pulsing walls. They hug him so tight he feels like he might black out.
For a moment, he swears he does. His hips cast forward on their own, forcing him impossibly deeper as his tip knocks against the deepest part of you, spilling his seed inside to claim you once and forever as his and his alone.
Both of you are lost in a haze, but nothing has ever been more clear to the man panting in your ear. He needs you. He cannot live without you and he’s only sorry that it took him so long to admit it.
That’s why he showed up at your door tonight. Begging for you to just let him in and hear him out. That’s how you ended up right here, desperately trying to suck air into your lungs while your nerves scream and sing in response to every little touch that he offers your overstimulated form.
“I love you,” he reaffirms, the words a soft whisper against your collarbone as he trails his lips across them.
“I love you too,” you whisper, still in disbelief that you’re able to add the little ‘too’ on the end of that sentence.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I couldn’t say it before, but I’ve always felt it. I’ve always needed you,” he swears, collapsing beside you to bundle you into his arms.
His gentle lips pepper kisses across your scalp, your forehead, and your temple, slowly trialing across your face.
“I missed you. I mean that too, baby,” he says with more conviction than you’ve ever heard leave his lips, his voice shaking with emotion. “I will never leave you doubting that again. I swear. I fucking swear it.”
You’ve never seen him like this. Never heard his voice with anything other than pure, radiating confidence imbued within it. Now, his voice quakes. His tone is full of tremors and uncertainty, something that is foreign to the one who has always known himself as the strongest. Weakness had no place in his words.
But with you, he is weak and he knows it. He has always known it and just never spoken the words aloud, but if it means keeping you. Having you, he will gladly break down those walls to keep you within them. He will build them back up to keep you here with him forever. Where you belong.
“I love you. I was scared and I can say that now. I was too petrified then. Afraid that I’d lose you somehow, but I went and did that anyway and I would do anything not to do that again,” he whispers, his nose nudging against your cheek.
“I’m yours, baby,” you whisper back. “I have always been yours for the taking. I’m not going anywhere.”
Relief washes over him as he holds you tighter, his spindly fingers dragging across your spine.
“I won’t let you,” he vows, holding you close enough that you believe he’s trying to mold you directly into his body. Into his ribs.
Straight into his heart, which you have no doubts that you now know belongs solely to you.
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thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please feel free to leave a like, comment, or reblog and they are all greatly appreciated <3
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bakubunny · 3 months
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uh…hehe i don’t know who else to tell😚
thinking about daddy! toji and his smart lil’ girl who he spent time dumbing down. takes pride in it actually. loves when you babble, loves when you wanna suck and drool on his fingers like a binki. loves when you call him daddy…and dad…and dada. he loves how innocent you look, especially compared to him (all big and scary and totally scares everyone away so no one dares look atcha wrong). but he’s so so so mean….likes to keep you in pretty pastel panties and lay that hefty cock of his over your clothed core. likes to rock back n forth over the warmth, over the wet patches you leave while you cry and beg to be filled up.
“no no angel…much too small for that. i’ll break you.”
he’s a sucker for the way your eyes flutter and that damn pouty lip.
“but i wanna..i want-“ everything just sounds so ‘adult’ to saw right now. maybe you were trying to say ‘be good. i wanna be good for you daddy.’
“my lil doll wants me to break her, that whatcha tryna say?”
you nod.
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okay so um. it’s been what? four days? i still can’t think straight when i reread this. bc i have been putting on daddy toji blinders since day one of my time in the jjk fandom. i was rly trying to avoid it, but we’re going all in now i guess. 😔
because honestly. this screams toji to me. he’s in it for the whole bit, not necessarily because he’s turned on by the same things. sure, you look cute and innocent and he’s very into that (corruption kink), but i feel like more than anything, he loves you all dumb and teary eyed and needy and hhhshsjshhd. starr what have you done to me 😵‍💫 he’ll do anything to get you in that head space, he doesn’t give a fuck if you’re embarrassed. in fact, that’s probably better; you turn into a cute lil ball of mush so much faster when you’re squirming with hot cheeks, no matter what the reason is.
so when he’s rocking into your pretty pastel panties with his massive, heavy cock, listening to your glossy eyed mewls, he’s just shy of heaven. the only thing better is hearing you cry when he gives you what you want and wiping away your tears.
“alright, doll. i’ll give ya my cock. remember you were the one who asked for it when you’re cryin’….”
he spits on his cock and splits you in half without warning, grinning when you cry out, tears quickly spilling down your cheeks as his hips roll into yours again and again.
“daddy wait - ah! too much, s’too much-”
“none a’ that, princess. s’too late now. daddy’s gonna give you what you need.”
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daenysx · 19 days
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using the safeword with aemond targaryen pls !!!!! 🤍
going back to my aemond era because apparently ewan mitchell will not stop bewitching the fandom! if you have any requests for aemond you can send them my way!! ♡
modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, nsfw
aemond presses his hips against yours for countless times. he stays behind you with your knees on bed and one of his hands on your lower back as the other one holds your wrists. he moves again, hits a deeply sweet spot and you make a crying sound.
your face is buried to the pillow with tear stains on your cheeks because everything feels too good. aemond keeps moving, you feel on edge every second like your body is on fire. you are desperate when you push yourself back to him, your legs are close to give up.
"please." you say against the pillow. "aemond, please."
his body is covered with a delicious layer of sweat, his naked torso on display. you can see him if you turn your head enough. he presses on your back as he moves his cock against you, wet noises fill the air. aemond groans, tilts his head back to reveal his pretty neck. if only you could give him a kiss right now. you moan his name again but he doesn't hear.
"so good." he says. "so good, do you hear that?"
the praise sends a warmth to your stomach, your legs are shaking but he keeps you still. you can feel a teardrop falling on the fabric of the pillow. your brain goes numb, there's only him and his sounds, his scent and his praises. "yes- yes, such a good girl. push yourself against me one more time."
you try to do as he says, it doesn't feel like you succeed though. "aemond-"
"one more- give me one more."
"yes, you can." he says, breathless. "my good girl never disappoints me, does she? of course you can."
"i can't." you whine, a sound mixed with moaning.
you feel your breath getting stuck in your throat and suddenly your legs give up. you can sense a liquid dripping down your thighs but it doesn't feel like a relief. the words get caught on your mouth, you panic as you try to hold aemond's hand. "red- red."
everything stops. you don't even realize it's because of the word you say. you can't even look at aemond, a spark of embarrassment flashes on your cheeks, your heartbeat goes insane. he leans in slowly, still deep inside you. he's careful as he fixes your hair on one side to see your face.
"it's okay." he says, gently. "i'm gonna pull out now, okay?"
you manage to give him a nod and a whimper when he pulls himself back. it's the feeling of emptiness you hate the most, he's still hard and he carefully leaves the bed to wear his boxers.
you tear up again, can't help yourself. it's a rush of emotions, you don't know how to deal with them all. you feel desperate, just laying on bed naked and speechless.
aemond comes to your side, sitting on bed. he puts a slow hand on your cheek to dry your tears. he has an understanding look on his face, his hair messed up and skin sweaty from sex. you can see the outline of his cock from the thin fabric, he doesn't wear anything else.
"i'm-" you start, your voice sounds scratchy. "i'm sorry, i just-"
"don't finish that sentence." he says, his thumb rubbing your cheek. "you did the right thing."
you force yourself to turn on bed, facing him properly. you are naked too, and a bit cold but it's okay. "i didn't want to disappoint you." you say with a low voice.
"you could never disappoint me." he says, even softer this time. "i'm so proud of you."
"you are?"
"of course i am, sweetheart." he leans in to kiss your forehead. "you did the right thing. if one of us doesn't feel good there's no point of having sex."
"i was feeling good." you say, holding his hand like an anchor. "it was a bit much and- it didn't feel right."
"it's okay." he says. "it's totally okay."
you try to sit, aemond helps you. he pulls you to his lap to give you the cuddles you want, his long arms holding your body still. you press your nose against his neck, feeling calm as he rubs your back and squeezes your body in his arms. the pressure makes you feel safe, it's not like the one you felt moments ago when he was on top of you. this time you sit on his lap, you have the control. aemond kisses the side of your head, keeps repeating that everything's fine.
"let's clean you up." he says. "i'll fill the tub, is that okay?"
he is panicked too, you realize, afraid he hurt you. he manages to fix the situation for both of you, though, offering any comfort he can provide.
"yes, but-" you say, holding him and keeping him closer than he already is. "you'll get in with me, right?"
he kisses your forehead. "i will."
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tearsofcalamity · 25 days
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Irl electrical engineer/hobbyist roboticist here who is also down bad for the cyborg cowboy- The level of intimacy of mechanic!reader fixing his internal wiring is OFF THE CHARTS, like, reader having to gently untangle and toy with his wiring while arranging them properly?? All the testing of the sensors that it would take to make him be able to feel again? Reader might as well have to touch every inch of Boothill to make sure that his body is functioning properly. They would quite literally know him inside and out and that makes me FERAL
omfg we got a verifiable ENGINEER here?? everyone GET DOWN
no but fr thank you for this insight this means the world to me . you dont get it . even like non n/sfw wise thats so. LIKE THE LEVEL OF TRUST HE WOULD HAVE TO HAVE IN YOU TO GET IN THERE AND DO ALL THAT? THE LEVEL OF COMPLEXITY AND THE WAY HE'D HAVE TO BE FULLY VULNERABLE?
back to horny thoughts that also sets me off w boothill being so vulnerable when what we've seen from him so far is like cocky, devil-may-care attitude and probably puts that up as a facade (esp after seeing his lightcone poor guy) but him just lightly shaking and you can HEAR how loud he's whirring when you get inside (ha) and really work through his wiring. imagine he overheats and you're like WTF
the testing. The Testing. listen here. that's what really gets me. I can imagine him getting antsy even when you're just starting with his shoulders or his arms, but you move to his neck... his chest... a little lower and he's asking if you really need to touch his artificial dick just to test it out. it's like no, he could totally check himself, but am I gonna tell him that uhhh NO I'm gonna be all "nope absolutely necessary to check. something could go REAL wrong if it's off" make him fistfuck me until his insides are literally letting off steam. I NEED TO HEAR HIM WHIMPER AND SEE HIM CRY!!! sometimes I imagine him purring (like an engine, but hey, if catboys are your thing that too) cause his neck is mechanical too so...........
oh and I'm totally groping on his metal ass and rubbing all over it. im licking it. idc. I'm working doubletime to make his ass extra sensitive idc! I'm a robotfucker!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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luveline · 4 months
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Would u ever write about early days kbd! Steve and reader?? Maybe newly married or finding out about being pregnant for one of their babies?? I just love them so much ♡
kisses before dinner au —mom!reader, 1k
“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom really quickly and then I’m leaving,” you call. 
Steve calls back. “Okay, babe. Avery, say bye to mommy! Can you say bye? How about you, Beth?” 
Avery calls a happy goodbye. Beth babbles unintelligibly. I’ll say goodbye in a second, you think, slinking into the bathroom with a plan in mind. 
You bend down under the sink where you keep things that wouldn’t hurt anybody should they get pulled out; ointment for wet rash, diapers, and the little disposable pregnancy tests for emergencies. 
You and Steve are careful after your lovely first Avery. She’d been a surprise, and you weren’t willing to be blindsided again, but now that you’re actively trying the more expensive pregnancy tests have been taken upstairs and in tens. How many have you taken in the last three or four months? Too many to count, and the latest only last night. 
The test said negative, but you’ve been pregnant twice already. You know what it feels like. You’d woken up this morning and turned to watch Steve still sleeping, and you’d thought about waking him, but you didn’t want to get his hopes up again without knowing for sure. 
You let the test develop on the sink, contemplative, drying your washed hands slowly. You can hear Steve laughing like a kid in the kitchen, Bethie’s infectious baby laughter quick to follow. 
Avery shouts something like, “Stop, dad!” but you’re not sure what they’re fighting about. 
Trying for a baby is fun. It’s stressful, sure, but you enjoy the process (whoops) and there’s something so hopeful about waiting to see when it’ll happen. Steve is doubly excited, his anticipation contagious, and you want another baby so much you’ve started buying baby clothes, a wardrobe full of onesies and you’re stuffing in new socks and footie pyjamas every other day. You’ve even picked out the new wallpaper for the nursery. 
You really, really want another baby. 
The test finishes developing. You stare at it until your eyes cloud with tears. 
Last night, you took a test that didn’t come out with anything. Steve hadn’t baulked. He never does. He’d given you a short kiss and a longer hug, whispered, “It’s okay, we’ll just have to try again,” into your hair. 
You can’t help yourself. You grab the test and sweep out of the bathroom down the hallway to the kitchen. Bethie’s eyes glow when she sees you, her small arms held out to you waiting to be picked up. 
You’re very very sorry, but you throw yourself at Steve instead. 
“Hey!” he laughs, pushing you away. “I’m covered in sugar!” 
You wrap your arms behind his neck, “I don’t care!” 
“What?” he asks, totally perplexed. Then, despite his confusion, Steve hugs you tight and lets out a contented sigh. “Why are we so happy?” 
You make some space between you again to show him the test. His hand comes up under yours slowly, bigger, often gentler, cupping your fingers as he bends down to see it. “Oh,” he says. He falls quiet for a few seconds. 
When he looks up, he’s smiling. “Honey!” His smile abruptly catches, tears filling his eyes. “Oh my god.” 
“No, don’t,” you say, your voice wobbling. 
Steve tries to pick you up and spin you around, but there’s no room and you’re too heavy, too sure-footed, arms around his neck and kissing up his cheek. “You’re acting like I’m the one pregnant!” he says, fighting to kiss your cheek instead. “I’m so happy,” —he kisses you— “I could die,” —his lips press rough to the highest point of your cheek— “I could cry!” 
“You are crying,” you laugh wetly. 
Tears rush down his cheeks. “Three is so many.” 
“What? Don’t say that.” You wince as Bethie starts crying. “She thinks that too.” 
Steve picks Bethie up from her high chair and Avery in all her little Steve-ness gives you a brown eyed, doe-wide smile, pointing at your face. “Sad,” she says. “You’m crying, mom.” 
“I’m not–“ You wipe your cheeks with the backs of your hands. “I’m not sad, babe, I’m happy! Mommy’s so happy! It’s making me cry because I’m super happy, I’m not sad.” You smile at her sweetly. “Do I look sad, my love?” 
“Up, mommy,” she says, lifting her hands. You pick her up and laugh another round of tears down your cheeks as she starts to wipe them away. “Happy.” 
“Extremely happy,” Steve says. 
“Dad, you–” She looks between you both with a cartoonish frown. “Dad cry too?
“We are both so happy,” you say. 
Avery mumbles some strange garble of words in her high voice, and then asks more clearly for her buppy. Steve starts to open one of her bottles but his tears suddenly escalate, and he can’t see enough to finish pouring in her formula. 
“We’re having another baby,” he says to you. 
You breathe in a much needed breath. “Yeah, H. Another baby.” 
He passes you Beth, forcing you to manage both of the girls in your arms, and gets about halfway down the hall before he whoops loud enough to make you jump. 
“Okay,” he says, jogging back. “Can I call Robin? I’m so fucking excited.” 
You dot kisses against small foreheads. “We can tell, can’t we?” you ask, to Avery’s amusement. 
“Can tell, dad!” she parrots. 
Steve grabs you and pulls the three of you into an ironclad embrace. “I love you,” he says, much quieter now. You honestly don’t need him to tell you, you can feel it in every moment you spend together, but you take the confession greedily. 
“Yeah?” 
“Too much,” he says. He starts kissing you again, an overflowing heap of them, until the girls are too jealous to speak and you’re as late for work as you’ve ever been. 
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hitomisuzuya · 11 months
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Vision play with Electro. Comfort smut. Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Cunilligus. Fingering. Fingersucking. Degradation. Smutty appreciation for Scaramouche's fingers and his undoubtedly god tier tongue.
a/n: Just a few more weeks to go until July is over. I plan on writing something for Childe's birthday on the 20th.
Scaramouche may not always be the best as processing his own emotions, but he was completely in tune with yours. He knew when you were stressed. So he liked to take care of you in the way that you took care of him.
He didn't need to breathe, and he more than took full advantage of that. Spending hours between your thighs, licking and sucking on your cunt like a starved dog, relentlessly making you squirt on his tongue and fingers over and over again.
Scaramouche teased and swirled the tip of his tongue on your clit. "Scara, please lick me," You whimpered, squirming on the bed, your clit throbbing against his tongue. You reached down, spreading your dripping folds for him.
Smirking up at you, he batted your hand away. "So eager, what a fucking slut," He flicked kitten licks on your clit. "I love seeing you squirm for me, now I want to hear you moan."
Scaramouche had this unique ability of imbuing Electro onto his tongue, keening a high pitched moan from your throat when you felt Electro hum against your clit.
He groaned in bliss when you pressed his face on your cunt, holding it against his mouth when you bucked your hips up seeking more friction from his tongue. Pushing your hips back down on the bed, he latched his lips onto your clit to suck on it, pushing two fingers inside of you.
You cried out when he hooked his fingers on your sweet spot, sending soft shocks of Electro against it. "Scara, I am gonna-" He cut you off with a harsh suck on your clit.
"You are going to what, squirt all over my fingers like a total whore?" Scaramouche taunted, swirling his tongue, sending stronger bolts of Electro on your clit. He always enjoyed watching your cheeks flush from his degradation. "You'll pass out before you stop cumming for me, slut."
He mercilessly teased his fingers on sweet spot, making you squirt on his fingers. His tongue laved at your clit, soaking in every sob of pleasure while you bucked your hips up.
"Clean your mess," Sitting up, Scaramouche pulled his fingers out of you, and pushed them into your mouth. Mewling happily, you flicked your tongue against his knuckles, opening your mouth eagerly for him. You nuzzled your cheek against his wrist, sucking on his fingers.
He pumped them in and out of your mouth, making you choke on them. Pressing down on your tongue, he inserted a third finger when you coughed. You moaned around his fingers when he started rubbing your clit, pinching and rolling it between the pads of his fingers.
Drool pooled from the corners of your mouth, your body twitching in pleasure as you writhed on the bed. "Cum again for me, whore. Your body is begging for it," Scaramouche pulled his fingers out of your mouth, returning his tongue onto your cunt.
"More, please more," You babbled, crying out when he abruptly shocked your sweet spot with his fingers. He sucked wetly on your clit, coaxing you to cum screaming on his fingers.
Licking down your cunt, he pushed his tongue inside of you, swirling his tongue between your walls to help you chase your high. He drank in your fucked out expression, vibrating a purr of approval on your clit.
Crawling up your body, Scaramouche kissed you, making you taste him on his mouth, grinding his throbbing cock between your legs. "I'm going to fuck you dumber on my cock now. Take all of it like a good girl, and cry louder for me."
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crappymixtape · 3 months
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because of you • part three
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PART I • PART II • PART IV • PART V // REQUEST -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 3.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )
B E C A U S E O F Y O U •  P A R T T H R E E 🎶 thick skull ( re: julien baker ), paramore ft. julien baker
❝ GOOD GIRLS DON’T CRY & GOOD GIRLS DON’T LIE & GOOD GIRLS JUSTIFY BUT I DON’T ❞
“Think she’s okay?”
“Shh!”
“What? No way she can hear us back here.”
“Dustin, ‘back here’ is literally a seat behind her.”
Sat quietly at a table seat in the Winnebago, Eddie looking on worriedly across from you, you were still grappling with the fact that you were alive. That you didn’t die. That you were breathing fresh air and free from the dark and free from Him.
For now.
And as the RV bumped down the road out of Hawkins you said nothing. Felt Steve’s eyes on you constantly as he glanced at you in the rearview. Eddie’s hand still holding tight to yours after he helped you up, afraid to lose you again. Dustin and Lucas and Max all talking in not-so-hushed voices behind you about what it all meant and if El could get back in time and was this all gonna be enough?
Voice thick and choked by the sobs that had felt endless, you’d managed to tell everyone what Vecna had showed you. Told them about Hawkins, about the monsters, about your family, about them. Eddie, Robin, Nancy Steve. And no one had said anything at first. The sounds of your cries filling up the RV. Stark against the silence and heavy with the weight of your words and they knew before you’d even opened your mouth that it was going to be bad.
Of course they knew.
But now that Vecna had revealed his master plan, the efforts you were all making just felt hopeless. The munitions stuffed under the bench seats and closets and cabinets, all puny and worthless against Vecna and his army of nightmares.
A big bump in the road brought you out of your thoughts and when you glanced up your eyes met Steve’s as he snuck another look in the rear view. And instead of glaring, instead of flipping him the bird, you looked right back. Held his gaze for moment longer and he didn’t shy away until he came up on a turn-off.
“Alright, shitheads. We’re here.”
“Here?” Lucas asked, more than confused at the thick forest Steve was now driving you all through.
“Yeah, this is it.”
And as the trees slowly thinned out, thick grass and wildflower blooms took their place. Creeping out ahead of you to reveal a meadow, wide and green and lush. A haven that felt so very far away, felt safe, and as Steve parked and the engine quieted you let out the breath you’d been holding.
❝ MAYBE IF YOU JUST GOT SOME GUTS WE’D KILL ‘EM WITH A THOUSAND CUTS AND SAY WE DID IT OUT OF LOVE ❞
Everyone piled out of the RV and got after their tasks. Pretended like preparing for the end of the world was totally normal and routine. Nancy and Robin sawing off the end of a shotgun. Lucas and Erica attempting to make spears from tactical knives and broom handles. Eddie and Dustin shoving each other around in the grass with their garbage can lids full of nails at their feet and none of it instilled you with confidence, but Dustin screaming No wedgies! did manage to pull a little smile out of you.
And for a split second it felt okay.
Laughter, the sound of birds, the feeling of the wind on your bare skin and all the green around you – so unlike the cracked and bitter feeling in the Upside Down and then your smile fell.
You wished He hadn’t shown you.
Wished Vecna had just left you alone. Wished for just a moment that you hadn’t gone to Max’s trailer and put yourself in the middle of all this, but then Eddie grabbed Dustin in a big bear hug and your chest squeezed.
Your best friend.
The reason why you had gone to Max’s trailer.
The reason why you weren’t going to run.
The reason this was all worth it.
“Ah, shit.”
Sat next to you, Steve sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. The funnel in your hands slipping as you lost focus and liquid trickled down your hands and wrists.
“Hold it still,” Steve quickly tipped back his can of kerosene and set it down to grab a piece of ripped towel.
A string of curses were muttered under your breath, so much for homemade molotov cocktails.
Cheeks burning with embarrassment you went to wipe your hands on your sweater, but when you looked back up at Steve he was looking too. Eyes searching yours, unsure and tentative. Moles dotting along his cheeks and jaw like tiny constellations. Skin gold like it held summer and when you blinked away the haze of him, you realized he was reaching out to you.
“Here, get that off so it doesn’t burn,” he said a little softer. Cloth in one hand, he took yours in the other and wiped at the kerosene.
Oh, fell from your lips. Surprised. Unsure. Your skin buzzing where he touched you and you swallowed thick as you felt your pulse flutter against your neck.
“Uh–here, you can get the rest,” Steve said quickly, like he’d felt it too and hastily passed the cloth off to you, dropping your hand to wipe his on his jeans.
“Thanks,” you mumbled back.
It was quiet for a moment as he cleared his throat and picked up his can of kerosene again. You followed suit and grabbed your empty vodka bottle and funnel. Wordlessly he leaned over to hold your hand in his and once it was steady began pouring again, eyes flicking over to look at you.
“I’m an asshole,” he suddenly admitted, breaking the silence, and you had to focus really hard to not fumble the bottle again.
“I didn’t say it,” you started and he chuckled under his breath. A low, warm thing that made the air around you fizzle and crack like bonfires down at the quarry.
“Didn’t say you did,” he gently pushed back, lips still tugged up into a small, wry smile, but it faded the longer he looked at you. “Listen. I know we aren’t…well, I know I don’t have a great track record,” he said and the change in his tone surprised you. Told you he was serious and you had to look away to try to gather yourself back up again.
"No, really?" you said, all sarcasm, and he huffed another laugh.
“Hah hah,” he joked, weakly at first, and then his expression shifted more serious. “I just wanted to say that…well, that you have every right to be here it’s just–” the boy hummed around his words. Dropped his gaze down to where your hands met on the kerosene filled vodka bottle and put the can on the ground.
Talking to you like this, showing weakness and vulnerability, made him feel so exposed. Uncomfortable. Unable to find the right words and his tongue jammed into his cheek as he tried to decide just how honest he wanted to be.
With you.
“It’s just–everything about the Upside Down wants to kill you and it’s like–” he sighed heavy and carded a hand through his already messy hair. “I dunno. How many more people have to die? You know?” and then he was looking at you again. Really looking, really asking, and for a second it made you doubt everything you felt about him.
Jock. Asshole. King Steve.
No second chances, remember?
“Can I ask you something?” you heard yourself say and you could feel the muddled mixture of nerves and frustration and anticipation buzzing under your skin. Everything you’d been holding onto all this time pent up and pushing against the wall you’d built around it. Waiting waiting waiting for you to set it loose.
“Oh–sure, yeah.”
“Why are you really here?”
Steve’s eyes grew wide and he sat back on his milk crate, hands squeezing at the tops of his thighs.
“Why am I here?”
“Yeah. Do you really care about Eddie?”
Steve’s eyes darted back over to where Eddie and Dustin were hammering more nails into their garbage can lids and maybe you were impatient or maybe Steve was stalling, but you didn’t want to wait.
“Cos you didn’t care about him before.”
“B-before? I don’t–what d'you mean–”
Steve was stumbling over himself now, struggling to own the words you put on him and frustration grew warm in your chest, but you tried hard to swallow it down. Tried hard to let him prove Eddie’s theory of change.
“High school, Harrington,” you started, trying to keep your tone even and calm. “Yelled at us in the quad? Tossed people’s books in the hallway? Threw fries at us in the cafeteria.” You paused, debated whether or not you wanted to tack more on, and then you thought of Tommy and it came out all on its own, “Let your friends say really shitty things to me.”
Steve’s gaze dropped down to his feet and he didn’t say anything at first, not a word, and you kicked yourself for even bothering to think he’d be able to handle it. Of course he couldn’t.
“You know what–nevermind,” you mumbled, capping your bottle and moving to stand, but his hand grabbed yours and pulled you back down onto your milk crate.
“Wait. Please?”
And the way he was looking at you was pained, the pinch between his brows deep, and it made you pause. Was Eddie right? The way Steve cared for these kids, for your best friend, showed clearly something had shifted in him, but was it enough?
“Wait for what, Harrington? So you can show me things are different now?” your voice was softer, but hurt, “Because Eddie swears you’ve changed, but you still sound just like Tommy.”
The mention of his ex-best friend felt like getting the wind knocked out of him. He knew Tommy was wrong now. Hell, he knew it back then too. Knew how fucked up it'd been in the parking lot at the school, but he hadn’t had the guts to say anything. Couldn’t stand up to him or tell him off because he ‘had a reputation to uphold’ and what would everyone else say if he went ‘soft on a freak’?
“I–I know. I fucked up. I get it and I don’t know how I can prove it to you, but–” he started truthfully, hand still holding yours, thumb shifting softly against your palm, “–but I am. Really sorry.”
Really sorry.
Finally. After all those years. After everything he’d said and done, but sorry didn’t fix it. Or take any of it back. Was it too late?
Reluctantly you pulled your hand away from Steve’s, his fingers flexing as they fell away from yours, wanting to hold on just a little bit longer but you weren’t ready.
“You know that doesn’t fix it, right?” you said quietly, glancing up at Steve through the long sweep of your lashes and guilt settled heavy over him.
He knew it didn’t fix it. Knew all too well that words didn’t mean shit, but he would be the first to admit he was a slow learner. Crawl before you walk. Hit your head and maybe something will suddenly make sense and when it came to you? Vecna had been like a sucker punch.
You were strong-willed. Didn’t take shit lying down. Were fiercely loyal to your best friend and just wanted to try to help and it had taken Steve a minute to realize – in your eyes he was still bullshit, but he didn’t want to be. It wasn’t going to be easy, not in the least, but just like you he wanted to try.
“I know it doesn’t fix it.”
His eyes squeezed shut so he didn’t have to look at you. Tried to make it easier on himself as he pushed through the discomfort of taking responsibility for his actions. Tongue running along his bottom lip, just like it always did when his brain was working overtime, he finally looked back up at you.
“I’m not asking you for forgiveness or–or to be my friend or anything. I just want you know I really am sorry. For all of it. Okay?”
Sitting there so close to him, your hands inches away from touching, holding each other’s gaze as you listened to the words falling from his lips in sincerity – it was almost too much. The wall you’d built around yourself cracking and straining against this new feeling that had settled in your chest, but the words wouldn’t come to you as your lips parted and you tried and pull yourself together but–
“Dammit, Eddie, no wedgies!”
Dustin’s voice cut through the silence that had settled and Steve reflexively sat up. Pushed himself away from whatever it was you’d waded into together. Away from sorry and the feeling of your hands pressed together and the look you gave him through the long sweep of your lashes and the way you made his heart race. Turned away from you and played it off.
“Hey! Less dicking around, more putting shit together!” he yelled at Dustin and Eddie flipped him off without looking.
“Like you’re doing anything important, big boy!” Eddie hollered back and the way it made Steve’s cheeks grow pink made your lips twitch with a smile you had to work hard to hold back.
“Shut up,” Steve muttered at Eddie, but mostly to himself, and stood from his milk crate to put your filled vodka bottle into the box with the rest.
You watched quietly as he placed the last bottle in and folded the cardboard shut. Muscles tensing and pulling taut as he worked, moving against the fabric of his shirt and you quickly looked away for fear of being caught.
Then your eye caught his nail covered bat tipped against side of the Winnebago and the threat of the Upside Down and all its nasties wrapped around you tight like a vice.
Oh.
Right.
The end of the world.
Just a few yards away Nancy pulled the trigger on her shotgun, the sound making you flinch, and it hit you like a ton of bricks – you had absolutely no clue how to defend yourself against this. Against Him. Against an army from hell. You knew how to throw a punch and knee someone in the crotch and you’d always had an arm on you from playing volleyball, but none of that had anything to do with monsters. Or guns. Or nail covered bats.
“Uhm–” came out mumbled, more sound than word, and it pulled Steve’s attention up from the box.
“What’s that?”
“Can you–er–would you maybe show me how to swing that?” you asked and it made him turn to face you, giving you his full attention.
“What?”
Your cheeks grew hot.
“That bat,” you said shifting uncomfortably on your crate, “I don’t think–I can't shoot a gun.”
Steve’s expression softened as he remembered what it'd felt like the first time he saw a demogorgon. The first time he swung that very bat into the side of a demodog. The first time this world had been exposed to him and he knew how overwhelming and absolutely crazy it all felt.
Grabbing the bat in his hand he gave you a small smile and took the few steps back over to you.
“Sure. It’s not too hard. You know, just aim and swing.”
“Just aim and swing?” your tone was flat, all skeptics, a defensive move against his kindness and it made him chuckle.
“Well, there’s probably more to it than that, but those stupid bats are thick enough when they swarm it’d be hard for anyone to miss.”
Your eyes grew wide at the thought of swarming bats and it made him laugh again, a half-grimace pulling at his features.
“Shit, sorry. Uh–here,” readjusting his grip he bent his knees a bit and dug his heel into the ground. “Just make sure you get a wide stance, yeah? Like, hip width apart? And don’t be afraid to choke up on your hold. It’ll make your swings hit harder.”
He swung the bat and the sound it made as it cut through the air made your breath catch in your throat.
“Wanna try?” the boy held the crude weapon out to you and you swallowed thick. Stood up from your own milk crate and tentatively took it from him.
It was heavy in your hands, heavier than you thought it’d be, but smooth. You did as he said and slid your hands up a little further on the handle and tried a swing, but threw yourself off balance and stumbled forward.
“Ah, that’s okay. Here, uh–” Steve stepped in behind you and placed his hands over yours on the bat, “–try again, but follow through with your hip. Your grip’s good, just don’t throw your full weight forward.”
The warmth of his chest on your back made your cheeks burn again. Made your heart race. Hammering against your ribcage as he slowly took you through the motion again.
“Then when you get to the end of the swing, follow with your hip," his voice was much quieter over your shoulder, words falling into your ear and making you dizzy as he tried so damn hard to keep his focus. Placed a hand on your waist to guide it and toed your foot forward with his shoe as he took a step. “See?”
“Yeah,” was all you could manage, the feeling of his breath on your neck trailing goosebumps across your skin and you couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the way the closeness of him pulled your gaze and when you looked up he was looking too.
“Does that–uh–did that make sense?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper and you nodded. A small thing that barely registered and he was so close now. Close enough his nose nearly brushed your cheek, getting closer by the second and–
“Harrington! Where are those bottles? I gotta get ‘em loaded up!” Eddie yelled from the other side of the RV and the space between you shattered. Both of you stepping away as though you’d touched a hot stove and you pressed the bat into Steve’s hands.
“Should probably get ready,” you muttered and he nodded, cleared his throat and took two big steps back to set the bat down.
“Coming!” Steve called back as he scooped up the box of molotov cocktails, bottles clinking against each other as he walked away and disappeared around the corner of the RV.
King Steve turned Steve Harrington.
Steve Harrington turned something else.
Something more.
Something you thought you’d written off.
Something that held you so tightly now it made you want to run, but at the back of your mind, somewhere soft and warm, you couldn’t help wondering what might happen if you didn’t.
[ NOTE: THIS IS PART THREE OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]
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