#honestly... it hurts me to say but he kind of reminds me of a | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

coryosbaby · 7 months

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1. 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓢𝓮𝔁

𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: Inviting your incredibly nice and incredibly married family friend to your birthday party was not meant to be a way of seduction— or was it?

𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 #2: You clean your neighbor and family friend Anakin’s house, and he comes to your birthday party with a special gift.

𝓒𝔀: bimbo! Reader, infidelity, age gap (reader is twenty, Anakin is in his mid to late thirties)— nsfw . oral (m & f recieving), vaginal fingering, smell kink, daddy kink, sub! Reader, dom! Anakin | | 𝓝𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓭: angel, baby, little girl, sweetheart, dollface, kid, honey

𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: This is part 1 of the Insatiable series ! (Click link for series masterlist)

You’ve never really liked Padme.

And honestly, it’s clear that she doesn’t like you that much either. You don’t know why— you’ve always been nothing but fake nice to her.

At least you have a reason to hate her— that reason being her absolute sex symbol of a husband. Or, aka, a man that’s been hanging around your family for as long as you can remember.

Your hate for Padme originally spawned from the fact that she married Anakin. But as the years have went on, your hate for her has reigned even more clearer than before. She lies, steals Anakin’s money, and cheats— a lot. You know about the last part because you’ve seen random men spew in and out of the house when Anakin is working to make money and pay for the things that she wants. And it enrages you— you don’t understand how she could treat someone as perfect, handsome, and kind as Anakin so terribly.

If he was yours, you would never let him go.

—

You decide to invite Anakin’s to your birthday party.

Of course, he’s always went to them— but reminding him wouldn’t hurt, right? So, on a sunny summer day, you decide to walk across the street to his house. A box of cookies in your hand and in your favorite short skirt due to the scorching hot weather, you knock and wait for him. When he answers, he’s in nothing but a t shirt and boxers. The sight of his muscled thighs and his strong arms makes you a little weak in the knees, but you try to shove your sinful thoughts down. It seems that Padme is gone— thank god. If she knew you were here, she’d have your head.

“Hi, Ani!” You greet sweetly. Although run down and exhausted, Anakin still gives you a smile back. You always lighten the man’s mood.

“Hi, sweetheart.” he replies back.

“Nice day, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is,” his eyes had avert down to the clear box in your hands, the lid pink and adorned with hello kitty stickers. “Are those for me?”

“Mhm! ” you say excitedly. “I just made them! I knew you’d want some.”

Of course you did. You always give your neighbors sweet treats— Anakin the most often, because he’s your favorite. And because you know he loves the things you bake.

Anakin’s steps towards you, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Always know when I need something sweet, don’t you, honey?”

He looks at you with true affection, though you can sense something teasing underneath that pleased lilt. You can feel heat creeping up your neck as he grabs the box from you.

“Thank you.” He says, after a moment. “Have a nice day.”

He goes to shut the door. You shuffle nervously, and then loudly, you blurt out, “Wait! You’re coming to my birthday party this weekend, right?”

Anakin’s brows furrow as he opens the door back up, but he seems amused by your question.

“Do you want me to?”

“I-I mean—“ you stutter, rolling forward on the balls of your feet. “Of course I do.”

“Hmm…” he pretends to think for a moment, a small smile grazing his lips. “And what do I get in return? I’d have to take a day off, if it’s on a Friday…”

Shit. It is on a Friday. You bite your lip, doe eyes looking around as you come up with a plan.

“I’ll.. clean your house?”

It’s a dumb suggestion, one that makes Anakin crane his neck to look back at his slightly cluttered home. He tries to act serious as he looks back at you and crosses his arms.

“What, do you think my house is… dirty, or something?”

You flush, immediately shaking your head.

“No! No, Ani, that’s not what I meant. I- I just… I know you work a lot, so I assume that it’d take a lot of strain off of you. God, I’m sorry-“

“I’m fucking with you,” he interrupts. A smirk glazes his lips. “I know what you meant.” His eyes sweep across your body, and you feel a little dizzy. After a moment, he relaxes and his face splits into a grin.

“Of course I’ll come to your birthday party, kid. Y’know I always do.”

“Okay!” You smile sheepishly, but nervously bite your lip as you speak again. “Uhm.. you don’t have to get me anything. Not at all.”

“I’m gonna get you something.” He states bluntly.

“Okay! That’s— that’s fine.” Your eyes avert from his piercing gaze, something that you should be used to after all these years but aren’t. “I’ll still clean your house, though. I can do it right now, if you want!” You pause, trying to think of how to word the next sentence.

“I… I wanna do something nice for you, Ani.”

There it is again. That look in Anakin’s eyes, hungry, as he steps closer to you once again.

“Well…” he murmurs. ““…Aren’t you just a sweet little girl?”

He brings his fingers up to tank top, toying with the thin material.

You’re slick with wetness, and suddenly feel very shy. Your eyes look down at the wooden porch below you as his fingers brush up on your collarbone. You’re too flustered to really speak again.

Anakin, done with his teasing (for now), steps back and gestures towards the inside of his home.

“Go on,” he says. “Cleaner’s in the cabinet below the sink. You know how I like things to be organized.”

—

Getting the yellow sponge handed to you wet and sudsy, you begin to work on his kitchen counters first. It’s not like they’re gross, per say— his house is more cluttered than nasty. As you intensely work on getting the countertop nice and clean, you can feel Anakin’s gaze pierce through your skin. He had decided to sit at the bar of the kitchen a few moments ago, after finishing half of the container of fresh chocolate chip cookies. Now clad in a pair of jeans and a white wifebeater, he lights a cigarette in his hand. Finally finishing up the counters, you decide to work on the dishes.

Anakin moves to the other side of the bar. He always keeps a radio in this spot, and with idle hands he turns the knob to up the volume a bit. You smile when you hear a Brittany Spears song blaring through the speakers. It’s not Anakin’s taste, but he keeps it on anyways. He knows Brittany is one of your favorite artists.

“So,” he starts, beginning to strike up a conversation. “Twenty one, huh?”

You nod, as you pick up the dish sponge in front of the sink.

“Yeah. Legal drinking age— thank god.” You chuckle, remembering all the times that Anakin had brought you alcohol when you wanted some but couldn’t buy it.

“You’re growing up so fast,” he inquires. You hear rustling behind you— he must be moving around the kitchen. “Not a little girl anymore… ‘s really starting to freak me out.”

“I guess so,” you laugh.

“Time flies.”

It’s quiet after that, for a moment. But something creeps up your neck, like Anakin’s eyes are burning through the back of your skull.

You can feel his presence moving closer to you.

Closer… closer.

And with wide eyes, you feel his breath on the back of your neck.

When did he get so close?

Anakin can’t help but stare at your behind as he watches you— your body is absolute stunning, your thighs soft and absolutely kissable. He loves watching the gap in between your legs as you shift from foot to foot. Loves watching and imagining what your pussy must look like. Probably so wet, so tight underneath that skimpy little outfit. His cock aches at the thought.

He’s feeling bold, now. He doesn’t know why — maybe because he saw his wife leave in a random car earlier that morning, or maybe because he saw the explicit pictures on her phone sent to another man the night before that had caused him to get extremely wasted. But either way, his fingertips reach up and graze your hip.

You exhale sharply, his touch setting off fireworks on your skin.

“It’s different now, isn’t it?” You say, and the insinuation in the question is obvious.

Anakin’s fingertips continue to brush your hips, and then slowly— he wraps his arms around you. Hugging you from behind, pressing his face into your neck and his obvious hard on against your ass.

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. White hot heat licks up your spine at his gruff voice. “…very different.”

You know it’s fucked. You know it’s wrong. You know he’s fifteen years your senior, you know that he’s married, and you know that he’s been a family friend for years.

But something is tempting you to turn around.

Call it instinct, but your body adjusts to come face to face with the older man. He was closer than you thought he would be. His lips are almost grazing yours. Anakin’s got a look on his face that can only be described as holding back. His eyes shine with desperation and lust.

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s a sentence that seems to be more of a beg than a question. You can’t help but nod. And slow, like an awaiting storm, his lips are on yours— and that slowness soon gives way to electric sparks and teeth and tongue. His arms wrap around your waist, covering your body with his much wider one. He tastes like cigarettes and booze.

Your body is shoved against the sink. Anakin’s tongue rubs against the roof of your delicious, wet mouth. He can’t get enough. He kisses you and kisses you until lips feel bruised.

You savor this feeling, of him using your mouth as his own personal meal. And you fucking love it. No amount of guilt in your body can outweigh the neediness you have for him. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you part your legs so he can rest his hips against you. His jeans catch on your skirt— the flimsy material lifts up past your thighs. He follows the expanse of your legs and takes sight of your pink lacy underwear. Its cute, Anakin thinks, and his thumbs are about to pull them down and ravage you.

But you’re interrupted. Because as quick as lightening, Anakin’s phone is blaring out it’s loud call ringtone.

Jumping back, you and him are both surprised. He huffs, wiping at his kiss bitten lips as he makes way to pick up his phone.

The caller id reads “Padme”.

And fuck, you want to kill yourself right now. Of course, it has to be her of all people.

You hate her.

Anakin is quick to answer, and you can’t hear anything but a distraught voice on the other line.

“Padme? What is it?” His voice is laced with concern, but he lets out a breath when she yells something else. He sighs, his eyes glancing at your for a quick second as he rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Fuck. Okay, okay! I’ll come get you, just— stay there, alright?”

He hangs up with a groan, and turns to you.

“It’s just— Padme. Being Padme. She crashed the car… again. She’s fine, though.”

Unfortunately. You want to say. But you bite your tongue.

And just like that, the tension between you and Anakin goes back into hiding once again.

—

Friday comes quicker than you expect.

Your father and mother wake you up with your favorite breakfast, and you pick out your birthday outfit. It’s a pink dress with puffy sleeves, and you’ve been wanting to wear it for this occasion for months. Your birthday cake is your favorite flavor and decorated— of course— with hello kitty plastered on the frosting.

Your mother gushes at your dress, deciding to take many, many, many pictures of you. But you don’t complain— you’re grateful of all the decorations that she’s put up for you. They suit your taste.

You would’ve invited your friends but you figured this would be a family only type gathering. You may have a second party reserved just for them later.

It’s not long before your relatives arrives. Five o’clock on the dot, your cousins, uncles, aunts, and grandparents have all showed up. You open a few presents, have a good time, have some shots for the first time in front of your family. It’s fun.

But he still hasn’t showed up.

Looking at the clock— half past six now— you can’t help but be disappointed and upset. Anikan promised he would be here!

Your gut starts to churn with different anxieties. What if it was because of that moment back in his kitchen? What if he never wants to speak to you again?

But then, there he is. You hear the familiar roar of his black convertible outside— and your heart instantly soars.

He comes in a bit disheveled, as if he had rushed to get here, with a band tee and black jeans on. The way he still dresses like a young and corrupted boy amuses you— and also turns you on just a little bit.

He smiles when he sees you, and of course you smile right back. You’re so thankful he didn’t make Padma tag along with him— that would completely ruin this entire day.

“Hey, kid,” he says, as he pulls you in for a hug. His fingers trail down past your lower back and graze your ass, though know seems to notice.

“Hey, ani.”

“Happy birthday.” He congratulates you.

You thank him, and his eyes linger on yours for a bit too long as he speaks.

“You look nice.”

The butterflies tingle in your tummy again.

“So do you.”

And after that, it’s not long before everyone else recognizes his arrival and your dad is sweeping by and pulling him into one of his conversations.

As the night goes on, more of your family members slowly begin to leave. You prefer it this way; your judgy aunt Hilda was becoming way too much for you to bear right now. You’re sitting on the living room couch with your mom when she asks you to go and get her bag from the kitchen.

And when you go into the room, Anakin is there. And not only that, but he’s alone. He’s leaned up against your refrigerator drinking a beer.

Your eyes lock with his, and he follows the outline of your curves as you pick up your mom’s bag.

“Everyone leaving?”

His voice rings out through the room, piercing the awkward silence. You shrug, becoming intensely concentrated on the granite countertops all of a sudden.

“It’s late.” You reply. And then, in a smaller voice, “You were late.”

He sighs, and you look back to see him running his hands through his dark locks of hair. He looks frustrated.

“I know, honey. Im sorry. I had work, you know that. And… Padma’s been giving me a rough time.”

“When isn’t she?”

It isn’t meant to come off as snarky as it does, but your comment has Anakin huffing out a breath of air.

“Don’t give me attitude, okay? Im here, aren’t I?” He moves beside you, a look of guilt flashing across his face. You don’t say anything— you simply look at him with those eyes. Those pretty, doe like eyes that Anakin can’t bring himself to stop looking into. His eyes trail down to your lips.

“We should talk,” He says. “About..last weekend.”

You really don’t want to. That’s all you can gather right now. You half heartedly take your mom’s bag into your grasp and gesture towards it.

“I have to go give this to my mom,” you mutter. “See you around, Anakin.”

—

The night is over, but Anakin still hasn’t left. You wouldn’t expect him too, though. He stays over late once or twice a week sometimes to chat with your father. You’ve showered, gotten rid of the pesky hairdo that had taken you hours to do and was so frustrating the whole night but still was worth it anyway, and painted your toes a fresh, hot pink. You’re extremely happy to have your nightgown on, now. That dress was very tight.

Your bedroom door is open, but you don’t mind it. You can hear the sound of a football game from downstairs as you read one of your favorite magazines. Too busy wondering which breaking bad character you are through a printed out quiz in the booklet, you don’t even realize Anakin is at your door until he knocks.

It makes you jump, and when you whirl around to see who it is your bones almost jump out of your skin.

“You scared the shit out of me!” You exclaim. You slam the magazine down onto your vanity, and Anakin chuckles.

“Sorry.”

His footsteps approach you, but not before they’re moving so he can close your door shut. You become drastically nervous now that he’s alone with you. He must’ve made up some excuse about having to go to the bathroom so he could sneak up here.

“What are you doing in here, Ani?” You question feebly. He shrugs, taking a seat on your silky pink bed.

“What? Do I have to have an excuse to see the birthday girl?”

You shyly turn back to face your Vanity mirror. You begin to concentrate on brushing your hair. In the reflection you can see that Anakin is watching you.

“We both know that’s not why.” You reply quietly.

“I guess you’re right,” Anakin agrees. “Maybe it’s because I want us to continue where we left off. ”

Face flushing, you baffle yourself by throwing out an unintentionally disgusting line.

“So you wanna do me in my bedroom while my dad is downstairs? Is that it?”

Anakin smirks, amused, leaning back and seeming cocky. He doesn’t say anything, but you know that the answer is yes.

You turn around, watching this older man manspreading on your bed. Against your better judgement you decide to get out of the chair and sit beside him.

He smiles fondly at the closeness. His fist closes around something in his pocket.

“I got you something.” He says. “Your present. Open your hand.”

It’s a scary request, because Anikan has played tricks on you before by telling you this. Sticking a whole snake in your hand one time and making you cry for hours on end after is proof of how much of an asshole he can be sometimes. But he seems to be genuine, and this is your birthday present, so you hold out your hand for him to take.

He pulls out a box. Anyone could recognize it as one that has jewelry inside the packaging. And you were right. Because when you open it, you’re blessed to see a beautiful set of diamond earrings encrusted with your initials.

You gasp, picking them up and admiring them with excitement.

“Thank you so much, Ani!”

Your gushing over the present makes Anakin’s chest swell, and he’s surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug.

It’s been a while since Anakin has been hugged like this. Padme hasn’t touched him in months, or shown him any type of affection. Surprised but pleased, he’s quick to return it, his big arms wrapping around your waist and burying his face in your neck. The smell of your natural scent and strawberry perfume fills his nostrils. He pulls away after a moment. You see the wedding band on his finger, and it brings reality back to you.

“Where’s Padme?” You ask slowly, questionably, but still genuinely curious.

He doesn’t seemed angry by the question, but Anakin’s mouth forms into a thin line.

“Out.” he states. “Probably fucking some random guy she met on tinder.”

“She doesn’t deserve you,” You say, and frown, hand reaching out to touch his bicep. “You’re so nice, and she’s so mean to you. I hate her.”

“Don’t say that. You’re too nice to hate anybody.”

“But it’s true!” You exclaim. “I hate her.” And then, quietly. “She has you and I don’t… ‘S not fair.”

Anakin doesn’t like when you get sad, and he especially doesn’t like when you remind him of that fact.

“I’m not hers, y/n.” He replies, and it’s the truth. His feet move closer to your angry form. “I never have been.”

“Then why are you still with her? Why aren’t you with me?”

“How do you expect me to be with you, y/n? What do you think everyone would say?”

It’s actually a good point, but you dont want to think about that right now.

His arms wrap around your waist, and his face finds the crook of his neck as he breathes you in. You sigh, looking up to the ceiling, your pink curtains, anything but him.

“I want you,” he whispers to you. You try so hard not to look at him. “I want you so bad, angel.”

“You don’t know what you want, Anakin.”

“Fifteen years older than you and I don’t know what I want?” He scoffs, his lips forming into a thin line. “I know what I want.”

His voice takes a much darker turn then, something twinged with arousal and feral possession. “I want to bend you over your vanity and pound my cock into you until I can’t see straight. I want to kiss you, hold you… I’ve wanted it since you were nineteen years old. Cmon, sweets. Why don’t you let me in?”

Let me in. You shiver, and your clothes become unbearably uncomfortable on your body.

“I don’t know, Ani..”

“It’s okay, baby.” He coos, comforting. “Why don’t you let uncle Ani give you the second part of your birthday present, huh? Cmon, let me make you feel good.”

Its once again, truly fucked.

But with the way he’s holding you now, with the words spilling from his lips in that tone.. god, your knees are buckling. You sigh, and mindlessly you begin to run your hands down his body.

“I don’t want you to ever mention Padme to me” you reason with him, as your hands circle his waist. “Ever. Only ever talk about me.”

“I won’t mention her. She’s dead to me.”

You contemplate more deals to make, and then pout. “And I want to be paid for all that cleaning I did last week!”

“Done.”

It’s insane how quickly he agrees to what you want. But alas, he does.

And when his lips press against yours for a second time, you can’t resist falling into him and finally giving in.

To Anakin, you taste like your chapstick— he doesn’t know what flavor it is, but he wants to figure it out soon so he can buy it for himself and always have that familiar sweetness on his mouth. His arms wrap around your waist and he’s desperate, practically consuming you with a neediness he has never felt for anyone else. His teeth scrape against your bottom lip and you feel his tongue enter the warm canal of your mouth. Mewling and pulling yourself away, you press your half naked body against him and begin to trail kisses down his neck.

“Wanna suck you…” you whine. “but—your house— not here..”

Your hands grope his thighs, then one of them moves up and takes hold of his awaiting bulge. He’s big, and you can tell by how fat he feels in your palm already. He lets out a moan, pressing himself further into you and breathing against your cheek, “Yes, here.”

And so be it. You know once Anakin decides something, it’s going to get done. If he wants it, you’ll give it to him. You drop to your knees in an instant, previous request forgotten, pawing at the confines of his jeans and unbuckling his belt. He watches you through hooded eyelids, watches the way your mouth practically drools as you pop the button on his fly and unzip him. His briefs are almost cute. They have little looney toons characters on them. Scoffing and letting out a giggle at the sight of these on a thirty six year old man, who probably knew he was gonna get laid, you look up at him.

“Nice underwear.”

“Shut up,” he groans, gripping your hair with his big hands. “Just suck my cock, baby. C’mon, please?”

Slick forms and leaks down your thighs at his words. Jokes forgotten, you pull the silly material down and his aching cock springs free. Slapping against his stomach, all big and thick with a patch of brown hair at the base, you can see a drop of precum beading on the tip. Your thumb brushes over the spot and smears the creamy liquid around the head of his cock. He exhales sharply, his grip on your hair tightening.

“Shit,” he hisses, eyes shutting closed at the feeling of your hands.

“Ani,” you breathe. Your tongue licks a stripe up his cock, licking up the dribbles of fluid you had just smeared. You lick your lips with need. “You taste so good.”

“Yeah?” He bucks his hips against your face, watching how you greedily slurp his cock into your mouth. “Look at you, baby. Such a needy girl.”

You hum around him, making sure to breathe so the man doesn’t strangle you with his fat cock. The smell of his arousal invades your senses, and your head gets fuzzy. You down him all the way to his base— pressing your nose against the hair there, you almost pass out from how good it all is. He smiles, watching how easily you submit to him. He begins to thrust shallowly into your mouth.

“So fuckin’ good, angel. ” He grunts. “Take it this isn’t the first cock you’ve sucked? Shit— too good at it to not have been dicked down or throat fucked at least twice.”

You moan around him, knowing it’s true. But all the men you’ve hooked up with, they’ve always been older, brunette, with tattoos and an interest in ratty band t shirts— all of them have looked like Anakin. They’ve always looked like Anakin.

Looking down at you, Anakin’s gaze is hypnotized by your glossed lips moving up and down on his cock. His balls slap against your chin at a rapid pace, his cock aching for a warm release. He thinks about what you look like underneath that dress, thinks about how you’re such a fucking bitch for making him give into his raw and primal sensations like this.

“Don’t think you need to call me Anakin anymore, baby,” he inquires, with a growl grazing his plump lips. “Fuck… think you need a daddy, instead. One that’ll actually discipline you—“ he yanks on your head when you try to lift up and get some air, forcing you back down on him. “— and not let you act like a fuckin’ brat. Do you like tempting married men all the time like this, huh? Do you like tempting all of your dad’s friends? Don’t lift your fucking head up, baby, ‘m not done…”

Whining against his cock, your hand moves down against your clit. His degradations are making you desperate to reach your peak— and as fucked up as it is, yes, you do want to call him daddy, want him to take care of you and always keep your throat as his own personal fleshlight for his aching prick. His grip on your hair is causing blinding pain but it doesn’t matter.

As long as you please him.

He finally pulls you off of him, after a moment. Your chin is caked with drool, your eyes watery and tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re gasping, finally gulping in air after being smothered for so long.

“Breathe, honey,” Anakin murmurs, sweet despite his initial angry throat fucking. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Breathe for me.. there you go. Good girl.”

Relaxing against his thighs, you’re unbearably hot.

“Daddy..” you cry against him, wrapping your arms around his thick thigh. He frowns.

“Too much?” He asks, concerned. “Do you wanna stop? Or we could take a break..”

His caring demeanor makes your heart clench, and you can feel the tears actually stream down your cheeks now. No one has ever cared for you like this.

But as overwhelmed as you’re feeling, your pussy aches like no other and if you stop for even a millisecond you think you’ll die. You shake your head.

“No, daddy.“

He looks down at you, brows furrowed, and he nods.

“Okay, pretty. Cmon, stand up.” He gestures for you to get onto your feet, and when you ask why, he leans in close to your ear and gestures to your large vanity.

“I wanna fuck you.” He coos gently. “Wanna bend you over, right there. Can I?”

You nod as you pick yourself up on wobbly legs. You fall into him, allowing him to guide you over to the large table. He bends your pretty body over it, your ass in the air.

Anakin’s fingers play with the hem of your night. He loves it on you, thinks the color is so sweet and hypnotizing, but it has to come off or he thinks he’ll go crazy. He lifts up the fabric, yanking the material off to reveal yourself to him. Your cunt is exposed, all puffy, creamy, and slick. Anakin takes note that you aren’t wearing underwear and that your ass is almost too perfect. His hand comes down to lightly smack one of your cheeks. You whine, backing yourself up against him.

“Like a fuckin’ porn star,” he groans. “Body like a fuckin’ porn star, dollface. It’s perfect. And no panties? Sweetheart, you’re a dream.”

His finger ghosts over your swollen clit, and your hips buck against him desperately.

“Thank you, daddy. Wanted to be ready for you. Knew I wouldn’t be able to stay way if you started touching me..”

He smiles, his fingers spreading your slick across your button and down to your slit. He slips a finger inside, and you gasp a little bit. He rubs against your walls with his long digits, and he hits a certain spot that has your thighs crushing his hand. A smile forms on his face.

“Already?” He chuckles as he watches your desperation, rubbing against that spongy spot inside you. Your legs quiver. “Have you ever even been fingered before?”

“N-N-“ you pause, as he slips in another finger beside his first one. He begins to thrust rapidly, a burn forming in your core but nonetheless it feels fucking amazing. “No, no guy’s ever wanted to.”

“How the fuck could they not want to?” Anakin scoffs, baffled. Your wetness coats his fingers in creamy strings as he pulls them in and out of you. “Jesus, you’ve really been needing me. Huh, baby?”

“Always need you,” you whine. You’re close already; it’s insane how much Anakin’s touch affects you. Your wetness makes a loud gushing sound as he continuously finger fucks you. After a moment there’s rustling behind you, and Anakin’s fingers leave you. You whimper, but it’s not long before you’re moaning again when Anakin drops to his knees.

You’ve always dreamed of his tongue; watched how it looked poking his bottom lip, when he rubbed the inside of his cheek and made a noticeable bulge. And now, spreading your pussy lips with his strong hands, Anakin doesn’t hesitate to dive into your drenched cunt.

You gasp, his tongue beginning to draw harsh circles on your clit and then go back down to your tight hole. He pushes the muscle in as far as it can go, feeling against your walls. He practically whines as he does it— never in his life, not even with the woman he had decided to marry ten years ago, has he ever tasted a pussy this good. His cock is still out and rubbing against your calf, all wet and red and hard.

And after he makes you cum, he intends to split you in half with it.

He begins gliding his tongue over your clit again, and shoves his fingers back inside of you. Working you over and over, you can feel that you’re about to reach your peak. You can’t even say anything— his tongue is too perfect, too wet and warm against your aching bundle of nerves. The only thing that can leave your lips is his name as you cream all over his handsome face. You ride your high out with your hand behind you, burying itself in his black hair.

Breathing heavily, Anakin moves back up to grab your neck and turn your face towards his. He kisses you, passionate and with something else you can’t quite place. He grinds his cock against your lower back.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he grunts, as he lifts one of your legs up onto the vanity’s surface. It gives him easier access, and he bumps his tip up against your entrance. “You okay with that?”

You nod instantly.

At your confirmation, Anakin breaches your hole and pushes in slow.

It hurts at first. You’ve taken cock but never any as big as his. He holds your leg with one hand and your hip with the other. You can feel every ridge, every vein as he breaks you apart on him. Your head is down and the vanity digs into your skin, but it doesn’t matter because the way that Anakin holds you makes you feel safe, protected. As if your entire family isn’t downstairs, as if he isn’t taking you like a cheap whore in your childhood bedroom, while his wife is taking a ride in the car that he bought for her.

But you don’t think about that. You just close your eyes, bite your lip, and gratefully accept the birthday present beginning to pound your guts.

#Anakin Skywalker #Anakin Skywalker x reader #Anakin Skywalker x fem! reader #Anakin Skywalker x bimbo! reader #Modern! Anakin Skywalker #Dbf! Anakin Skywalker #Neighbor! Anakin Skywalker #Anakin Skywalker smut #Star Wars #Hayden Christenen #anakin skywalker fanfic

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ellecdc · 2 months

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Mother, im sitting here at 4am, eating mini easter eggs and ive had tge most brilliant idea!! (Inspired by @inkdrinkerworld 's fic)

Okay so, poly!moonwater and readers been having trouble sleeping due to tensions/problems with her pureblood family. As a result shes been taking more naps, but they arent restful. So reader were napping in Rems bed (the dungeons were too cold) but after a fitful 30 minutes she gets up groggy, sleep deprived and beyond frustrated. She stumbles her way down to the common room, pin point Sirius lounging across the couch and promptly throws herself down to cuddle with him and continue her nap. Everyone (minus Siri) is shook. Jamie even asks if she got the wrong person because Reggie was sitting over there (in which he got a one eyed death glare before she burrowed into Siris chest and passed out).

Now, what everybody else didnt know was that Siri had more or less adopted reader as his own (she remined him so much of Reggie, being her big brother was 2nd nature). And while Barty was her person, he was a little too crazy to be comforting in this situation ("y/n, i'll get rid of them for you. Its not hard to do so" "Barty, no."). And of course Siri nows how bad their kind of familys are so he'd been taking care of reader on the down low as an older brother would.

Bonus if Reggie then decides that looks warm and fuzzy and wants Siri cuddles too so he joins ( it took him so long to get to a point where he could let himself be vunerable enough to openly allow Siri to take care of him 😭)

aweeee poor reader. this ended up being way more serious than I thought it would be? like it's not funny at all, there's no humour (which feels odd to me, usually I can throw some jokes or banter in there) but plenty of hurt comfort???.......idk, I can't tell if this is any good, it feels very different from my usual pieces

poly!moonwater x fem!reader whose family sucks (but it's very Sirius-centric)

CW: mentions of insomnia, mentions of abusive families, making fun of only children (sorry), hurt/comfort

You were miserable to say the least; you couldn’t remember when the last time you had a restful sleep was, and nothing you did seemed to help.

The closer it got to the Winter Holidays, the more your mind seemed to spiral. Every time you began to relax, your heart pounded as if you’d accidentally leaned too far back in your chair, reminding you of your upcoming visit home. Every time you closed your eyes, you were bombarded with images of angry faces and violent curses being shot at you.

The Slytherin dungeons were too cold, and every time you found your way into Regulus’ dorm, Barty insisted on butting in, and though you appreciated his support, you couldn’t handle his threats promises to burn down your home with your parents in it.

Remus and Regulus both suggested you perhaps talk to Madame Pomfrey about getting some dreamless sleep or sleeping draught, but you were too embarrassed to admit to your two overprotective boyfriends that you’ve used them so frequently during your life for this very reason that they had lost all efficacy.

It had gotten to the point that you managed to get the most sleep in the library bent over the table with your face on your book whilst Remus and Regulus did their work (and sometimes yours), and that honestly left you feeling more painfully tired than you had been before your nap.

So, you were nearly falling asleep at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall over your chicken and roast potatoes when Remus gently nudged you and suggested you go lie down for a bit and you wanted to weep into your potatoes which was only slightly less embarrassing than sleeping in them, causing him and Regulus to bring you up to Gryffindor tower.

You’d kicked them both out of the Marauders’ dorm room after some time – Remus for snoring and Regulus because the sound of him turning the pages of his book was distracting you. He promised to stop reading, but then he breathed too loudly and you started crying.

You were overtired, emotional, and running on fumes.

You’d counted puffskeins, you’d had a warm glass of milk, you’d taken off articles of clothing and reconfigured your outfit numerous times (which was currently Remus’ jumper and no pants), and you’d tried every position imaginable to no avail.

You think you might have perhaps gotten five minutes of sleep before you woke up with a start, a barely repressed scream grating through your teeth.

Feeling disturbingly weepy and no less groggy from your horrid sleep, you pulled on a pair of your sweatpants and grabbed the throw blanket from the end Remus’ bed before trudging down the stairs to the common room.

“You should have seen the look on Filch’s face- oh! Hi Y/N!” James called as you made your way over to the three-seater and stood over the black-haired boy currently occupying it.

“Oh, Trouble.” He cooed sympathetically at you before kicking his feet out, laying back, and opening his arms for you to join him. You quickly climbed on top of him, and he tucked you in between the back of the sofa and his side, bending your knee so that your thigh rested on top of his, and pulled the blanket over the two of you.

You let out a shaky sigh and felt the first few tears fall from your eyes and onto Sirius’ chest.

“Uhm...” James said loudly, looking over to both Regulus and Remus cuddled in a large plush chair from his place on the loveseat with Lily like ‘are you seeing this right now?’. “I think you’ve got the wrong wizard there, L/N.” He said with a nervous laugh.

“No, she’s quite alright.” Sirius gritted back at him, looking far more severe than James thought the situation called for as he rubbed his hand consolingly up and down your arm.

James looked to your boyfriends, his face clearly asking all the questions that his mouth wasn’t.

“He helps, sometimes.” Regulus admitted, not looking particularly happy that you chose his brother over him, but not nearly as murderous as James figured he might look if he’d found Lily snuggled up like that with some other bloke. And it appeared as though the look of heartbreak on Remus’ face was caused more by your current sorry state and less about your current cuddle partner.

“But...your brother?” James asked, still befuddled over this development. “Doesn’t she usually go to Junior for things like this?”

Sirius scoffed. “Junior’s solution to almost anything is fire or murder.”

“Or both.” You whimpered quietly, causing Sirius to tighten his arm around you and bring his other hand up to continue stroking your arm.

“Besides, Barty’s an only child.” Regulus said flippantly.

“What’s that got to do with it?” James asked, slightly offended at the insinuation that anything may be wrong with him on account of his only child-ness.

Regulus’ irritable demeanor over Sirius usurping you was quickly replaced by a cocky smirk at getting under James’ skin.

“Let me ask you this, Potter: last summer when Lily returned your letters unopened and called you an arrogant toerag after saying she’d rather date the giant squid, whose arms did you cry into?”

“He didn’t cry.” Lily laughed at the same time as James answered “Sirius’” without any hesitation.

“What?” Lily asked, looking slightly horrified that she may have actually hurt James’ feelings.

“Oh, all the time, every time, actually.” James said readily.

“He got snot on so many of my favourite band-tee’s, Red. As a matter of fact, I expect retribution.” Sirius commented.

“And why do you think you cried into Sirius’ arms?” Regulus continued.

“Well...because he’s my best mate.” James said simply.

“You may think that’s the reason, but you’re wrong. It’s because Sirius is an older brother.”

James scoffed at that. “Please, that has nothing to do with it!”

“Have you ever cried in Remus’ arms?”

“No, but-”

“Pettigrew’s?”

James grimaced but answered honestly. “No.”

“No. Because they’re not older brothers.” Regulus said definitively.

“That actually makes sense...” Lily mused aloud.

“You say that like you’re surprised, Evans. I know you’re not used to good idea’s coming out of men’s mouths, but I do assure you it happens more frequently than you might imagine.” Regulus taunted, earning him a pillow being hurled at his head.

Much to James’ chagrin, his seeker reflexes caught the pillow before it made impact with his face.

“Tosser.” James grumbled.

“Would you guys shut up.” Sirius whispered, causing everyone to look over at you.

Regulus couldn’t even find it in him to be miffed when he saw you sleeping what looked to be quite peacefully in Sirius’ arms. Your eyes were slightly swollen from your tears, and he could see the tracks they had left on your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose, but you looked so content.

“So... all big brothers know how to do that?” James asked incredulously.

“I doubt it.” Sirius commented quietly.

“Only ones who know what it’s like to live in a Pureblood hellscape and needed to share his bed with his younger brother who was too scared to sleep on his own for years.” Regulus added quietly, staring unseeingly towards you and Sirius. Remus pulled Regulus tighter into his side and began rubbing his arm consolingly.

Suddenly, things started to make a little more sense to James.

“I’ll write to mum.” James stated, causing both brothers, Lily, and Remus to look at him bemusedly.

“About what?” Remus asked finally.

“Y/N staying with us.” James said simply.

Regulus opened his mouth ready to argue; to argue that James didn’t have to and that he already took in both Sirius and Regulus. James didn’t owe Regulus anything.

But Sirius spoke first.

“She should be with her big brother, Reggie.” Sirius said, shooting him an encouraging smile and wink.

And seeing how your breathing had fallen even with your mouth slightly ajar as you clutched to the fabric of Sirius’ jumper like it was a lifeline, who was Regulus to argue?

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kairoot · 8 months

Text

ENHYPEN, s/o who wears glasses

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : fluff

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : none really, jokes

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 : none

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : enha x gn!reader

author’s note : where my glasses pookies at?!? 😔

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝐥𝐡𝐬.

honestly thinks you’re so cute

obviously without your glasses you’re still cute but he thinks they make you look even more adorable

literally gushes over you

he tries to help you be careful with them

he’ll remind you to take them if you’re forgetting them for work or class or smth

“baby, don’t forget your glasses, okay?”

loves how they come down your nose when you’re really focused or just in general

wears his glasses around the house so you two can match (even if they aren’t the exact same frames)

he loves when your frames get pushed all against your nose when he kisses you , thinks it’s cute (idk it’s heeseung)

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝐣𝐣𝐩.

the responsible one out of the two of you

makes sure you’re extra careful

tells you not to fall asleep with them on

..you do the exact opposite of what he said

he takes them off for you when you do (+ a little kiss on the nose cause you look too cute while sleeping :< )

he goes out of his way to prevent you from breaking those things

“y/n, if you break those, i’m not buying you a new pair.”

ends up buying you a new pair

might even buy a matching set for himself

cleans them for you

makes sure you’re wearing them at all times

“babe, you know you can’t see so just put them on.”

you comply :(

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝐣𝐬.

literally LOVES glasses on you

another one that thinks you look so stinkin adorable

he’s there at the eye doctor, when you first get them

is so scared for you when you have to do the puff test 😭

“babe, what if it takes your eye out or something-“

“jake, it’s just air 🙁”

helps you pick out the frames

he’s actually got really great taste

is the “how many fingers am i holding up?” type

he has so many pics of you with your glasses

and of you and him with matching frames

you have to keep them away from him cause he can be really.. clumsy

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝐩𝐬𝐡.

im not even gonna lie to you, he calls you a nerd

but in an affectionate way of course

makes sure you're wearing them at all times even if you don't like them

"hoon, pls i hate them sm, they make me look like a nerd 🙁"

"so? you need them. and you're my nerd."

surprisingly, he’s way more responsible than you

another one who’s extremely careful with them and makes sure you are as well

secretly thinks you’re so attractive with them

it’s kind of not a secret though cause you see him stare at you a lot more when you wear them vs when you don’t

either way you’re cute, doesn’t really matter to him

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝐤𝐬𝐰.

another one that loves glasses on you

a lot of the times , people see glasses as something to be insecure about but sunoo doesn’t really think much about it

of course he notices them but he thinks they add character

he buys a matching pair just like jay

he definitely likes to study with you just so you can match (idk it just sounds so cute)

loads of cute library selcas with you

i feel like he’d buy you all types of different frame styles

he likes taking pics with your glasses even though you tell him it’ll hurt his eyes

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝐲𝐣𝐰.

‘how many fingers am i holding up’ pt 2.

also cleans them for you pt 2.

adjusts them for you if the slide down your nose or if they’re all the way against your face

he always says they compliment your eyes

he’s just so 🥹💔

mocks how you squint when you don’t have them on 😭

definitely helps you pick them out

he tries the different pairs on with you when you’re at the eye doctor

don’t tell him you like more than one pair cause then he’s gonna get all of them for you

“jungwon, seriously, it’s okay I’ll just get these-“

“where’s the other pair you liked?”

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝐧𝐫𝐤.

calls you a nerd pt 2.

takes your glasses cause he knows you can’t see without them 💀

WILL NOT give them back until you give him a kiss

it’s giving “where my hug at?” 🤨

other than that, he loves the way they look on you

pretends he doesn’t know you when you walk out of the doctors’ office with your new frames

“who is that fine babe 😩”

niki.. sthu🧍🏽‍♀️

wears his glasses more often because of you (have yall seen that boy in glasses ??? omg 😫😫)

ngl he’s probably the reason you break them

too much roughhousing

“RIKI OMG-“

will definitely buy you a new pair

+ free kisses n food cause he didn’t mean to do it :/

author’s note: im sorry this is so short. also, if i see another enha tour clip i just might jump into a lake (i can’t swim)

taglist: message or comment to be added

#enhypen #kairoot #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #ni ki enhypen #enha scenarios #jay enhypen #jake enhypen #heeseung enhypen #jungwon enhypen #sunghoon enhypen #sunoo enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen headcanons

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ma1dita · 2 months

Note

its 2am and im delirious im so sorry but

jealous! (and maybe clingy!)luke x apollo!reader when he sees the same couple of campers constantly coming to you for medical attention over small scratches or feigned illnesses just to get your attention..and reader is just so kind to everyone they’d never refuse to treat anybody no matter how minor the injury, but it drives luke a little mad teehee 🤭

🐥 also happy (late) birthday jo!!

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x gn!apollo!reader

a/n: i will never get tired of bf!luke.

wc: 947

“Be with you in a second, sweet boy!”

Your hands were fiddling with gauze as you brush past Luke sitting on the only empty bed left in the infirmary. And you weren’t even talking to him! Your words were directed to his half-sibling and with all the others waiting for you, it was obvious that you weren’t leaving your shift anytime soon despite his plans for your date night.

“Doc, what about me? I feel sick too,” he mutters into your neck, big hands pulling at your waist and playing with the smock tied around your frame.

“What’s the matter, my love?” You coo, brushing back his mop of hair and looking into his honey sweet eyes. He grins and it’s a bit boyish and quite sinister, all Luke with a definite trick up his sleeve.

“My heart hurts…. because I pulled a few strings to have dinner with you at the lake and we’re not there right now,” he sighs, hot breath tickling your earlobe, “And I need you to fix me up too.” Cheeky asshole.

You bite your lip and slowly pull yourself away from his embrace, not without kissing the corner of his mouth before the fluttery feeling is weighed down by the reminder of your responsibilities at the sound of a scream from across the infirmary.

The room was filled with campers of all ages vying for your attention and waiting for your gentle hands to tend to everything from a scraped knee to a rising fever (though if you ask Luke, he’s so sure he saw Bradley from cabin 9 standing over the forge in the armory trying to break a sweat earlier).

It was sickening. Someone ought to tell these campers to get in line. Connor Stoll almost skips–excuse me, limps, (now that you’re watching him again) towards Luke with a shit-eating grin at his moody disposition at the fact that he has to fight for your attention.

“Beat it, loser.”

“Baby! Don’t be mean or I’ll ask you to leave. Get up, Connie needs to get his knee wrapped,” you say with a furrow in your brow. Your eyes dart around the room wondering where the rest of your siblings have gone to help you heal these campers, but unlike you, they’ve already clocked out for the day. It’s a wonder how many kids at Camp Half-Blood get brutalized, maimed, or both on the daily, but it’s all in a day’s work of being a child of Apollo.

“Yeah, move it bighead!”

Luke grumbles, rising to his feet and shoving Connor a bit harder than what’s brotherly, so much so that the preteen falls face first into the cot. (Luke thought it was dumb that the kid was acting like a baby since the idiot scraped his knee jumping off the roof of the dining pavilion because Travis and Chris dared him to.)

“OWWW!” he groans, and before you can react, Bradley’s asking for another cold towel and little Lila from cabin 4 starts crying about her sun poisoning from being out in the strawberry field—your shaking hands and wide eyes let Luke know you’re at your limit so he ushers you behind a curtain for examinations.

“Honestly, you’re overworked babe. Take a break,” he says sternly, but softens as you look up at him with a pout and a whole lot of love. He smooths your hair down and hands you a glass of water.

“Just need to see the rest of the patients for the day and send them on their way. I don’t want anyone to be hurt,” you mumble through sips, leaning against the wall and shutting your eyes. To Luke, it sounded like the quicker you get through this the more time he spends with you— and so he moves so quickly that you barely process what he’s doing until you hear various complaints from campers (who are annoyed that their new nurse isn’t as pretty as you and dons a fierce glare and curls that hang over his forehead like a dark cloud).

Nurse Luke models after what he’s seen you do here countless times, but in a way that’s very much his own. He gives out ambrosia and nectar, cleans up booboos where needed, tells Bradley to fuck off and take a cold shower, tapes Connor’s mouth shut, and awkwardly jokes to a kid from cabin 6 that he probably shouldn’t be the one doing stitches or he’ll get a scar that looks like the one running down his cheek. They agree to wait until later, holding bloody gauze to their chin.

By the time you’ve calmed yourself down, you pull back the curtain to see an eerily quiet infirmary (and you’re not sure if they’ve been threatened into silence) but everyone is bandaged, fed and watered—to the best of Luke’s ability. It brings up a sunny smile on your face that reminds him of the first rays of morning light which is a view he never gets tired of, and you finally throw in the towel when Leo and little Will come in for the evening shift.

A resounding sigh is heard from the infirmary’s patients as you leave with your boyfriend, to which you don’t think much of as you look at Luke like he’s the answer to all of your problems. He kisses you in the doorway like its a cure, whispering sweet nothings and promises of a nice dinner at the lake even if it’s pitch black outside now.

It also serves to those damn kids as a reminder that he’s the one who gets to fuss over you and though he doesn’t like starting fights, boy, does he love ending them, in his own little way.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fluff #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎#for my gn babies (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

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simpjaes · 3 months

Note

hi i just stalked the crap our of your page and HOLY CRAPTHIS IS MY NEW GUILTY PLEASURE

can i req seeing how enha hyung line would take care of you after railing you soooooo hard????

hyung line + aftercare after very intense sex

warning: uh....painful sex, fainting, dissociation, anal, implied squirting, degradation, idk just a lot of intense sex stuff ig

note: it's a lil messy, i've been running errands all day and am using this to push myself back into the writing brain :D

★ heeseung:

what i wanna say is that depending on the circumstances, he'd probably throw a towel at your head and walk away to shower alone but we all know heeseung is so much more than a careless fuck boy for the most part. in my opinion, if he's got you where he wants you and he's allowed to fuck you as hard as he can, rendering you faint, dizzy, and almost dissociated, he either has some sort of feelings for you, you're someone else's girlfriend and he wants you to like him more, or you're already in a committed relationship lmfao

and you know, you thought that after he managed to pull three orgasms out of you, fucked all three of your holes, and managed to get you all twisted up for him to cum in places he definitely isn't supposed to, you really thought he was done.

but then he chuckles, taking one look at you once his own mind clears from his orgasm and it's like...how could he not just continue to fuck you? you look so pretty already fucked open, lying there with tears in your eyes and shaking?

you'd hear something akin to "you're gonna take a bit more, open those eyes back up for me," and "i can tell you can take it, just keep your eyes on me."

it's kind of pathetic, actually, how you really do just lay there and take it until he says you're finished.

so, yeah, when you're with someone like heeseung, there's always a thought in your head about if he'll even take care of you at all after the fact. at least, the thought is there before he breaks your brain. even if every time before this where he's needed to bring you back, he has without question and with a voice from him that is always so rare to hear.

just kinda hard to imagine someone who fucks you near to the brink of passing out, sometimes actually passing out, finding it within themselves to take care of you as deeply as they fuck you, yknow?

but, time and time again he has to remind you that he's not only capable but willing to make sure you're well taken care of. after all, you do your part in taking it, so he'll do his part in giving you what you need too. only after scooping half the mess with his fingers and feeding it to you, of course.

after that though? he's very much hauling you off for a warm shower and tenderly washing you. very very gentle with his hands, knowing how sensitive your holes are. he'd compliment you, he'd praise you for letting him absolutely destroy that ass, and ultimately, lay you to sleep next to him regardless of what the relationship status is, making sure you're well aware that he's not just using you for pleasure. he's very much appreciative of what you bring to his bedroom, and there's no reason to pretend he isn't.

☆ jay:

i like to think that jay would have you in fucking pain and barely able to stand on your own two feet by the time he allows you to close your legs with deep groans as you try to catch your breath.

honestly, the stamina this man has and actively spends on you could render anyone immobile for at least a week with the way he snaps his hips and holds you down from wiggling away in sensitivity. and man, the things he'd fucking say to you through it. so degrading, so controlling and dismissive, entirely fucking insulting. you're shocked time and time again that even while knowing it's just sex talk, it still hurts your feelings every single time.

then again, he's aware of that. but you're so goddamn pretty when you're crying and moaning, it drives him insane to know you endure it for his pleasure.

you're soaked by the time it's over and done with, he's soaked, and honestly the swollen marks against your ass still burn intensely when he rolls you over on your belly to get a good look at his work.

always with a breathy "aw, baby, i really fucked you up this time, huh?" or a little "took it so well, you still can't even focus your eyes on me, can you?" before rubbing any and every pained mark he left on you.

after his own brain clears of the sex-fog, he'd wrap you up, really warm and tightly in his arms as if his hug would wipe away any of the spit and cum drying between your bodies, as if it could mask all of those insults he flung at you. still, he'd be fluttering hundreds of kisses against your neck and ears, whispering little compliments about how pretty you are when you're barely able to keep your eyes open, about how much he adores you, and how often he wishes you'd believe these words over the silly orgasm-fueled insults.

still whispering, throughout the entire session of his care after the fact. always loving that you let him harm you as long as he's healing you just as good. and he does, truly, with the back rubs and the showers, tons upon tons of sweet kisses. constant praise. he'd put your lotion on you and rub it in thoughtfully, occasionally some medicated cream if his fingernails dug in a little too deep.

always always always holds you against his chest when you drift off to sleep, making sure any pain in your body feels more like love than anything else, and promising time and time again that he'll make sure you always fall asleep knowing he loves you, and that he doesn't at all think you're a fuck-doll, that he wouldn't let his friends have their turn way you.

(i am madly in love with him, pls look away and stop thinking of him now thank u)

★sunghoon:

ah, sunghoon. yeah. sunghoon. this man would leave you a fucking mess of tears and drool, edging you for hours. hell, he edges you for fucking days just because he can. not at all because you've been bad, or a brat, or have managed to make him jealous.

this is one of those days. you could tell he came home with that look in his eye, grabbing your face and practically forcing you to lift on your toes just so he could whisper the planned torture against your tongue.

so, after the second day with you whining, fucking begging to be released from your prison of sensitivity and lust, maybe he gives it to you. maybe he wakes you up from a deep and much needed sleep with fingers harshly pinching your clit.

ah, the pain. that alone was enough to make you cum, and you did. unfortunately, he didn't like that very much so your new torture was to get off as many times as he expected you to.

after about, what, the seventh orgasm? you stopped counting, it was closer to eleven in the afternoon and he'd been giving it to you for hours, all over that little mishap.

an eight orgasm knocked your ass out, exhausted, spread out, fucked senseless. you could barely hold your head up, but he does it for you. first by your hair, but noting the look in your eye indicating that he really needs to stop by this point.

and sunghoon is the type that would stop at that point. something in his brain clicking and forcing him back into that perfect boyfriend persona, where the only thing in the world he wants to do is make you happy.

and he knows it's not that you're not happy right now, it's mostly just the fact that he thinks he broke you're brain and you forgot how to feel anything other than his cock ramming inside of you.

so, he'd remind you time and time again. how his hands can do so much more than choke you, and how his lips can be sweet and less bruising against your temple when you really need it. you'd feel entirely loved when he's taking care of the mess he caused. both physically and mentally for you. needing to bring you back to reality with soft touches and tight holds.

it worked every time, because by the next morning, you'd just be moaning and groaning about how if he hadn't of make you breakfast in bed, you may have very well slashed his tires for the amount of suffering he put you through.

☆ jake:

bro is taking care of you not only after sex, but the entire time during sex. there's not a single moment where he's intentionally trying to hurt you, or forcing you to take more than you can handle.

it just....kind of happens on nights like these. where his hands are clinging, and his throat is begging, and your body can't say no. with his pretty puppy dog eyes asking if he can try anal, with his fingers slamming too deep, with his grip on you so tight you know it'll bruise, with his ability to knock the breath out of you and not give it back until you're nearly blue in the face.

yeah, most of the intense shit is accidental, but god is he taking care of you. always apologizing but continuing, always promising to make it up to you, always feeding into your ego more than his own, reminding you that the pain his body lends only comes from the immense amount of need he has to practically crawl inside of you and live there forever.

it's kind of amazing actually, that someone who starts so gentle can also end with blood in his mouth from bitten lips and swelling bruises all over your body.

he tends to you hand and foot. carrying you where ever you need to go even if just to your closet three feet from the bed, dresses you, undresses you, fixes your hair, does your skin care, all while kissing the bruises and ignoring the fact that he knows he'll never have enough of you, and you're probably always gonna be in pain when he loses his control like that.

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #heeseung smut #jake smut #jay smut #sunghoon smut #jaeyun smut #jongseong smut #hardthots

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zepskies · 10 months

Note

This is more of a Sam and Dean request than a reader and Dean request but what about Sam having a crush on Dean's gf? How would he react to that, I am honestly CRAVING angst and this is the angstiest, is that a word, thing I could think of, I am so sorry if you don't like angst or this makes you uncomfortable!!!

Oh my God. You killed me with this one, hun. 😫😫 I have another SB imagine coming next week, but I thought I'd put out this one for Dean to break it up a bit.

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,500

Imagine: You are Dean's one exception.

Sam knows it's wrong.

You're smart, with a degree in history that aids them well on hunts.

You're sharp, with a smart mouth that rivals Dean's (and keeps him on his toes).

But you're also kind. You take care of him and Dean with all the feminine grace and care they've never had in their lives.

Sam realizes it when he's up until 3 a.m. in the bunker's War Room. He's sat at the table, researching, eyes bleary, hands cramping from turning pages. And he finds a mug of hot tea sliding next to his idle hand on the table.

You're there with a smile and a hand on his shoulder. "Workin' hard or hardly working?"

Sam clears his throat and nods, chuckles a little. "I'm good." He eyes the mug. "Thanks, though I might need something stronger."

You eye him with gentle reproach. "Nope. Green tea is better for you this late at night. You really should go to sleep, Sam."

Sam tacitly agrees, but only because he can feel the warmth of your hand through his clothing, and it makes his face warmer than the tea. He watches you walk away, notices the curve of your ass in those little shorts. He can imagine your warm hands on his body, caressing him. He can imagine letting his lips graze your skin, exploring you, then devouring you.

And that's when his thoughts stutter to a halt. Sam inwardly cringes.

Despite his sleep-deprived brain, he's reminded that you're traveling down the hall to the room you share with his brother, and for Sam, it's nothing short of torture.

Because he realizes then that he isn't just fond of you. He doesn't love you like an older brother, or even a quasi-brother-in-law. He wants you.

Again, Sam knows it's wrong...but he can't help it. It's one of the saddest cliches in the fucking book. You're his brother's girl, and he wants you for himself.

And it's getting harder to hide it from Dean. They know each other too well -- a result of having no one but each other, but more practically, having lived in such close quarters for so long before they discovered the bunker.

When Sam gets hurt on a hunt, the cut is at a bad angle. He can't quite reach, so you dutifully come around and gently move his hand out of the way to do the stitch yourself. You tsk at him in playful disappointment. "I swear, it's a wonder you and Dean aren't walking patchwork quilts at this point."

Sam chuckles through his nose, wincing when the movement pulls on the stitch. You shoot him a stern look. "Stop moving."

"You're the one making me laugh!" he says, smiling incredulously.

"I don't accept excuses," you retort. "Keep still, please."

"Yes, ma'am," Sam says, his breath hitching for a different reason as he feels your soft hands along his side. He plays it off as pain. "Sorry," you murmur more sincerely. He tells you it's okay. His gaze flicks up, unconsciously finding Dean's face across the room.

He's just finished cleaning a cut on his hand. But he's been watching; Sam can tell. Dean's too perceptive not to notice Sam's discomfort. He probably even knows why. Sam can see a glint of it in Dean's eyes, the stoic front of his face.

"There we go!" you say in satisfaction, and you pat Sam's bare arm. He gives you a wan smile. "Thanks."

"You done, sweetheart?" Dean asks. You get up from your seat by Sam. "What do you need?" you ask.

"You. Come 'ere," he says with a smile, giving you a beckoning finger. "I felt that knot on the back of your head earlier. Think you're slick?"

You huff, but you also smile, in the way you only do for Dean. Sam watches you get up and go to Dean, who touches your cheek, stroking with a thumb first. Then he parts your hair to inspect the back of your head, and you wince a bit. You did fall pretty hard, now that Sam thinks of it. He frowns.

Dean lets out a deep breath. "You've got a nasty bump. You're taking it easy tonight, got it?"

"Yeah? Gonna help me relax?" you whisper. But Sam still hears you, because apparently no one taught you how the hell to whisper.

Dean smirks. "Watch it. I'll think you're flirting with me."

You give him a coy smile as your hand travels up his chest, between the open edges of his plaid shirt, then all the way down, to tease at his belt. "Believe me, when I do, you'll be the first one to know."

Dean's smirk deepens, but his eyes are softer. He closes a hand around yours and brings it to his lips. You lean up and request, wordlessly, for a kiss. Dean obliges you, capturing your lips with a soft kiss.

He eventually breaks from you, only to press his lips to your forehead next, closing his eyes with a sigh. He doesn't like it when you try to hide your injuries from him. You just don't want him to worry so much.

You smile and rest against his chest afterwards. It's clear as day what your heart holds.

It's hard for Sam to watch. His throat constricts, but he takes pains to avert his gaze.

He's so full to the brim with this that he sees no other recourse. He catches Dean alone in the kitchen and tries to make a confession. "Dean, we need to talk."

"Can it wait 'til I'm done?" Dean's plating up some stovetop mac and cheese -- your favorite.

"You're done cooking," Sam points out. Dean looks up at him. "We're doing a little dinner in bed situation. I made her promise to take it easy."

Sam admires the way Dean takes care of you. He really does. But it's also like a small oyster knife twisting in his gut. "Good. I'm glad," is all he says. "Yeah, we can talk later."

"Later" doesn't come for a long time. Weeks, in fact. But every time he tries to broach the problem, Dean finds a way to wiggle out of having the conversation. Always a distraction. A hunt. A fire you almost started in the kitchen. Being "in the middle" of something -- something in the bedroom that you insist needs Dean's immediate attention. Sam gives up for a while after that.

But Winchesters are nothing if not goddamn stubborn. Sam finally catches Dean alone in his room for once. You've gone to the grocery store, leaving the brothers alone in the bunker, but not for long, so Sam needs this chance.

"Dean, can we talk?"

Dean looks up at his brother from where he sits on the edge of his bed. He taps his knee, releases a breath. They both know what this is.

"Are you gonna do more than talk?" Dean asks. It's not what Sam expects. "What?"

"Whatever's on your mind, are you ever gonna do something about it?" Dean asks.

Sam stares back at his brother. He thinks. Hard. He's flipped back and forth for months. If he tells you how he feels, it's over. Things will never be the same between the three of you. It'll confuse you. It might even hurt you. It'll hurt Dean. Sam loves you both, if in very different ways.

So Sam is a bit deflated when he raises his resigned gaze and meets his brother's. "No."

After a moment, Dean nods. "Then we've got nothing to talk about."

But... Sam wants not to want you. Not to love you. Deep, deep down, a large chunk of him feels that he shouldn't have to hide himself. That you have a right to know the depths of what he feels, and what he feels for you.

"I see you're not convinced," Dean says dryly. Sam is silent, until Dean sighs and beckons him over. Sam obliges and sits down next to his older brother, the man he's looked up to (at least metaphorically) his whole life.

"I'd give my life for you. You know that. Right, Sammy?" Dean says. "If I couldn't tear the world apart, I'd lay myself out flat."

Sam sighs. "Dean..." Of fucking course he knows that. Dean already had given his life for him once. Remembering that only adds to Sam's guilt.

Dean meets Sam's gaze directly then. "But this is where I draw the line. She's my line," he says. His face is almost stoic, but his eyes are filled with unyielding fire. "I'm not layin' down on that. Not for you. Not for anyone."

Sam's heart clenches with every kind of pain, but he's also never respected his brother more. He nods. "I get it."

"No, you really fucking don't," Dean says. He's more than serious. "I mean it, Sam. I'll break your damn nose."

After a long moment, Sam nods. He knew Dean loved you. Of course he did. But this is the first time Sam truly understands how deeply. How completely. It's more than jealousy can fathom.

Sam realizes then that he lost, even before he began.

AN: Whew! 😮‍💨 I got way deeper into this than I expected to. Poor Sam. 😭 But I hope this scratched your angsty itch, my dear!

Read the Sequel

Here's the requested sequel to this: Sam crosses the line.

Also, if you want to read the reverse of this (Dean is in love with Sam's girlfriend): Dean gives you an impossible choice.

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean Tag List:

@hobby27 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @emily-winchester @deans-baby-momma @melancholictearz @luvs4dria @nic-kolas @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin

@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @beskarfilms @skyesthebomb @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @iamsapphine

#ask me stuff #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #being deans one exception #sam in love with deans girlfriend #sam winchester #sam winchester imagine #sam and dean #angst #unrequited love #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #spn #supernatural #zepskies answers

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hi darling 🥰 I love, absolutely love the way you write Eddie and I have an idea for a fic! Maybe reader is Eddie's best friend forever (she has the same style, taste in music, also plays D&D, has tattoos, colorful hair) she is also in love with Eddie, but for some reason she thinks Eddie is attracted to cheerleaders and would never pay attention to her sooo she gets quiet and closed off, she's hurt and sad, she feels not enough but our dear boy finally gets the truth out of her and shows her his love, that she's the only one who really matters to him 🥹 If you are ok with it they have romantic sex but no pressure! Love ya!

AN | Friends to lovers! Fools in love! Requited pining 🥺🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He had a pretty smile. A really fuckin’ pretty smile.

It had been one of the first things you’d noticed about him when you met him as an awkward pre-teen. Now it was one of your favorite things about him. Among everything else, but you know, that wasn’t important. Sure, you were in love with Eddie Munson, also known as your best friend, but that was beside the point. Well…maybe it was the whole point.

But none of that mattered. Because while you were in love with your dorky, funny, and hot best friend, nothing was ever going to change. While you were like him in so many ways, and people always presumed the two of you were dating (to which Eddie liked to remind people that you were platonic with a capital p), you were absolutely not his type. God, it's brutal out here.

No, his type was soft, ultra feminine, pastel pretty girls, bonus points if they were cheerleaders. If you had to sum it down to a singular person, Chrissy Cunningham fit the bill. And, honestly, you couldn’t even blame him. Not only was she pretty, smart, and funny, she was also kind. She’d never had so much as a singular rude thing to say and that made you want to hate her even more. Eddie was infatuated with her and all you were was his best friend. And it fucking sucked.

No matter how hard you tried to get over him, by hooking up with other people, trying to expand your interests to include other people, and even - for just a horrible moment - you’d tried to change yourself to be more his type, it never worked. Your thoughts, feelings - your heart - always went back to him.

Eventually you’d had enough and decided that it was time to make a change. Even though you knew it would break your heart, you decided that this was the only way you’d ever get over him.

You had to create a divide, to set a distance and boundaries between the two of you. It was going to hurt at first, but that would pass, hopefully, one day and perhaps you’d both be better.

That was the plan in your head anyway…too bad life decided not to play by your little plan.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey sweetheart,” ugh. Your heart cracked at the sound of the sweet pet name he’d always called you. Normally you liked it…normally when you weren’t trying to avoid him. He slid into the seat next to you, elbow on the table as he rested his chin in his hand. You could feel him staring at you before he reached over and delicately twisted a lock of your hair around his pinky, “new color. I like purple, it looks pretty.”

“T-thanks,” you swallowed thickly before staring down at your tray, your appetite slowly disappearing, “did you need something?”

“Umm duh,” he teased, “it’s Friday night, aka movie night, and I am making sure you remember since you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. Which I won’t take personally, unless it continues on.”

“Oh,” you hadn’t forgotten movie night. It had been a tradition for the last five years, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face a night alone with him. You drummed your fingers along the table, “I-I can’t tonight. Sorry, Eddie, I…forgot.”

“You forgot movie night?” his entire face fell and as you shrugged your shoulders and nodded slightly, “but we always…have movie night. How-”

“Look, I’m sorry,” you allowed yourself one little look at the boy before feeling your heart drop. You’d never seen such a sad look on his face before. You grabbed your bag before standing up, “I just forgot, I’m sorry. I…I’ll see you around.”

You were off and out of the cafeteria before he could say anything. You left him sitting there, staring after you with a heartbroken expression. You’d never forgotten, you’d never turned him down before. Not until today anyway.

Eddie decided that he wouldn’t think too much of it. It was only the first time and maybe you really did have something else pressing to do. He wasn’t going to freak out yet; he was sure things would be back to normal order shortly.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Except Eddie was wrong. Very wrong.

Not only you had feigned that you’d forgotten movie night, you soon seemed to forget every plan and usual things done with Eddie. Whenever you saw him, you ducked around a corner or walked the other, or hid in the girls’ bathroom. You never answered the phone when he called your house, and never appeared to be home when he stopped by - which he knew was a lie.

You’d gone from being thick as thieves to slowly drifting apart, and Eddie was scared that he was going to lose you forever. Maybe it was dramatic, but he couldn’t imagine a life without you in it….he’d even wager to say it wasn’t worth living. Call him dramatic, which you only did, but he wasn’t just going to accept you walking out of his life without some sort of answer.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was another afternoon of suffering through the mundane classes at Hawkins High. At least lunch afforded you some to go outside, to breathe and get some fresh air. You were sitting at a small table by yourself, sketchbook open and pencil in hand, but yourself found yourself lacking inspiration. It wasn’t until you looked up and stared off into the distance that you noticed Eddie. A small sigh escaped your lips as you watched him stalk off into his secluded little spot behind the school…with Chrissy in tow.

The two of them were laughing about something, and that just served to make your blood boil. Why would Eddie even need you when he had pretty, perfect little Chrissy at his beck and call? He wouldn’t….he wouldn’t need you anymore.

You slammed the sketchbook shut, but not before looking down at what you had mindlessly created. Of course. It was a quick sketch of Eddie, something you’d done a million times before, but today it just served to make the bile rise in your throat.

This was harder than you ever dreamed it would be. You missed him…you really fucking missed him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You almost jumped when the chair across from you was pulled out. It was a quiet afternoon in the library, and you’d been the only one working in there…until now. You looked up and frowned when you realized it was Eddie. He gave you a small smile before slipping into the seat, “hey.”

“I’m studying,” you pointed to your books as if it wasn’t obvious enough, “do you mind?”

“Are you coming to Hellfire tonight?” you’d skipped out on the last couple of meetings, feeding one of the younger boys some excuse as to why you weren’t able to make it. It seemed to placate them well enough, but Eddie wasn’t buying it. You sighed lightly before shaking your head.

“I can’t,” you lied, “I’ve got this big test I’m studying for, I just don’t have the time.”

“Funny,” he mused thoughtfully, “that’s exactly what you told Dustin last time.”

“I have multiple classes and different tests,” you hissed, “besides, they’re AP classes, which require more work than the same basic pre-calc class you’re taking for the third time.”

And oh. That was a shitty low blow and you both knew it. You hated how it sounded as soon the words left your mouth. You didn’t mean any of it - you were just angry and wanted him to leave you alone and figured that might work. But Eddie, steadfast and sweet Eddie, wasn’t moved.

“This will be the third meeting in a row you’ve missed,” he whispered, “you know the rules - three missed meetings and you’re out. And rules are rules, even when it’s you.”

“Fine,” you grabbed your books and shoved them into your book bag, “kick me out then, that’s fine. I’ll live.”

Okay, there was absolutely something going on that you weren’t letting on about. Eddie knew you better than that; you’d never just miss Hellfire for no reason and just not care about being kicked out. That was absolutely not you.

“Wait -”

“No,” you hissed through gritted teeth and stalked out of the library. But Eddie wasn’t made. If anything, he was more determined to figure out what was going on.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late but you weren’t sleeping just yet. You couldn’t - your mind was way too loud and incessant for that. Truthfully you hadn't slept well in weeks, but you’d adapted to living under a cloud of tiredness.

It was the loud tapping at your window that snapped you wide away as you looked up from where your head bent down and stared at a textbook. You had no clue what the noise was, and wondered if you should ignore the sound. But then it came again and you knew that it wouldn’t stop until you examined what was going on.

“You open the window, or I’ll do it myself,” the voice from outside reached your ears and you quickly pulled the curtains back. There was Eddie Munson, perched on the roof outside your window, ready to open the window himself.

“Eddie,” you decided to take mercy on him and opened it so he could come inside. He landed without any grace on your floor, almost tripped over his own feet, “it’s past midnight! What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see you,” he insisted and you sighed as you sat down on your bed, shaking your head at him. He dropped to his knees in front of you and reached for your hand, which you just pulled away, “what is going on, sweetheart? And don’t lie to me and say it’s nothing. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, and we both know it. I just want to know what I did, so I can fix it, I want to make things better. Please, let me fix it.”

“Eddie,” tears had already pearled up and run down your cheeks. Of course he wanted to make things better, he was still willing to try despite how terrible you’d been to him, “I-I don’t think you can fix it.”

“You don’t know that,” he insisted meekly, “you just have to tell me what it is.”

“It’s you,” you breathed and watched as his face turned into a look of confusion, “you’re the problem. And there’s no way to fix this, not anymore.”

“I’m the problem?” he looked so taken aback, so hurt. He had no clue what he could have done to hurt you or upset you, at least not knowingly. He’d never hurt you; he’d take the pain and brunt a million times over before letting you get hurt, “what do you mean? W-what did I do?”

You wiped at your cheeks with the back of your hand and shook your head before exhaling shakily. You’d already made a fool out of yourself, might as well get it all out there in the open, “I’m in love with you.”

A heavy, thick silence fell over the two of you as he watched you closely and you just sniffled and looked anywhere but at him. He spoke up when he couldn't stand it anymore, “what’s so bad about that?”

“Eddie,” you turned back to him and noticed he had the softest and most gentle of smiles on his face. That just confused you more, “I can’t be your best friend and be so in love with you and watch you fawn over girls and date them and eventually…forget about me.”

“Wait, I’m confused…what do you mean other girls?”

“Pretty girls, the ones that you like, like Chrissy,” you shrugged and tried to act like your heart wasn’t completely broken, “I saw you with her.”

“I don’t…I don’t like Chrissy,” he confessed as your brows knitted in confusion, “she’s nice and I was with her, to sell her some stuff for a party, and another time for some advice.”

“Everyone likes her…” you shrugged lightly, “you can tell me the truth, that you’re into her and all those other pretty cheerleaders. Besides, what advice could you possibly get from her? It’s fine if you’re into her, Eddie, it just…I don’t think I can be your friend and have to see you with her all the time. Maybe that’s really selfish, but it’s true.”

“Stop, please - just listen to me for a moment. I was asking her about you,” he professed and you looked to find his eyes searching you. Your mouth opened and closed a few times and Eddie took advantage to brush a few rogue locks of hair out of your face, “because you’d been avoiding me and acting like you hate me. I was asking her what I could do to get you to talk to me again.”

“Oh…a-and what did she say?”

“She told me to be honest with you,” it was his turn to breathe shakily, his eyes soft but nervous, “to get it all out there and tell you that I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes snapped to his, positive you hadn’t heard him correctly. There was no way that he said what you had been so desperately wanting to hear for years. This had to be you trying to manifest your dream into reality. He laughed nervously when you didn’t say anything, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“What did you say?” your voice was so soft and small as you looked at him nervously, “Eddie?”

“I said I was in love with you,” he plopped onto the floor, sitting in front of you as he waited for you to say something - anything.

“Do you mean it?”

“Yes,” he promised, “of course I do. I’d never lie to you. I…I thought you knew, I thought it was so obvious. And then when you started pushing me away, I got scared. I thought I was going to lose you forever.”

You slid off the bed and flopped onto the floor so you were sitting across from him, your leg resting against yours. You swallowed the lump in your throat before leaning in to him, “I thought I was going to lose you forever too.”

He exhaled through his nose sharply, making a small sound of amusement before looking at you intensely, “so…where does that leave us? If you still don’t want anything to do with me, I can leave. Whatever you’d want, I respect.”

Your silence almost killed him as you seemed to be mulling over something. Every moment seemed to take an eternity as he waited for you to speak. He was braced and ready to leave, figuring you really were done with him.

But then, suddenly and surprising the both of you, you leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t even a proper kiss, more of a brush of lips, saccharine and shy. You sat back down, your entire face and body flushing with warmth as you looked at him nervously. You found the biggest and most lovesick smile on his face as his bambi eyes softened.

He reached for you, his hands settling on your waist before he pulled you into his lap. You gasped in surprise at the suddenness of his action, finding yourself face to face with him. He settled a hand on your face, tenderly brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch, sighing softly as the feel of his soft palm and calloused fingertips.

He leaned in and you couldn't help but wonder what was coming next. Was he going to kiss you and then call it a day? Was he just going to leave? Was he-

Eddie quickly answered your question by kissing you, his hand going from your cheek to tenderly cup your neck. You leaned into his touch and let him take the lead. He didn't stop kissing you until you were dizzied and drunk off his touch. You imagined this so many times, and so many ways, but nothing compared to the real thing.

"I love you," he gently cradled your face in his hands and it felt like he was looking into the depths of your being, into your soul. You wrapped your hands around his wrists and blinked back your tears, “I mean it, sweetheart. It’s always been you. And I’m sorry that I ever did anything to make you like it wasn’t you.”

“It’s been you too,” you whispered softly, causing his cheeks to flush a pretty shade of pink, “always you, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he sighed softly before kissing you again, “I’ve been waiting so long to hear you say that, sweetheart. You’ve been my dream girl since we met, you know.”

“That’s a strong way of putting it…” you wanted to hide your warm face, but he wouldn’t let you. He shook his head softly, clearly disagreeing with you.

“But it’s true,” he insisted softly, “can I kiss you again?”

“I don’t ever want you to stop,” you confessed sweetly, causing his heart to practically melt, “I want everything with you, Eddie.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” you promised, taking advantage of his momentary shock to kiss him again. You could feel him smiling against your lips before he kissed along your jaw and down your neck, biting at the delicate skin to leave behind a haze of pretty lavender bruises. You already felt like you’d died and gone to heaven, “Eddie.”

“Can I make love to you?”

“Yes,” you pulled back to your lips and kissed him gently, “please.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie muson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #st

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tojifile · 5 months

Text

@Muzan Kibutsuji . . . (＾＾＃)

Tags: husband!muzan, emotionally dependent reader, f!reader, violence, suggestive, manipulation, muzan is taller than you, mansplaining if you squint, huge daddy issues, toxic relationship

A/N: Thinking about husband!muzan and his wife who’s emotionally dependent on him. She’s a huge crybaby but Muzan loves how dependent she is on him. He loves the dominance he has over her. THIS IS FOR WOMEN WITH DADDY ISSUES WHO WANT TO BE TAKEN CARE OF IN THE MOST TOXIC WAY IMAGINABLE. The relationship and everything is super toxic but I love those and honestly, red flags get me going! (I am a bad example of what you should do with your life, do not copy) Merry Christmas Eve to my ho ho hos! 🎄

p.s. an anon just requested for a Muzan’s wife runs away after finding out so that may be after this, just know that I love toxic relationships with guys like Muzan :)

husband!muzan who only goes out at night. He tells you he has a skin condition that started when he was a kid. There was no known cure, so his “company” constantly tries to find information on possible cures for people with the same disease.

husband!muzan who seemed like the perfect partner, dotting on you, always buying you gifts. He’d buy you things that reminds him of you which made you all the more attached. You loved his attention and how he constantly babies you.

husband!muzan who you caught consuming a woman during a stroll. It was already past 7PM but you decided to go out for a walk. Everything was good, the streets were bustling with different kinds of people, all smiling and happy—that was until you got to a rather secluded area.

You heard loud cries coming from a narrow alley. The screams lured you in. At the back of the alley was where you saw your husband—Muzan Kibutsuji, devouring a helpless young woman. He immediately sensed your presence and turned around.

He swiftly got in front of you and covered your mouth with his palm. “Hello, my love, I trust you enjoyed your evening stroll?” He spoke, his voice dripping with an eerie yet sweet, confusing feeling. You only looked at him with teary eyes in response.

husband!muzan who tries to reason with you but he didn’t even need to say anything. You still wanted him.

Such a shame that you had to find out about his secret, “Kibutsuji-kun..” was all you could mutter after he removed his palm from your mouth. You then started to cry in his arms as he caressed your hair, calming you down. God, he was so sweet towards you.

A few lines of blood dripped down the corners of his mouth. He looked down at you with a soft smile on his face. His suit and pants were stained with the blood of his victim but that didn’t bother him.

Most—no, all of his past wives would’ve been crying and yelling about how much of a liar and monster he is and/or running away. But here you were in his arms, you cried because you didn’t know how to react. You were scared that he’d leave you because you found out his secret.

husband!muzan who is happy to know that you’ve truly submitted yourself to him. He loves the feeling of being in control. It was adorable, the way you melted into his arms, even after you saw him consuming another human being.

husband!muzan who promises to never hurt nor leave you. He just loved controlling you a bit too much. It got him excited, knowing that he comes home to such a cute little human wife who he doesn’t have to hide his true form from.

husband!muzan who then escorts you home while holding you by the waist. Telling you about how you shouldn’t go out at night without him. He doesn’t want other demons to mistake you for a lowly human.

husband!muzan who was just really turned on by the events. As soon as you got home he had you on the bed, kissing you softly. He didn’t even have to use force with you. You were just so happy to submit to the man who gave you affection.

husband!muzan who sometimes lets his fangs sink in your skin. Just for you to tremble and whimper under his touch. He loved it when you would cling onto him and he loves the little noises you’d make whether it be from pain or pleasure.

husband!muzan who tells himself that he’s only staying with you and treating you like this because you’re a valuable asset, one that could keep his facade going.

husband!muzan who slowly submits to your affection genuinely, especially after that night.

husband!muzan who always makes you feel safe and taken care of. He might be the demon king but he can’t let his wife be let down. Muzan Kibutsuji was too much of a loving husband to let that happen.

husband!muzan who treats you like a child that needs to be guided. He can’t have you forming your own thoughts now, right? That would corrupt your innocent little mind. He couldn’t let you turn against him now that he was so attached to you.

husband!muzan who loves to pamper you like a little doll. He loves the idea of using you over and over. Although he doesn’t understand why he’s so attached to you, he just lets it happen. You were still a benefit to him anyway.

And finally.. husband!muzan who has you numb every time he’s had a bad night. Getting you to do nasty things with him, knowing you’re always so needy for his attention.

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a-aexotic · 1 year

Note

could you do a rafe imagine where reader is a pouge and she’s working at the country club as a server or as a bust gal and kelce says something about her but rafe secretly likes the reader and he defends her and gets pissed at his friends for talking bad about her or saying something degrading or ojectifyinfg about her and then the reader finds out rafe defended her from topper ?? Bc topper is secretly kind (apart from the fire tbh) and reader confronts rafe about why he defended her

pairing. rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings. sooo much fluff, degrading language towards women, a fight (kinda), out of character top/rafe, lmk if i missed anything!

summary. rafe has a crush on you and topper makes it his top priority to get you two together after you confess your feelings, too.

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

You were exhausted at this time of day and you just wanted to go home and rest. Your eyes were heavy and your feet hurt from these stupid heels the club makes you wear. You had one last table before you could clock out; you could already feel the warm bath you were going to draw tonight.

Until you saw who you were serving; Kook royalty themselves. Rafe, Topper, Kelce and a few guys you don't recall the names of. You prepared yourself for the longest hour serving these boys.

You walked up to them, a big smile on your lips. If you were going to serve some snotty Kooks you might as well get a good tip. "Hey, um. I'm Y/N, and I'm your waiter for tonight. Can I get you started with any drinks?"

You handed out the menus and you could already feel their stares at your body and face, making you feel a tiny bit self conscious. In the corner of your eye you saw Kelce turn to one of the boys to whisper something and he immediately turned red before letting out a chuckle.

You saw Topper and Rafe make eye contact before Rafe rolled his eyes, making Topper sigh.

"Sure, for me, I don't know about the others though." Topper nodded politely as you smiled.

"Yeah, I'm super thirsty." One of the boys had commented as the whole table (minus Topper and Rafe) erupted in laughter. You were disgusted and honestly disappointed, I mean, how low could these jerks get?

Rafe cleared his throat and the whole table became quiet once again. "Me and Top are going to get some Old-Fashion's. I don't know about the others."

"Make that three more." Kelce added and you nodded politely, jotting it down quickly on the notepad.

"Okay, I will be right back with your drinks. Take a look at the menus, alright?" You walked away with another big smile and as you turned, it immediately dropped.

You didn't necessarily hate Kooks; well, not to the extent of JJ or Pope. You could honestly stand them; sure, they made you uncomfortably sometimes but at least at the end of it, you have a good tip.

"Take a look at those menus, more like take a look at that ass!" The boy had said and Kelce and other one let out another laugh. Rafe couldn't stand it.

The jokes weren't funny and were low blows, they were some of the worst jokes he'd heard in months. It was stupid. Rafe held in all his anger because he didn't want to cause a scene, especially here or in front of you.

He's been trying to make a move on you for months; giving extra tips, complimenting you, asking if you could help with the golf cart. And now all his hard was going down the drain because you're going to think he's shallow and idiotic because of his 'friends.'

The only person he actually liked right now was Topper and that's saying a lot. He felt bad for you as well. Rafe didn't really feel empathetic towards anyone but seeing you put on a fake smile and nod off the joke like it was nothing reminded him of someone.

"God what I would do to take her to bed." One of the boys sighed as the others agreed. Rafe bit his tongue as they continued.

"I'm sure she would," Kelce took a drink of his water. "If you tipped her enough."

"You're right, she's a Pogue. I'm sure she needs the money."

Rafe was disgusted. Is this really what they thought about? "Shut the fuck up, dude. That's not funny."

The table went quiet as the guy turned to Rafe. "What the fuck is your problem man, you've been in a bitch mood ever since we came in here. I mean, come on, it's a fucking joke."

"A joke? You call that a fucking joke?" Rafe started raising his voice. "You're the fucking joke here, dude. Who the fuck says that shit? Especially while she's literally over there."

Topper nodded. "Yeah, have some decency. Y/N's actually so sweet."

The two boys looked at each other before laughing. "Oh I see what's goin on here. You two are acting like you're all above this, above us, so she can see how gentleman-ly you are and let you tag team her, huh?"

"Not everything is about sex, dude. Maybe we actually think she's nice and a human being that deserves a little respect. She's, y'know, a living breathing human with thoughts in case you've forgot." Rafe was seeing red and he was about to throw a punch before Topper kicked his leg.

"What, dude? It's true." Rafe looked at Topper before he sighed.

"Let's just finish the drinks and then we can go, alright?" Topper was trying to calm things down and Rafe took a deep breath before nodding.

You had come back with all the drinks on a platter. You felt the shift in energy, it was a lot more tense now than it was. "Alright, have you guys figured out what you guys wanted to eat?"

You passed out the drinks.

"That would be it, can you uh, get the check please?" Rafe's voice was much softer and politer than usual and you nodded. You appreciated the manners; you don't see a lot of that in the country club.

"Okay, sure. I will be right back with the check." You smiled at him and his cheeks turned a little red as he turned away. Topper noticed this and was a little confused.

Rafe had never mentioned liking you in anyway. He was now wondering if he had just started liking you or if this was something that's been happening for a while now.

"Okay, Kelce, how much would you pay me if I went up to her and asked her out on a date?"

"Nothing, dude. You'll be getting the award, why would I have to pay?" Kelce responded, drinking a little of his drink.

Rafe flared his nostrils as he kept in his anger once again. He didn't want to blow up again, people were already staring.

"Dude, you won't do it." The other guy laughed. "You're a fuckin pussy."

"There's no way she'll say yes." Kelce added.

The other guy rolled his eyes, "How much do you wanna bet?"

Kelce laughed, "100$ easy, dude."

He laughed, "Okay, I'll be a 100$ richer."

"You're definitely going to lose that 100, man."

You came back and put the check down with a small smile. "Is that all boys?"

"Yes." Rafe quickly said, taking the check and putting his card in. The others exchanged looks. Before you could away, the boy had started to say something.

"Y/N, right?" He looked at your nametag then to your low V-cut shirt before looking back at your face. "I was wondering if you could let me take you out later this week, maybe... Saturday? I'm havin a big party, I'd just love for you to come."

Rafe was angry he felt like his eyes were going to bulge out of his eyelids as he stared daggers at the guy.

You stood there, a bit shocked. There were a few seconds before you could respond. "I would love to. But uh, I'm already dating someone."

"Really?" Topper looked confused, you'd never mentioned one. You glared down at him before smiling and nodding. Rafe felt like his world had come crashing down. You had a boyfriend?

"Yup, JJ. Two months!" You said dramatically. "Sorry... About that."

The guy looked pissed, turning away from you. "You weren't even that pretty anyway." He muttered.

Your eyes widened and immediately took that as your que to leave, walking away. "Okay.."

Rafe quickly got up after you, taking out his wallet and taking out a 20$, handing it to you.

Your eyes had widened at how much he was tipping. "Whoa, are you sure?"

"Very. My friends were douches to you and I apologize. I don't even know the other two dudes' names."

You laughed, the first real genuine laugh you've had all day. It was a like breathe of fresh air. "Me neither, but I can't take this, that's so much." You pushed away the money.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, you can." He put it in the pocket in your shirt before sighing. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

He walked away to the rest of his friends and you smiled at the nice gesture. Rafe, despite the opinion of your friends, was actually kinda sweet. I mean, he was sure as hell better than the rest of his friends (minus Topper).

"Dude, that took you long enough." You heard one of them groan.

"Shut up." You heard Rafe reply as you smiled to yourself. You immediately shook away the smile, sighing. Why was the Kook prince making you smile? Wow, you were in desperate need of a bath and a good meal, 8 hour shifts aren't your strong suit.

You were surprised and confused at Topper's words.

"Yeah, he was like, genuinely pissed. I've never seen him that mad and that's saying a lot."

Your eyebrows were furrowed, "Wait, wait. So he defended me?"

Topper looked at you like it was the most obvious thing of all. "That's what I've been saying for the last half an hour, have you been listening?"

You rolled your eyes at Topper's unnecessary sassiness, "Yes, Top, it's just been really hard to process."

"What's hard about it? Rafe has literally never had a soft spot for anyone except Wheeizie, like ever. And he's rich. He can spoil you and you're literally set for life-"

"Whoa, okay." You started laughing. "Let's not go that far. I am not marrying Rafe Cameron." ok girl...

"Okay but think about it." He smiled. "We could be like kinda related. If Sarah marries me... or if Rafe considers me a best friend, I could be like your brother-in-law."

You started laughing harder, "Sarah's not marrying you."

He didn't look too amused by that. "Okay, shut up, seriously. Rafe likes you."

The more you imagined his face and his smile, his dad outfits and the way he literally is an asshole to everyone except you, the more hot your face felt.

Topper smiled as he playfully pushed your shoulder making you laugh. "He's cute."

"Cute? Don't call say that to his face, he'll get all flustered and then roll his eyes."

You already imagine his face, making you laugh a little harder. "Okay, okay. If... if I were to like him back, how would I approach him?"

Topper sighed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Okay, uh. Maybe just talk to him and flirt before he asks you out."

"That's so obvious-"

"He tipped you a 20 last night and you're worried you're making it obvious? Are you serious?"

You rolled your eyes. You reminded yourself to talk to Topper about his attitude problem later because it's getting a bit much. "Okay. Fine. I will."

Other than being a waitress at the country club, some days they put you on the Beverage Cart duty. It was probably because they were short in staff that day but honestly you didn't mind. You'd rather be out on the golf course then cooped up in the restaurant. You also get double the tips than you would inside.

Plus, you had a cute golf outfit on with the cute visor; you felt like a true Kook.

As you were going around, selling drinks, you saw Topper and Rafe. Of course they were going to the club today; it was nice Saturday afternoon. You face palmed yourself. You already knew what Topper was going to do.

Topper saw you as well, a smirk forming on his lips. "Rafe, uh. Remember Y/N?"

Rafe felt himself blush at the mention of you. He shook it off, nodding. "Uh, yeah. Doesn't she work here?"

"Yep. Also, I was uh, talkin to her the other day and she called you cute."

Rafe's mouth flew open as he whipped his head towards Topper. "What?"

Topper smiled. "Yeah, she called you cute. Like, really cute. She was blushing and shit."

Rafe smiled and he didn't even feel it. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah, dude. And, oh! Speaking of the devil, there she is."

Rafe's eyes widened as he looked over at you and shook his head. "Oh, uh."

"I know you like her, man." Topper added as he looked to Rafe.

He shook his head. "No, I don't like her. I think she's cute."

Topper rolled his eyes. "And you blush around you, you stumble over your words, you tip her real good. You were practically on the floor kicking your feet in the air and blushing when I told you she said you were cute."

Rafe frowned at Topper's wording and before he could protest, he started pushing Rafe towards the cart. "Dude, hold on."

"Ask her out, man."

"Not now, dude, I've been plotting for months now, I can't just-"

"Dude, do you trust me?" Topper stopped and looked dead in the eyes.

"No." Rafe stated before Topper rolled his eyes for what seemed to be the fifty-th time that day.

"I don't care, now come on." He pushed Rafe towards the cart before grabbing the back of his collar, making him walk towards you. If this was any other situation, Rafe would've landed a punch to Top's jaw but he didn't wanna scare you off, so he kept his cool.

You stared the two as they approached the cart. They seemed too... normal. They were both smiling and you felt like they were plotting. You know for a fact that Topper is.

"Hey."

"Hi." They both said in union, making Rafe look back at Topper, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What can I get you two?" There was unnecessary awkwardness between the three of you as they both looked at each other.

"Two... sodas."

"Sodas?" You looked assumed. Were they 12?

Topper looked back at you. "Yes."

As you reached for the cooler, you heard Topper make an 'O' sound. You turned around.

"Oh shit. I forgot my wallet, I will be right back. Rafe, you stay here and get us the sodas, alright?"

Rafe looked back with his teeth gritted, a warning to Topper. "Topper."

He shrugged. "I'll be right back." He jogged away as you and Rafe made eye contact.

You knew that he knew what you had told Topper. And then, Rafe realized the same thing. He didn't know what Topper had told you but he just hopes it wasn't too embarrassing.

"Um. I never asked but um, what sodas do you want?"

"Ginger ale. I'm pretty Topper wants something girly like Diet Coke or something like that." Rafe mumbled the last part but you heard it. You let a horrendously loud laugh because you knew Topper would get a Diet Coke.

You suddenly felt embarrassed but it melted as you heard Rafe's small laugh as well. Butterflies filled your stomach as you heard him.

"Okay, then. One ginger ale and uh... a Diet Coke." You laughed a little after, making Rafe smile.

As you handed him the Ginger Ale, your hands touched and you felt like your face was on fire. You quickly pulled away.

"Hey, uh..." Rafe started. "Did Topper say anything about me?"

"In what way?"

"Um, I don't know... something involving you?" Rafe inquired as you smiled.

"Did he say anything to you about me?"

"Maybe." He dragged out the 'e' sound as you rolled your eyes at him playfully.

"Topper may have mentioned a few things about you. But they weren't bad. They were actually a little... admiring to hear."

He went red as he looked down at his feet. "Topper just loves to run his mouth."

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah. He definitely loves to gossip."

He laughed at your wording. "He said some stuff about you, too. It was... admiring, too."

Your cheeks had begun to hurt from smiling this hard and it'd been only a couple minutes.

"Okay." Rafe sighed. "Are we talking about the same thing-"

"Yes, we are. I think."

Rafe was going to have to push all his pride and ego just this time. "I think that you're really pretty... and if you're not with JJ, I'd love to take you out on a date."

You had forget he heard that part. "I'm not with JJ."

"Okay, then what do you say?"

"Yes, Rafe." You smiled at him and he swore his heart did a little flip at the sound of that.

"Okay," he sounded breathless.

You then turned in your cart, looking for a piece of paper and your pen. You found one and then wrote down your number. You turned back and handed it to him. "Text me and then we can sort out the details, okay?"

"Yeah, for sure."

Topper finally walked back, wallet in hand, a big grin on his tanned face. He looked down at the paper in his hand and gave Rafe a proud pat on the back.

"Here's your Diet Coke," you held in your laugh as you gave the drink to Topper. Rafe smiled back at you as Topper opened it quickly and took a big gulp.

"Thank you. I knew you'd know my favorite drink, Y/N." He took out a 5 dollar bill and gave it to you before winking and you felt yourself cringe at Topper as you took the 5.

He and Rafe walked away and you stood there, your heart beating fast as you watched them walk away.

"What'd I say? Trust me, Rafe, I promise it'll work out and look, it worked out!"

"Yeah, for once, dude."

"Oh, shut up."

You heard their argument and laughed to yourself, getting back into your cart to drive to the next course.

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ghouljams · 7 months

Note

your post about Gaz's chronic pain reminds me about my spouse and our friends who are military veterans and the kind of chronic pain they all cope with. Like if the military is good at anything it's good at creating disabilities. My spouse has chronic back pain from falling off jets on multiple different occasions, I can only imagine what kind of pain poor Gaz deals with falling from Helicopters and stuff.

Honestly I'd be more shocked if they all didn't have some sort of injury they've learned to cope with. Like Soap being partially deaf in one ear because of an explosion he messed up on. Or Ghost dealing with shooting nerve pain because a particularly nasty scar got pulled wrong while he was stretching or moving too quickly.

-Hot mess rambler Anon

Yes yes yes yes yes 141 with Chronic injuries they're lying about to medical staff.

Gaz absolutely has joint pain from falling out of a helo. You can't tell me that hanging from that rope didn't fuck up his back a little. Didn't give him an inner ear problem that makes him nauseous at high altitudes. He absolutely is hurting when there's bit pressure changes, downing a few aspirin at breakfast just to cope with the day's exercises. Strikes me as a very "suffer in silence" sort of soldier. Maybe complains to Soap about his back hurting.

Soap definitely has a good ear, caught too many explosions in the side of the head to have everything fully functional. It's not bad enough to take him out of the line of duty so he doesn't say anything. Price makes sure to stand on his good side when he gives orders. The 141 learns BSL and excuses it as field practical. I think he has some nerve damage in his fingers from shocking himself, snipping himself on wires, just the wear and tear of working in demo. It's not anything he needs to report except when he gets a tremor and swears at his hand until it stops.

Ghost catches the worst of it. Definitely nerve damage, the kind that makes it hard to move on bad days, that sort of twinges on good days. He's got a menagerie of chronic injuries. Joint pain, muscle pain, scar tissue in his lung, sticky ribs. But it's the mental wounds that are worse: he can't stand flashing lights, has nonverbal episodes, is bad in crowds. Other things too, I think he has a nervous stomach, I think he has texture issues and certain smells that trigger him. He can't break his routine or he- He just can't break his routine, it's very important that he doesn't break his routine.

Price too has injuries. His knees aren't what they used to be, his smoking is starting to catch up to him, some days he's thankful for desk work. He's dislocated his shoulder too many times and sometimes it sticks wrong and he gets pain for hours. Very grit your teeth and bear it for himself, but if any of his boys complain he puts them on bed rest. Similar to Soap I think he has some hearing loss, bombs and bullets will do that to you. You'll never catch him in medical, not unless he's dragged there barely conscious.

#ghoul speaks #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley cod #ghost cod #captain john price #john price mw2 #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #kyle garrick mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #injury tw #yeah I think they're all a little fucked up medically speaking

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ssahotchnerr · 1 year

Note

aaron and jack are sick so reader takes care of them🥺

cough medicine

🥺 wc; 1.1k cw; mild descriptions of illness, established relationship, fluff <3

midway through the morning, you received a call from jack's school.

you honestly weren't surprised; this morning, jack had been very unusually quiet for himself. during breakfast, which he merely picked at, he had barely uttered a word. it had taken him longer to get out of bed and to get dressed. on a normal day, either you or aaron, would simply go into his room once- just as his father, jack had always been a stickler for routine, creating the habit of being an easy riser- but today, you had gone into his room three times to make sure he was awake.

of course to be safe, you had checked his temperature. he wasn't running a fever, and he was up for attending school, not wanting to stay home when you asked. in addition, the cough he was sporting was only mild. so, you made sure to pack a ziploc of cough drops in his backpack, along with a note to his teacher to allow their usage throughout the day, and drove him to school as normal. you had thrown in during drop off, that if he began to feel worse, to please go to the nurse and ask to be picked up.

he had clearly taken your advice, and seeing him waiting for you in the office, feverish and flushed, you felt guilty for not keeping him home to begin with.

luckily his school wasn't far and signing him out went rather quickly, and so it was only a matter of time before he was comfortable in his pajamas, the two of you lounging on the couch with a movie on.

jack was curled up strictly against your side, his cheek pressed against your arm. a blanket enveloped the both of you as chills had overwhelmed his body, freezing despite the layer of sweat persistent on his forehead.

he kept dozing in and out, and as you were sitting there, you sent off a quick text to aaron.

10:37 am: jack's sick :( just picked him up from school.

twenty minutes passed, and aaron still hadn't responded to your message. strange, you thought to yourself, but chalked it up to the probability that he was most likely stuck in a meeting. however, as soon as the idea crossed your mind, you heard the front door unlocking. low and behold, aaron entered the apartment.

just as jack, his face was completely flushed. the look on his face was utter defeat, accompanied by slight annoyance.

"look," you commented, jack's head perking up a bit. "it looks like you're not the only one who's caught a bug."

aaron opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut short by a fit of coughing. unlike jack, it was far from mild- the kind of cough that sounded like it hurt.

and it must've, because aaron visibly winced once the coughing ceased. he quickly detoured into the kitchen to grab water, and shortly after you heard his footsteps distancing as he walked down the hall.

leaving jack on the couch, but not leaving without planting a kiss on the top of his head and recovering him with the blanket, you followed aaron into your bedroom.

"diagnosis?" you asked teasingly, small amusement in your voice. knowing aaron, you knew what he was about to say.

aaron playfully rolled his eyes, undoing his tie and letting it hang from his neck before answering as expected, "i'm fine. i could've pushed through the rest of the day, but dave nearly threw me out of the building."

you narrowed your eyes slightly, taking note of his awfully scratchy voice. you placed your hand on his cheek, before moving it to his forehead. your eyebrows furrowed at the heat you were met with. "remind me to thank him."

again, aaron responded with an eye roll. "i'm fi-"

"nope." you cut him off, pulling his tie off him yourself. "just like your son, get in your pjs. now." your lips drew into a line, giving him a minor, pitiful smile.

as instructed, and knowing better than to argue with you, aaron changed and quickly joined where you and jack had been camping out. he took his place at your other side, attached to your hip similar to jack. his face was fully tucked into your neck, an arm lazily draped over your waist. his fingers also found home underneath your shirt, directly above your hip; his fingertips mindlessly drawing patterns on your skin.

if anything, he was attempting to distract himself from how horribly he was currently felt.

once the movie ended, you rounded up your boys, declaring it was time for round of medicine. you received small groans of protest from both in the process.

the three of you crowded in the bathroom, jack seated on the counter as aaron leaned against the doorway. you poured a small dosage of children's cough medicine for jack, before doing the same for aaron but for adults.

once the small cup was in hand, jack's expression fell into one of apprehensiveness- he hated the taste of medicine. his eyes even teared up a bit, his fever definitely not helping in the idea of taking such.

"i know it tastes really gross, but it'll make you feel better." you offered, giving him a solemn yet hopeful look. "i promise."

aaron also knew just the thing to help. "here, we'll go at same time?" he took his medicine cup from you, holding it to his lips. "ready?"

on the count of three, aaron downed his batch of medicine. jack displayed a moment of hesitancy, but followed soon after.

while jack mainly resembled haley, you often found aaron in almost all his expressions. and this was no different- you had a pair of twins right before you.

the two of them had made the exact same expression- eyes squeezed shut, noses scrunched at the tangy taste, before a distasteful look covered their faces. you had a glass of water waiting for jack too, which he eagerly accepted.

you resisted the urge to smile, silently admiring the two you would go to the ends of the world for, the two you loved so immensely. but your heart also just about snapped into two pieces, the fact that both of them were sick weighing heavily on it.

"c'mon." aaron hoisted jack off the counter, grabbing your hand and giving it a tight squeeze in replacement of a kiss. while he would never deny your contact while sick, he simply refrained from giving you kisses in awareness of his germs, much to your dismay. but, he did always make up for the lack of affection once better. "what movie are we watching next?"

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch imagine #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fanfiction

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missmonsters2 · 1 year

Text

Your Touch is My Shelter

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: 6 months later, Natasha returns from the dead. It's a tightly kept secret as it's unknown how she returned, but everyone claws and fights about who will keep watch over her like savages. You're far down the list of people who should protect her, but you find yourself unable to leave her be.

Warnings/Tags: hurt/comfort. undisclosed trauma. physical and mental signs of trauma. angst. somber assisted bath time. sad hair braiding. emphasis on hurt AND comfort.

Note: This takes place after endgame :-) the dates might be inaccurate idk i did my best 🥲 ha-ha enjoy 👁️👁️

Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Count: 5.2k

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

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You heard the news through Bruce.

Well, it was through Bruce telling Pepper, and you just happened to be at the coffee machine getting shitty coffee. The quality drastically dropped since Tony was gone, and you've been putting off telling Pepper she needed to literally buy anything else.

You didn't really know how long was the appropriate time for someone to grieve before you could ask if they could buy another brand of coffee.

Tony was gone.

A part of you thinks you keep putting off telling Pepper because then you'd have to face—really face—he was gone.

Steve was gone.

What did it matter, really, in the grand scheme of things? Coffee was just coffee, and it'd probably taste fine if you just put a shitload of sugar and creamer in it.

Vision was gone.

Honestly, you only really noticed because it was the same brand as whatever was stocked up at the Avengers Compound.

Natasha was gone.

But perhaps the coffee always tasted bad at the Compound and it had nothing to do with Tony being gone. Natasha used to bring coffee into the office most days for people, and Clint filled in the other days.

Maybe Tony Stark just liked shitty coffee, and you were only now just noticing it.

Natasha was back.

Your hand faltered at the coffee machine, spilling a little of it on your hand, and the burn stung immediately.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked as he noticed you inhale a sharp breath.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You smiled awkwardly at him before looking at Pepper. "Morgan's fine. She just has the flu and her fever's gone down. Make sure she gets plenty of rest and fluids. I'm going to set up a humidifier for her and help her settle into bed with a movie and wait for her to fall asleep before I head out."

Pepper let out a heavy breath, putting her hand over her chest in relief. "Oh, perfect. Thank you so much for coming suddenly. I just—Morgan doesn't really like going to the hospital, and suddenly she started throwing up and having a fever—"

"It's fine, Pepper," you waved off her ramblings after you wiped what you spilled on the counter. "You can always call me if you need me."

"Seriously, I think I might just employ you full-time as a live-in doctor if you say that," Pepper joked, and you laughed.

"I am already your live-in doctor, just for one of your research labs. instead."

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You don't think about Natasha—at least, you try not to.

You heard things here and there about it through Pepper. Apparently, she's being held in a government facility similar to The Raft, detained like some criminal they needed to study instead of the war hero who sacrificed everything to save the world.

It made you sick to your stomach.

But you hear that Clint, Bruce, and Nick Fury have been fighting to get custody of her, so you don't think about it. There were people who knew Natasha far better than you did and were way closer to her than you were.

She was in good hands.

So, you continue on with your daily routine to pass your monotonous days, unaware you're waiting for some kind of update.

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The next time you heard about Natasha Romanoff, it was Clint and Bruce cornering you at your lab.

"What?" You panicked, tensing up. "Why me?"

"You're the only person Natasha ever sought out to treat her," Clint answered, and you felt even more lost at the fact he knew. "Natasha allows medical professionals onsite to help her, but there were times she left to go see you. That has to mean something."

But, of course, he knew. He was Natasha's...best friend. And Clint was an incredibly nosy person, even if Natasha didn't tell him.

"I've only treated her a handful of times—literally only five times. I don't know her that well," you shook your head, trying to walk around them. "I didn't even know she had a sister until you told me."

"Please," Clint begged. "I'm fighting to get her out, and the doctors they have looking after her are shady and callous with her. I can only visit her with Nick's influence, but it's not enough to get her out of there."

"And what do you suppose I can do?"

"You're a renowned cellular biologist," Bruce cut in. "If they're holding her for research, we want someone on our side who will at least treat her like a human being. The faster we get answers, the faster we can get her out."

"Please," Clint begged again. "Natasha needs help. She's...different. And it's only going to get worse if she remains in there. She's not talking, and they won't let her go until they can find some answers."

It felt wrong.

You don't want to study Natasha Romanoff like an animal. Despite being a scientist with an inquisitive mind, you don't care about how she returned.

But it sounded like Natasha would be researched whether you liked it or not. And if that was the case, you do wonder how the other doctors may be treating her.

"Fine, we're going first thing in the morning," you gritted out, unable to block out the handful of memories of times you've treated her.

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June 2012

"Oo, that looks painful," you hissed in sympathy as a redhead with a busted lip and nasty gash on her temple entered the med bay.

There was a snort that sounded like a half-grunt. "It looks worse than it feels. I hope I'm not intruding, but Tony said I should see you to be treated."

"Natasha, right?" You asked slowly, gesturing to a seat for her to take as you grabbed some medical supplies.

"Yes," Natasha replied, equally slow with caution.

"Tony talks about you a lot," you tried to reassure her of whatever paranoia she might have. It probably didn't help that Natasha was still in her catsuit and probably would've preferred to be called by her alias.

"Well, don't believe everything he says," Natasha gives a light but somewhat tight smile.

"Oh, so you aren't a unique woman with high intellect, sneaky, and rightfully smug?" You teased, and it was flattering that you could make a superhero laugh.

You began treating Natasha's wound carefully.

"You're pretty good at this, doc," Natasha commented as you blew on her brow, even if it didn't sting. "You're pretty gentle. Must be why Tony says you're his personal doctor."

You chuckled. "I'm actually a cellular biologist. Tony is funding my research and pretty much my lifestyle. With the money he's paying me, he can come crying about his boo-boos anytime. Although, he doesn't really come to me for serious stuff. It's usually if he has something ridiculous like a papercut."

"But you can treat wounds and other medical things?"

"I was on my way to becoming a medical doctor before I decided to go into research instead."

"Huh," Natasha hummed, raising her brow at you. "Smart cookie."

"I'd like to think so," you finished cleaning Natasha's wound and putting a bandaid over it. "Feel free to come see me if you need any other basic medical aid. For a pretty redhead, it's free of charge."

"And if I come back blonde?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," you smiled, and Natasha smirked back at you.

"Smart and funny. Tony has it too good."

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April 2014

"This is the worst bandage job I've ever seen. Who did you go to see for this? A grocery clerk?"

Natasha grunted. "Hi, to you too, doc."

You looked at Natasha, noticing how different her hair is now. But it's been about two years since you have seen her. Despite your offer for her to come to you anytime she needed help, she never did. Or she rarely did, you supposed.

You could only deduce that Natasha was used to caring for her wounds on her own. That, or she didn't trust you.

"Alright, let's go to my office," you sighed.

"Am I interrupting?"

"Not really, kind of hit a brick wall."

"Oh, me too."

You looked over at Natasha, who had a straight face, but you noticed the bruise on her temple outside the obvious gun wound on her shoulder.

You pursed your lips. "Will you hate me if I laugh?"

"Not at all. On the contrary, I may like you less if you don't."

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June 2015

"You know, when I told you that you could come for me for basic medical aid, I feel like you didn't understand the meaning of basic."

"Is this too complicated for you?"

"No."

"Then am I unwelcomed?"

You pursed your lips at the redhead, who stared at you with a tiny upward quirk on her lip. "No," you sighed. "Just not sure why you'd want to see me for such serious wounds. There are other more experienced doctors."

You lift Natasha's shirt up, looking at the long gash on the side of her stomach. "We're gonna need to stitch this up. I've been doing research with Dr. Cho, and we have a new machine that can help with cell tissue generation. It would be faster than me manually stitching—"

"It's fine," Natasha declined. "I'd prefer if you manually did it."

You frown lightly at the fact but relent to the redhead's wishes. Another year passes, and Natasha's hair has changed again.

You worked silently on cleaning Natasha's wound, and she also declined the anesthetic. You focus on stitching up the wound with precision and care.

"I like to go to you for some things because your touch is gentle," Natasha said quietly, but it felt so loud in the silent room. "It makes me feel human when I can feel your touch."

You looked over at her face briefly, but Natasha wasn't looking at you. You don't take any deeper meaning into it. She's someone who's probably felt dehumanized most of her life. The machines that can heal her twice as fast would be fine for life-threatening injuries, but it probably all feels clinical.

You looked back down at the stitch. "Well, as long as you're a redhead, it's free of charge."

"Don't kid yourself, I would look perfect blonde."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

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September 2016

"What are you doing here?" You hissed as you pulled Natasha in quickly, peering outside before shutting the door.

"Why? Am I unwelcomed now?" Natasha's tone sounded a little hurt, and you scan her body. She didn't seem to be bleeding anywhere that required immediate attention, but you did notice crusted blood at the edge of her nostrils.

"No, but you could get caught here," you shook your head at her. "They're looking for you and the rest of team cap everywhere."

Natasha shrugged. "I highly doubt Tony has your place under surveillance. We don't meet enough for anyone to consider looking for me through you."

You sighed, not sure what to feel about the statement. "I suppose. I don't work for Tony anymore, anyway."

Natasha's brows furrowed.

"Why?"

"I don't agree with what he's doing."

"So you're on Steve's side?"

"No, I think Steve was obstinate too. They're both stupid. Men are stupid."

Natasha laughed before wincing as she held her nose.

"What happened?" You brought her over to your couch before finding your first aid kit.

"I broke my nose," Natasha shrugged. "Can you believe breaking my nose saved millions of girls?"

"With you? Yes." You smirked as you tilted her head to look at the injury closer. "Lucky you. Looks like you don't need surgery. Do you always come here immediately after you save the world?"

"Yep."

"Couldn't even clean your nose before you did?"

"And deprive you of giving me care? I wouldn't dare."

You snorted, carefully cleaning the blood in and around her nose. It was silent again before Natasha spoke up.

"So, what happened with your research stuff now that Tony's not sponsoring your work?"

"Pepper is funding it, even though she knows I won't share anything with Stark Industries at the moment. She doesn't want me to sell my research or provide any data to other companies."

"Smart cookie."

"And a really hot blonde."

"This feels targeted. It's like you know I might dye my hair blonde soon."

"You're still a redhead; I have no idea what you mean. I like your hair, though. Braids look good on you."

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June 2018

Natasha showed up at your front step, holding her rib. There's a look of genuine relief at seeing you.

"You're still here," her voice sounds empty and hollow. "You're still here."

You pulled her inside gently. You're still in shock yourself. You were on a walk when people started disappearing left and right. The sheer panic on the streets was chaos as you were dialing Pepper frantically, almost crying when she picked up the phone. Then there were actual tears when you called other people in your life, and half of them didn't pick up...and they weren't going to.

"I'm here," you swallowed. "What happened to your rib?"

"I don't know." Natasha looked so lost. There was the look of failure and self-blame all over her face.

"Does it hurt?"

"I don't know."

You grasp her wrist, carefully moving her hand away from her rib before gently putting your fingertips against them. Your fingers trail up, down, and around.

Suddenly, Natasha broke into tears.

"Does it hurt?" You asked, panicked.

"You're still here," was all Natasha choked through her tears.

You didn't know what to do other than treat her wounds more gently than ever before while reassuring her you hadn't disappeared. You were one of the many people on this planet still here. And when she was better, she'd get the rest of them back.

It was a long and exhausting night, and Natasha fell asleep in your bed, and you made sure she was comfortable before leaving to sleep on the couch.

Natasha's hair has changed again.

"You look good blonde."

That was the last time you saw her.

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Natasha's hair has changed again. She's gone back to being a redhead with blonde tips. Her hair was a mess, barely brushed, and looked knotted.

The room was big and had padded walls, a singular bed in one corner, and a toilet and sink in another. There were lights in parts of the cell but also areas of darkness. It looked like a fucking prison cell.

You were looking through an unbreakable glass window, the middle holding up a microphone you assumed was linked to the speaker in the room.

Natasha stood in the middle of the room under the light in a hospital gown falling off her shoulder. Her hands were covered in scars, and her lips were so chapped, you were sure they'd split even if Natasha breathed the wrong way.

Natasha was only a few feet away from you, but it felt like she was a million miles away.

They let you see her alone under the guise of privacy as you saw her.

You felt you weren't supposed to see this—see her like this.

A sense of dread filled you at the blank expression on Natasha's face at what she'd gone through—what she was still going through.

She was a hero, and this was how they were treating her? This was someone who had fought wars repeatedly for this stupid country and the rest of the world, and they had her locked up like a mental ward patient from the 1600s.

You thought the government had gotten better. There were reforms and peace after people came back from the snap. This wasn't how they were supposed to treat someone who'd given up their life to ensure everyone got theirs.

It shouldn't matter that she came back; she had still given it up in the first place for them.

Natasha didn't even seem to recognize you through the glass as you stepped closer to the microphone. She looked past you as if she could tell the exit was somewhere behind you.

"Natasha?" You said into the mic, and it bellowed into the room.

Nothing.

"Nat?"

Natasha's eyes were listless. She was a broken, empty shell that seemed more like an animated corpse than actually being alive.

You swallowed, trying one more time. "You're still a redhead. Looks like it's still free of charge."

Natasha's eyes flickered this time, her head tilts towards you as she blinked with focus. It was just a spark, but it was something, and relief spreads through you.

"Not completely." You could barely hear her voice, but it was coarse. Cold.

There should've been a joke about some kind of discount, but Natasha didn't make it. You were speechless.

You didn't know what to say. Don't worry, you're trapped in here, but I'm going to help with the research, and hopefully, we'll get you out soon?

It was like prolonging a death sentence. You were horrified.

"Just—wait for me," the words flew out of your mouth so fast but you meant them with every ounce of your being. "You're gonna go home with me today."

Natasha's eyes sparked at the words but just as quick as you saw it, they died out, falling back into listlessness. She turned, stepping into a darkened corner away from your view and prying eyes of the cameras as she said, "No, I'm not."

You realized she's probably spent weeks watching Clint, Bruce, and Fury try to get her out unsuccessfully.

The resignation made something lurch in your throat and eyes sting with desperation and rage.

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"So, we can send you a contract—"

"You're going to release her to my custody," you cut off some government official. He was old, wearing some kind of toupee that was slicked back to hide his balding head.

He looked at you in disbelief, almost laughing like you were some stupid, naive young girl.

He looks at Clint and Bruce, who are also just looking at you in shock.

"As I've told your friends and Nick Fury, this is out of their hands. The Accords are still intact as of right now, therefore—"

"I don't care about the Accords. You will release her into my care. I'm more than qualified and I have the resources to find the inane answers you're looking for while rehabilitating Agent Romanoff," you cut him off again, able to tell that it was irking him.

"That won't be necessary as you can see we have the resources here," the government official raised his brow at you.

"Your resources can't compete with Stark's resources."

It was no secret that Tony had left a very sizable fortune to you in his will, outside of everything he gave to Pepper and Morgan. And it was also no secret how close you were with the surviving Starks.

"Doctor," the government official sighed, obviously making it sound like you were a nuisance. "If you're not here to join our research team, I suggest you go on your way and remember the NDA you signed."

You glared at him even more. "I'm not leaving without Agent Romanoff. You will hand her over to me, or you will regret it."

"And exactly how will I regret it?" The government official looked smug, and you smirked back at him.

"I'm still in talks with the government regarding my research, and I will pull out and sell that information outside of this country as I'm free to do so. I know Dr. Cho is in talks between the US and South Korea about her nano-technology. One word from me, and America can fall behind on those advancements as well." You pulled out your cell phone in a threatening manner. "Pepper and I will pull out all of our money from the very same banks and company investments that you're supporting and make you watch as they collapse one after another."

"You'd ruin our entire economy—our country by doing so!" The official was red in the face. "You'd put your entire country into chaos?" He sneered at you.

"I will if you don't give me Agent Romanoff!" You sneered back at him. "It's not like you won't eventually get your research and answers if she's in my custody. It works in both our favor."

The official is staring at you, glaring and seething.

"I imagine your colleagues and superiors will pin the blame on you if this entire economy and country goes into ruin because if I have to do that, I will say that it's the government's fault. The NDA said I can't specifically talk about Natasha and this place, which I won't. But I'm sure some journalist will discover the truth and plaster all over the news what you're doing to a war hero," your voice was so vindictive; you're not sure if you've ever been so cold before.

"So," your voice was flat, devoid of emotion now. "What will it be?"

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It was agreed that Natasha would stay in a cabin that Pepper owned out in the countryside. You were to provide monthly updates on your research and rehabilitation progress. And while this was in headway, neither you nor Natasha was free to leave the country or this planet.

Clint initially wanted you and Natasha to stay with him and his family, but you declined. You pointed out that it would be hard for him and his family—his children, especially—to see Natasha like this.

Pepper had everything prepared while you gingerly collected Natasha.

"We're going home, Natasha," you said softly, shrugging off your jacket to wrap around her shoulders. But Natasha still didn't react, even if she let you take her hand and drag her out of the facility.

During the car ride, you mentally planned what you needed to do. Natasha needed to eat, take a bath, and rest.

"Have you eaten yet?" You asked the redhead, sitting stoically in the car, straight as a rod.

There was no answer. Natasha was peering out the windshield, her hands perfectly on both thighs. Clint looked worried as he looked at you.

"Natasha?" You gently placed her hand over hers. You could feel the bumps of the white scars over her hand. A part of you is too frightened to ask where she got these from.

Natasha looked down at your hand over hers before looking at you. Her eyes were so empty. Such a dull green like dying grass.

"Did you eat?"

Natasha nodded once before looking back outside the windshield.

You looked at Clint, trying to give him a reassuring smile, but deep down, you were afraid you had no idea what the fuck you were doing.

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"Pepper says you've been here before, but let me know if you need help finding anything," you brought her into the house where Natasha just stood, looking at nothing in particular.

"Um," you took a shaky breath. "How about a bath? I'm sure it'll be good to get the grime and stale air off of you."

Natasha didn't move on her own, so you began to lead her up the stairs to the bathroom.

It was a detached tub near the high window to get plenty of sunlight without anyone being able to peer in.

"I'll just get this started for you," you offered. Turning on the tap and pouring in a liquid that formed into bubbles. "Just make sure to check the temperature and adjust. Pepper says that sometimes that faucet can be a little finicky."

You turned to Natasha, who stood there, staring at the wall. She was unmoving, making no gesture if she was waiting for you to get out or to start undressing.

"Do you, um, need help?" You asked, but there was no answer.

Maybe it would wake her up a little once she was in the water.

"I'm—" you took a long breath in. "I'm gonna help you undress and get into the tub. If you get uncomfortable at any point, let me know and I can stop or do something else."

It wasn't like you've never seen a naked body before. You've seen plenty both in your sex life and field of work. You've even seen parts of Natasha's body when you've treated her. You just never thought you'd see Natasha fully naked.

You slid your jacket off her shoulders, letting out a puff of breath. You looked past her as you undid the string of her hospital gown. You looked up when you slid down her underwear before guiding her towards the tub. Your gentle guiding seemed to spark Natasha into mechanically climbing into it herself the rest of the way.

"Okay, cool. Um," you stuttered. "I'm sure you've been through a lot. Once you're done, we can get you into bed and if you're hungry later, I can make you something."

You were getting used to the lack of answers, but it didn't make your stomach drop any less. "Just let me know if you need anything."

You don't wait for a response this time, leaving without shutting the door fully. Down the hall, you leaned against the wall, swallowing harshly.

It feels like you brought a lifeless shell home. A part of you wonders if Natasha really did return or if this was just some lifeless doll.

You didn't want to think about it anymore, so you pushed yourself off the wall and into a bedroom with a suitcase and unzipped it open to grab some clothes.

When you were heading back, you heard the water still running and frowned.

"Natasha?" You called as you opened the door. The tub was overfilling, and you rushed to turn off the faucet, trying to not slip.

Natasha was sitting how you left her, staring ahead at the running water but not really looking at it.

You sighed, relieved that the bathroom floor was designed with wood and curved so that any water would naturally run towards a drain in the floor.

You go to check the temperature of the water and find that while it was initially fine when you turned it on, Natasha hadn't attempted to adjust it, and the finicky faucet ran nearly scalding water.

"Jesus, Natasha, you're going to hurt yourself," you yelped. You braced through it and stuck your hand in to drain the tub halfway.

You inwardly sighed, knowing you would have to help Natasha through the entire process. You began to refill the tub, monitoring the temperature and shut it off when it was filled adequately.

"I'm going to help wash you if that's okay," you muttered. "Just let me know if you prefer to do it yourself at any point."

You grabbed a nearby stool and sat on it before grabbing the loofa. You began with Natasha's shoulders and arms, trying to wash parts of her that were easy to access.

Natasha tensed as you washed her, so you tried to be more slow and careful.

"It's just me," you said softly, trying to reassure the redhead. "I've always taken care of you."

Natasha said nothing, but her shoulders relaxed slightly as you continued. There wasn't much dirt on her, but the stale air that was surrounding her began to fade away.

Her knees were propped up, folded to her chest, and you washed down her thighs and legs, trying to not think of anything too much as you did it. You tried not to think about the scars on her hands and feet.

Readjusting your stool, you went to sit behind her. You used a cup to wet Natasha's hair, trying to detangle some of it gently first. It was then you discovered a shaven spot in the back of her head, where there was a large scar. You realized that was where Natasha's head hit the ground when she—

You swallowed, trying to suppress the anger that they shaved her head to get a look at something so private.

You squeezed a considerable amount of shampoo in your hands and gently rubbed it into her scalp. Natasha tensed at first before your fingers massaging her scalp made her relax, her body leaning back against the tub and her head into your hands.

It was quiet as you did this. You shampooed her hair twice before slathering it up in conditioner and finally getting out the rest of the knots. You drained the tub, grabbing the shower head to rinse her down once more before you grabbed a towel and helped her out.

You helped put a bathrobe around her to help dry her as you didn't think you had the gall to fully dry every part of her by hand. Grabbing her clothes, you led her to her bedroom, setting her down on the bed.

Natasha sat silently as you towel-dried her hair with gentle hands. Her eyes fell closed as you began to blow dry it. Your soft fingers tousling her hair.

So delicate.

When it was dry, you set the blow dryer aside.

"Hm, your hair is pretty sensitive and might be for the next week. It might be better to braid it so it doesn't tangle and break when you're sleeping," you commented, mostly to yourself.

You took sections of her hair, delicately beginning to put her hair into a french braid.

"You've always had beautiful hair, red or blonde," you complimented Natasha as you finished. You moved to sit in front of her to check if you did okay from the front. There wasn't a response, but Natasha opened her eyes. They focused on you, looking at you as they traced over the features of your face. She was studying you apprehensively.

Natasha lifted a hand, slowly reaching up as her fingers brushed the side of your face. It felt bumpy from the scars, but it made the back of your throat burn.

"Am I really here?" Natasha mumbled as she then traced your cheek before your lips. "Am I really here with you?"

Your eyes were burning now. You couldn't even answer right away because you were afraid your lips would start trembling.

You lifted your hand, hesitating at first, before you held her hand against your face. "Yeah, you're really here."

The edges of Natasha's eyes began to brim with tears.

"When I jumped, I didn't die right away," Natasha whispered. "There was a feeling that something bad was going to happen. It didn't get me yet, but it was going to."

You couldn't help the tears that began to fall over the edge of your eyes when they overfilled.

"Something bad happened to me," Natasha's lip trembled. "It's still happening to me."

You gripped her hand tighter unintentionally, but it was like it grounded Natasha.

"I was scared," Natasha admitted. "I was scared that even if you came to me, it wouldn't go away."

Then, Natasha grabbed your hand and placed it against her cheek. It was still warm from the bath and blow dryer.

"But I can feel your touch," Natasha sighed like it was a relief. "It's gentle and I feel human. I'm scared I'm not really here."

"You are."

Your throat felt clogged with raw emotions, and you didn't know what to do with it. You've only seen Natasha a handful of times, and maybe it's because the more you do, the more emotionally charged you both feel.

"You're really here," you told Natasha, using your thumb to caress her cheek. You didn't know what else to say.

All you can do is offer her shelter under your touch.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #natasha romanov imagine #natasha romanov x reader #avengers imagine #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha x you #mm: my fics

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jnginlov · 10 months

Text

i love you, again

your boyfriend has a bit of an endearing habit when he gets drunk and after a stressful day you couldn’t be happier to hear it

⇀ pairing s.coups x reader

⇀ genre fluff, slight hurt/comfort (but just the comfort)

⇀ style one-shot/blurb

⇀ word count 1.6k

⇀ warnings drinking (reader has wine, cheol is drunk), talk of being stressed, food, so sickly sweet

⇀ reactions from the gc “You love me so much🥹this was perfect”

note i wrote this MONTHS ago for syd and i guess myself cause i had the shittiest week known to man (ignore the formatting idk why i was writing with capitalization bleh)

Seungcheol wasn’t known to be a lightweight, especially compared to some of his other band mates, but there were certainly times when he’d gotten past the point of making sense. You predicted that tonight might be one of those when he’d texted you that he and the boys were all going out to celebrate the end of their incredibly successful promotions for their latest comeback. Usually he might invite you to tag along, as many of the members enjoyed bringing their partner along, but he knew you’d had a tough day, the kind only recovered from by alone time, so he had let you know where they were all going and that he’d probably be home a bit late, and you were honestly a bit thankful that you would have the entire apartment to yourself for the next few hours at least. You loved your boyfriend, but honestly if you had to interact with another person face-to-face for very much longer before you had your personal decompression time, you might just break down.

So, when you get home you move as slowly as you feel like, pouring yourself a glass of wine, running a bath with your favorite bubble mix, that you remind yourself to thank your boyfriend for restocking earlier in the week, and ordering your favorite comfort food to be delivered just before your skin would start to wrinkle in the water. Once you’ve settled onto the couch with your food and pulled up your favorite movie you can already feel that most of the day has melted off your shoulders.

As the movie ends you check your phone for the first time since you've gotten home, there are a few notifications from your friends and a couple messages from Jeonghan. You two are certainly friends but he’s not really a casual texter so you’re slightly confused until you notice the images he’d attached.

The first picture is just Seungcheol, a candid of him laughing at something one of the other boys must of done or said. He was always better at taking those aesthetic boyfriend pictures of Cheol than you were, but you like to blame it on the years of practice he had before you even knew either of them. The second picture is obviously from later in the night, and you notice that it was only sent a few minutes ago. There are several empty glasses in front of your boyfriend, and you can spot at least three empty soju bottles, but most notably he is very cutely posing for the camera, a blush dusting his cheeks as he pouts his lips.

You giggle as you reply to Jeonghan with a quick and simple laughing emoji before you place your phone back next to you on the couch and set up for your second movie of the night. You don’t feel a buzz next to you for the entire first act of the film, Jeonghan often not responding unless he has something else to say, but just as the main character is starting to reach the peak of their conflict your phone lights up with a call from your likely very drunk boyfriend.

You answer as soon as the movie is paused, smiling gently as you say, “Hi Cheolie.”

You hear his muffled giggle on the other side of the line before he replies with a drawn out, “Hiiii.”

“What’s up?” you ask, knowing that he must have called you for a reason.

He giggles again, although this time he forgets to cover the microphone and you can hear the tinkle of his laugh as clearly as your phone speaker will allow. His giggles always had the same effect on you, feeling light stream between your ribs as butterflies brush against your stomach. Instantly the rest of the tension you’d been holding in your body seems to melt away, swallowed by the love struck smile your boyfriend has to be wearing on his face based on the way his next few words come out.

“Hmm, I want to tell you something.” He says it lightly and you’re starting to realize how gone he must be. You can faintly hear the muffled sounds of the bar he’d been at for the past several hours but you figure he must have stepped out of the main room, if not all the way outside, because the background sounds don’t cover his words at all. “Can I tell you something?”

“You know you can tell me anything,” you reply quickly, telling the truth even though you’re familiar with the secret he’s about to spill.

Every few months, once your boyfriend has gotten sufficiently inebriated, his memory will seem to fail him and he will forget how far you’d gotten into your relationship. This means that wherever he is, whatever he is doing he will suddenly have a burst of longing for you and will need to “tell you something”. This something is always along the lines of how much he loves you but he will treat this fact, that you already know and had probably heard him tell you at least five times that day alone, as though it’s a new confession. The other boys think it’s funny but you find it adorable that the man you love returns your feelings so strongly that he basically can’t keep them to himself even if he’s not sure you two are even in a relationship.

You hear Seungcheol take a deep breath through the phone before he says, “Okay but it’s really important.”

You chuckle lightly in admiration and try to control your smile as you reply. “Would you rather do it in person?” you ask, never having this happen with him over the phone. Usually this would happen when you were together drinking, so although you’d had a glass of wine earlier you were certainly more sober than you’d been any other time he’d done this.

“No!” he practically shouts in response. “I’m too nervous,” he responds quietly, although his words are slurring together and so you almost don’t hear him.

“Okay,” you say fondly, your own smile no longer able to be fought off by your self control. “I’m listening,” you reassure him as another chuckle slips past your lips.

He takes a pause and you almost wonder if he’s going to not say it. Maybe you misread the situation and he is actually telling you something that you’d rather hear in person. You feel a bubble of doubt form in the bottom of your stomach, itching with nerves as you wait for your boyfriend to stumble through his next words.

As soon as he’s opened his mouth you feel that bubble pop and the itching is replaced with warmth as he, as clearly as he can with all the alcohol running through his system, says, “I love you.” It’s a firm statement, said with the tone of a fact but the way you can practically feel Seungcheol’s tension radiating through the phone almost makes it feel like a question.

“I love you too,” your reply rolling off your tongue as easy as every time you say it to him but never losing any of the tenderness you hold for your lover.

Seungcheol suddenly releases a breath on the other end of the line and you can almost hear his lips stretch into the loving smile he always gives you after hearing those words.

The next few moments are filled with comfortable silence and you’re almost afraid to break it before you ask, “When are you coming home?”

This seems to almost bring him back for a moment as he must be remembering that, not only is this not the first time he’s told you he loves you but, he shares an apartment with you, where he gets to go to bed with you every night and wake up to you every morning. You’re patient as you wait for him to catch up and you almost feel bad for ruining his romantic alcohol related fantasy until he has suddenly come back to reality.

“Right now,” he says with an urgency, and you can hear him open the door that had separated him from the commotion of the main room. “I want to hold you,” he adds as a sort of explanation and you faintly hear the sounds of Jeonghan calling your boyfriend’s name.

“I’m all yours,” you reply with a light giggle, shaking your head as you get up to move to the bed, turning off your forgotten movie and packing your leftovers for the fridge.

“Wow,” he breaths out faintly in disbelief causing you to let out another giggle.

“I love you,” you remind him, partly just to hear him sigh in that lovestruck way he does when he’s in this mood. “I’ll see you soon, baby,” you add and you can hear him drop something or bump into something as all the other boys groan at him and you laugh.

“I love you too, bye,” he says quickly as you can hear the boys starting to hound him about what he’s doing before he hangs up.

As you bring the phone away from your ear you notice how different you feel from when you first got home and even from just before your boyfriend called you. The stress from your day had dissipated almost completely and you almost forgot that you’d originally wanted to spend your night alone. So as you get comfortable in bed, and wait for your sweet Cheol to join you, you make a mental note to allow yourself to enjoy your boyfriend’s healing energy when you might feel like isolating again.

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