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#'okay COULD be taken the wrong way. i don't know'
chuluoyi · 5 months
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✎ daddy-to-be
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- gojo satoru x reader
in which you're worried about how he'd react to you carrying his baby
genre: fluff and comfort, mentions of pregnancy and dizzy spells
note: i feel soooo warm writing this *sigh* thank u anon who asked this!
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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"Gojo-sensei! Must we do this?"
"For real?!"
"Okaka..."
"Yoohoo! Hehehehe~"
You sighed at the sight of your tall paintbrush of a husband. Satoru was supposedly teaching his first years—Maki, Panda and Inumaki—and yet, from where you were standing, it looked more like he was bullying them into following his whims more than anything.
A kind reminder that… this silly man is the father of your unborn child.
He didn't know that you were pregnant yet, because you had discovered it just a few days ago and chosen to keep it a secret for the time being.
In theory, this was normal. You two were married and engaged in a high level of sexual activity—something Satoru made sure of—and therefore, conceiving a child was bound to happen sooner or later.
Admittedly, accepting the fact that you were carrying his baby wasn't as easy as you thought, even knowing that. You hadn't seriously talked about having kids, and sure, your husband might have just taken a young cursed boy Yuta into his care—and way before that, Megumi, but it wasn't the same with your own child. It can't be the same.
And not to mention that you two were jujutsu sorcerers. Where would raising a baby fit in this bloody, cursed world you lived in?
...and above all, as things stand now, does Satoru even want a baby?
You released another sigh as you walked away, but then your vision tipped and you had to grab the wall for support. Right, you hadn't even been feeling well these past few days. You got queasy easily, and you experienced sporadic bouts of vertigo too.
"Sensei?" Yuta's worried voice greeted you, and you forced yourself to remain upright. "Are you okay?"
"Ah, yes, I'm fine," you assured him with a smile.
"Should I get Gojo-sensei? You seem pale..."
"No, no, that's—"
"Ooh~ Wifey!"
You cursed his impeccable timing as the striking white hair of your husband came to view. A mischievous grin adorned his face, a bundle of sunshine and trouble as always, as he wrapped an arm around you.
"Don't you have to teach the second years? My pretty wife, you can't be slacking—"
His smile abruptly fell when you subconsciously leaned on him and he noticed your shallow breaths. Satoru promptly tightened his grip on you.
"Yuta," his tone had taken a sharper turn. "Go to the training grounds and train with the others. Class ends after that."
As Yuta nodded and proceeded on his way, he immediately turned to face you. "What's wrong?" he asked with genuine concern. "Are you not feeling well? Can you walk?"
"I'm fine," you insisted, even though the edges of your vision started to blur.
Satoru pursed his lips, and you could tell even with his blindfold on, he was staring at you hard. "Don't be stubborn. Come on, let's get you home."
In an instant, he teleported you back to your shared home, his arms securely under your knees. You didn't know when the dizziness started to ramp up, but you were sure to fall if he didn't have a secure grip on you.
"How long have you been feeling unwell?" he inquired as he carefully lowered you onto your bed.
Realizing there was no point in hiding it any longer, you squeezed your eyes shut as your head rested on the soft pillow. "...since this morning."
Satoru expressed his dissatisfaction with a grunt. "In that case, you shouldn't have gone to school. From now on, you're on leave."
He fussed over you—removing your shoes, fine-tuning the air conditioner, and ensuring you were snug in bed. "What is causing you to feel this bad? Is it something you ate? We had dinner together, and I feel perfectly fine..."
You raised your gaze to him just as he tore off his blindfold, his eyes locking with yours. The blue of his eyes scrutinizing and assessing you, and suddenly, you felt insecure as he quirked an eyebrow, seemingly suspecting something. “Is there something you aren't telling me?”
This is it. You couldn't keep this from him any longer. This was his child as much as yours, he had to know for you to be able to decide on the next steps.
You exhaled. "I'm… pregnant."
Silence. For the next five seconds, you could've sworn that Satoru held his own breath.
"Pregnant?" he repeated, stunned, widened cerulean marbles blinking several times. "You...?"
You sat up, reaching for your nightstand and retrieving the five pregnancy tests you had stashed in the drawer, handing them to him.
Satoru fixed his gaze onto the two red lines on the sticks, examining them and then shifting his eyes between you and them several times. You didn't dare to look at him, feeling your hands starting to shake and your gut twisting.
But contrary to your dread, before you could blink, he pulled you into his embrace. Your heart melted as he softly murmured, "Dummy, why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I... I was worried. I didn't think I..."
He nuzzled into your neck, breathing in deeply. "Silly... I'm supposed to be your safe space. You can and absolutely should tell me these kind of things..."
A lingering fear persisted in your gut as you croaked out, "Are you... okay with it?"
Satoru snapped his head so quickly, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean—of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"
You didn't know why, but his impromptu and steadfast declaration brought tears to your eyes.
"Stupid," he chided, his voice tinged with slight giddiness and overflowing fondness, and doubled with the wide grin on his face, you were starstruck. Holding your hand, he pressed a tender kiss on your knuckles, and then on the wedding band resting on your ring finger.
His sincere, warm eyes spoke volumes as he said, "You are my beautiful, lovely, and amazing wife. And now you're about to make me a daddy. Why wouldn't I be thrilled about that?"
You had given him love that saved him in countless ways, some of which you might not even realize. And now, you were about to gift him another piece of you to love—his own family to cherish. Satoru was convinced he couldn't love you more than he did in this moment.
You cried even harder, wiping your face sloppily as you pouted at him, voice clogged with tears, a mixture of relief and happiness overwhelming you. "Why are you so s-sweet? You're u-usually... such a menace..."
"Hey! That's slander! I'm always nice to you!" he protested with a mock frown, trying to lighten the mood.
Satoru brought you into his arms again, affectionately stroking your hair. His excitement was palpable as he chuckled gleefully at the very idea of becoming a father to a mini-him or you in a not-so-distant future.
With that sentiment in mind, he genuinely meant every word of what he softly uttered in your ear:
"I love you, sweetheart. And mark my words—with everything I have, I won't let anything happen to you or our baby… I swear it."
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talkdutchtome · 1 month
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"Let me take care of you" - Max Verstappen
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pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )
genre . . . smut )
summary . . . after a disastrous race, you take care of max the best way you know how )
warning . . . smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple play, use of petnames, sub!max, very soft dom!reader, traumatized maxie, not proofread )
word count . . . 2800 words )
a/n . . . this actually ended up a lot more emotional than i intended it to be but i hope everyone likes it anyway. i don't know if my smut writing is getting better or worse tbh. any and all feedback is always appricated <3 )
Max was a perfectionist; anyone could see that. He also had a desire to win like nobody else. He never let up. It didn’t matter to him if it was a title deciding race or a completely meaningless one, he needed to win. It had been instilled in him for as long as he could remember; second place is first loser after all. So naturally, when his brakes failed, and his car very literally caught fire in the Australian Grand Prix causing him to have to retire three laps into the race; you knew he was not going to take it well.  
You were watching along in the garage, and the only thing you could think about as his smoking car pulled up to the pits was how hard on himself he was going to be. The fact that it was through no fault of his own was irrelevant. He had just handed a win to Ferrari, and that made his blood boil.  
In typical Max fashion, you barely saw him after he retired too. He gave you a quick hug as he reached the garage but after that it was straight back to business. He made his way to the pit wall and immediately began discussing with Christian and GP what exactly happened and how do they fix it for Japan. He sent you a text that he was going to stay late at the track with the mechanics so that you should just head back to the hotel.  
Truthfully, Max was avoiding you. You had only been dating Max for a couple of months, and so far you had only seen him dominate on track. And whilst you were concerned that that he would be beating himself up for disappointing himself or the team, he was busy focusing on how he had disappointed you. You had taken time out of your busy university schedule to travel to the other side of the world to see him race, and he had to retire three laps in. He was used to people living through him, taking his wins as theirs. He had never considered that all you cared about that he was safe and didn’t get hurt.  
So, you went to the hotel and waited for him; or at least you tried to. Tiredness and jet lag eventually started to catch up to you, and you had just started to drift off to sleep when you heard the door open. Looking up greet Max, you could see immediately how heavy the weight he bore on his shoulders hung.  
“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” You asked him sleep in your voice still evident. Max just hung his head and walked into the bathroom. He half expected you to berate him. To question him on exactly what went wrong and what he’s going to do to fix it.  
“Maxie?” You asked again, as he came in from the bathroom and made his way to his side of the bed, his eyes routed to the floor. This time he just grunted at you in response before getting into bed and turning away from you. He did not have the energy to be told everything he did wrong and why - he had already had that from his dad.  
“Please talk to me Maxie, I’m worried.” You pleaded at him, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around him. You wanted that more than anything, but you sensed that he maybe didn’t feel the same.  
“What do you want Y/N?” He finally spoke, his voice cracking.  
“Are you okay? I know that was tough result to take but it’s only once race. We both know you’ll be back better than ever for the next one.”  
To your words, Max just grunted again. And this time you couldn’t help but reach over to hold him. Wrapping one of your arms around his waist and the other coming up to brush through his hair. You waited cautiously for him to pull away. A moment passed and he began to move, your heart sank; he clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near you right now. But instead of moving away, he just turned around, bringing himself closer to you, resting his head on your chest.  
“I just hate to let the team down” he spoke, his voice no more than a whisper, like he wasn’t 100% convinced if he should be saying anything.  
“But baby you didn’t let them down, you did nothing wrong. There was an issue with the car that isn’t your fault.” You gazed down at his face, your hands smoothing through his hair.  
“I could have done something. Maybe I pushed the brakes too much. Maybe I went too hard. All I know is that I let the team down. I let my dad down. I let you down. You cam-“ He started to ramble, but you had heard enough.   
“Whoa Max baby slow down. I can’t speak for the team or your dad, but you certainly did not let me down. All that matters to me is that you didn’t get hurt. I was so worried; you were literally driving a car that was on fire. You could have been hurt.”  
As the words left your mouth, he looked up at you. Almost as if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. When his eyes met yours and he realized you were being sincere, he hugged tighter into you.  
“I love you Y/N” he spoke and before you could say anything, you felt him bring his mouth to your neck. Leaving hot open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone up to until he met your mouth. His lips crashed against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. His hands found your hair and his teeth nipped at your lips. He quickly found himself getting lost in you and you weren’t too far behind. But when his hands wandered towards the bottom of your pajama top, you had to pull away.  
“Wait, Maxie. Are you sure you want to do this? You’ve had a rough day, are you sure you want to do this. We could just go to sleep if you’d prefer.” You didn’t want him to feel like this was something he needed to do.  
But when his lips once again found your neck, it was clear you had your answer. “Please” he mumbled against your skin “I just want to forget” between each word he left a kiss on your neck, before beginning to nibble against that one spot on your neck that he knew always sent you completely insane. He left deep purple marks all down your neck and you couldn’t help but let a moan slip through your lips.  
You were about to completely cave into his touch before you had an idea, and before you could overthink whether it was a good idea, you swung your legs over him until you had him pinned underneath you, your legs either side of his. A smirk plastered across your face 
Max looked completely taken aback at your action, but the second you leant down to kiss him, your lips just slightly brushing against his; he was starstruck and could feel himself growing harder by the second, which only deepened your smirk.  
“Let me take care of you baby” you whispered in his ear before beginning to grind your core against him. The whimper that left Max’s lips took you both by surprise but, taking that as confirmation that he wanted you to take control; you attached your lips to his neck, trailing kisses down his chest until you reached the waistband of his underwear. It was clear from the way that his hard dick strained against the cloth that Max was enjoying this new side of you, and you could be lying if you said it didn’t give you a bit of a confidence boost. 
You started to tease him, placing warm kisses over his underwear, but when you hear him try and fail to beg you to touch him, it becomes clear that maybe today isn’t the day to tease him. So, you hook your fingers around his waistband and release him from the tight confines of the cloth. Immediately, your mouth found his cock, your lips wrapping around his tip. Max’s moans filled the air as he came apart like putty in your hands. The way that your tongue swirled around him made him go crazy. He reached out his hands to grab your hair in a makeshift pony, but you dodged him. Max honestly thought he was going to cry when you took your mouth off him. 
“No baby, I told you I was going to take care of you, you just sit back and let me do everything” you told him before quickly placing a kiss on his lips before reattaching your mouth to Max’s throbbing dick and bringing your hand to the part of it that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Max felt lightheaded; it’s not like you hadn’t given him a blowjob before, but never like this. He couldn’t ever remember being this turned on before. He had never even considered letting you take control, letting you take care of him so intently before; but now that he was experiencing it – he kicked himself for waiting so long. 
The sounds coming from your boyfriend were music to your ears and only encouraged you to make him feel better and better. You could feel yourself getting wetter, completely desperate to feel him inside of you; but today was about Max, you’d happily wait longer for your own pleasure to take care of him. You began taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, earning more moans from Max. You had never heard him be so vocal before. Things got even better for him when you hallowed your cheeks and brought your hand up to his balls, massaging them in your hands as you worked his dick in your mouth.   When his tip hit the very back of your throat and you gagged around him, he was so loud you were just slightly concerned that whoever was in the room next door would be up for a rude awakening.  
“Oh, fuck baby, oh my god. I’m so close” Max just about managed to get out between moans, promoting you to once again let go of his dick. For a second Max looked at you with puppy dog eyes, silently begging you to take him back in your mouth. But as soon as you stood up and very slowly pulled your pajama shorts down, he realized that there were better things to come.  
“Do you want me to ride you, Maxie?” you asked him breathlessly earning another groan from the man lying on the bed. 
“Fuck, yes. Please please ride me I need to be inside of you more than anything” Max’s voice was weak; it was becoming all too much for him. And when you finally rid yourself of your pajama top, Max started to see stars. Your tits were his weakness, and you knew that all too well. All he wanted was to take them in his mouth, to suck and bite on your nipples. So, when you straddled him once again, that's exactly what he did. You thought about stopping him again, reminding him that tonight was about him and his pleasure; but when you caught sight of his eyes – usually so bright and sparkling. Now they were so dark, so filled with lust and desperation, you didn’t have the heart to deprive him of one of his favorite things to do.  
You leant down to kiss him again, and the taste of his own precum on your tongue made him groan feverishly against your lips. Unable to wait anymore, you finally lowered yourself onto his dick. Now it was your turn to let out a string of moans and profanity. The way that he stretched you out was a feeling that you could never grow old of. After a beat to get used to having him inside of you, you began to bounce on top of him, pumping his dick in and out of your tight desperate pussy.  
“Oh my god Maxie you feel so good, your huge dick sends me so crazy” You moan out, completely cock drunk. “You fuck me so good, god nobody makes me feel like you can” Your praise made Max moan louder than ever and then he simply couldn’t help himself anymore; he brought his hands up to your hips and began thrusting hard into you. You wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him to let you take care of him – but when he rammed his cock into g-spot you physically couldn’t ask him to stop doing something that felt so good.  
“I love you so much Y/N baby” Max croaked out, bringing his mouth back to your tits and his hand down to your clit. Him touching you for the first time tonight meant it was now time for you to see stars. His expert hands rubbing against your clit brought you closer and closer to release and you could tell from the way that Max’s thrusts became deeper and harder that he wasn’t far behind you. 
Wanting to finish what you had started; you placed your hands on his chest – signaling him to stop for a second. Max did so very reluctantly, but when you started to bounce on his dick again his eyes rolled back into his head. After each bounce you grinded yourself down on him, desperate to get him as deep as you possibly could. Your climax was getting closer and closer and soon you felt like you were ready to burst. 
“I’m going to cum on your dick okay baby? You just make me feel so good I can’t help myself.” you told the man beneath you breathlessly, prompting Max to resume rubbing circles into your clit. 
“Please do. Please cum all over my cock I need that so much” Max croaked out and with that you fell over the edge. A wave of pleasure washed over you and you screamed out for Max. It felt so good you thought you were going to pass out, completely taken over by the pleasure that Max’s hard dick had given you. For a few moments, you simply had to still yourself to let yourself recover. 
Once you had ridden out the last of your orgasm, you were ready to go again; ready to make Max feel as good as you possibly could. You began grinding down onto him, squeezing yourself against him. After feeling you cumming all over him, Max knew he wouldn’t need long before he was right behind you.  
“Fuck Y/N I’m really close, get off and I’ll finish in your mouth” Max just about got out between moans. When you didn’t get off and instead began bouncing faster and harder, Max really thought he might just die.  
“Cum inside of me Maxie please, I need your cum fucked so deep inside me”  
“Fuck really?” 
“Yeah, i need it so bad.” 
“Oh my god Y/N, you’ll be the fucking death of me” 
The second those words left his mouth, he fell apart. A string of profanity left his lips, and you could feel his dick pulse inside of you as he painted the insides of you white with his cum. Max couldn’t believe how good it felt, sex with you was always great but that was on another level, he couldn’t remember ever feeling that good before. 
“I love you so much Y/N” 
He gently slipped himself out of you and you collapsed next to him on the bed. Exhausted wasn’t the word for how tired you felt after that. And apparently that was true for Max as well as in the time that it took you to waddle to the toilet to clean yourself up, he had managed to fall asleep. You couldn’t blame him of course; even before that it had been a very long tiering day for him. So, as quietly as you could, you got ready for bed and slipped yourself into bed next to him.  
Looking at the very peaceful sleeping man next to you, you couldn’t help but snuggle down close to him. Placing a kiss on his temple before assuming the big spoon position that you know he loves so much from you. Your movement causing him to ever so slightly stir awake. 
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me” he spoke so softly you almost missed it before falling right back into a very peaceful sleep. You couldn’t help but feel so lucky to have a man like him cuddled close to you. 
“Sleep well Maxie, I love you more than anything.” 
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pathologicalreid · 2 months
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in sickness and in health | S.R.
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Minutes before your wedding is supposed to start, Spencer gets cold feet, and you have to find out why.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff (a smidge angsty) content warnings: alzheimers, weddings, children, babies, sad!spencer, reader wears a dress and makeup, cursing word count: 1.8k a/n: so this became sadder than I had initially intended. also i decided to try something new and write in a different POV and i don't know if i like it. this is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins' new beginnings challenge, because nothing says new beginning quite like getting married! thank you for having this challenge!
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If it were up to you and Spencer, your wedding would’ve taken place at a courthouse with no fuss, just rings and a certificate. Especially after he shot down your idea of a 24-hour wedding chapel in Las Vegas.
In your defense, you pitched it to him as an intimate wedding in his hometown, but he didn’t take the bait.
But when the team found out that the two of you were planning what they deemed unsuitable, they all volunteered to help throw together a ceremony and reception. Everyone was under the duress of Penelope at the time, but they all volunteered.
She could be very formidable when she wanted to.
Your now maid of honor’s eyes were shimmering as she carefully adjusted some of the last few strands of hair upon your head, you had managed to talk her out of a tiara, but to Penelope Garcia, a veil was non-negotiable. “You look gorgeous,” she says, “the perfect bride.”
Laughing uncomfortably, you turn to look at yourself in the full-length mirror and take a deep breath, “Thank you, Pen.”
“I know I may have slightly nudged you in the direction of a bigger wedding-“
“More like punted,” you interrupt, an affectionate smile on your face.
Rolling her eyes, she leaned over to grab her buzzing phone on the velvet chair in your ready room. “Whatever, I just think that after everything you and Spencer have made it out of, you deserve a celebration that reflected that,” she speaks passionately, as she always does when discussing people in love.
Turning around to look back at the mirror, the tulle of your veil cascading over your shoulders as you grew giddy. Your dress was a whimsical, white chiffon that fell to the floor and moved with you as you walked. Small straps of fabric were delicately draped over your arms for an off-the-shoulder effect, you had never felt more glamorous. Although, if there was a day for glamor, your wedding day would certainly qualify.
You snap your head around to see Penelope furiously typing on her phone, “Uh oh,” she whispers, looking at the screen.
Humming, you step off of the pedestal and over to her, careful not to trip on your dress, “What’s wrong?” You murmur, trying to see what was distressing her. Dread built in your stomach; the team couldn’t be getting called away? Two of its members were about to get married. This is why you should’ve just gone to the courthouse; you never should’ve let Garcia talk you into this.
Jolting you out of your panic induced stupor, she answers, “Something’s up with Reid.”
Your heart clenches, “Reid? My Reid?” You whisper, “Is he okay?”
The two of you jump when someone bangs on the door, and she moves to open it, just a crack at first – to see who it is – and then all the way open to reveal Luke on the other side. Naturally, the members of the BAU made up your wedding party, and Luke as the best man was the easy choice.
He was mostly dressed, save for the bowtie that remained undone around his neck, “I need to steal Y/N.” His shoulders were rising and falling quickly like he had run across the building.
“She’s getting ready for the wedding. Her wedding,” Penelope answers, gesturing back to you. “Besides, it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”
Really, you were mostly ready, you just needed to put your shoes on and line up. “There won’t be a wedding if we can’t get the groom out there,” Luke replies.
You warily approach the doorway, peeking around the door, “What’s wrong?”
“He just needs you,” Luke explains, gesturing toward you with his hands.
Nodding determinedly, you step out the door and run over to the other side of the building to where the groom’s ready room is, pulling the fabric of your dress up so that you don’t trip. Along the way, you pass a few guests, but you don’t stop.
It wasn’t news to most of them that you were a grounding force for Spencer, the two of you had been put through, as Luke put it, the wringer together and still managed to come out the other side. You skid to a halt in front of the door and knock quickly, “Spence, it’s me.”
“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony,” he murmurs through the door, echoing the earlier sentiments of Penelope. You know he doesn’t believe in it, which only adds to your concern.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fidgeting with the doorknob just to discover it’s locked. “If you don’t unlock the door, I’m going to go find Derek and have him kick it down for me,” you threaten, wondering if the reminder of all of the people here would coax him out.
There was no response from the other side of the door.
Sighing, you turn to look at Luke, “Can you give us a minute?” He nods, letting you know he’ll talk to Garcia before walking down the long hallway.
Once he’s gone, you hear the tell-tale click of the door unlocking, “Garcia will kill you if you walk in here.”
“Penny isn’t here, baby. It’s just you and me, okay?” You speak lowly, “What’s wrong, my love?” Dropping your hand on the doorknob, you startle slightly when it turns and the door swings open.
You yelp when Spencer pulls you in, closing the door behind you before he wraps his arms tightly around your waist. Immediately, you feel his body relax against yours, “Isn’t this supposed to be bad luck?” He murmurs.
Humming, you return his hug gratefully, “We’ve had enough bad luck, don’t you think? It’ll be okay.” His arms loosen around you, and you pull away slightly so you can look up at him, placing your hands tenderly on his chest, thumbing the satin fabric of his lapels. “And besides, I’m not fully dressed yet. I’m fairly certain that means it doesn’t count.”
“You look beautiful,” he whispers, holding you out at arm’s length. “You’re perfect, and I’m…” His voice trails off as he takes a step back from you, sighing as he takes a seat in one of the white chairs in the ready room.
Tilting your head to the side, you felt the fabric of your veil flow to the side, “You’re what, Spence?” You ask, slowly approaching the chair he was sitting in.
He furrows his brows in apprehension, “I think I might be scared of you,” he answers candidly.
You couldn’t help the giggle that spurted from your lips, “Am I really that scary?” You inquire softly, seeking more answers from him. You saw him better now, the darkness of his tux offset by the purple bowtie and handkerchief, joined with the light florals of his boutonnière. Spencer’s hair was a mess, a tell-tale sign that he had been running his hands through it.
Clearing his throat, Spencer looks up at you with a look in his eye that you can’t quite place, “I passed by your room earlier, and I heard you laughing.” He took a deep, tentative breath, “I thought you sounded so happy, and now I’m not sure I can keep you happy.”
Sighing, you duck your head slightly, “Spencer,” you say seriously, “are we still getting married today?”
“What?” He says in disbelief. “Of course we are, that’s not- I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “We’re still getting married; I’ve quite literally never wanted anything more in my entire life. I’m just worried,” he speaks quietly.
Gingerly, you step closer to the chair before he reaches out for you, placing a hand on your waist and gently guiding you down until you are sitting on his lap. “You make me so happy, Spencer Reid. I know that somewhere in that gorgeous brain of yours you know that, but I also know that you are your own worst critic.”
You’re sitting sideways on his lap with your legs latticed on top of each other. Gingerly, he places a hand on your thigh and another on the small of your back, “You deserve everything you want in the world.”
“And I want you. Doesn’t that count for something?” You ask him, emotion beginning to rise in your throat – you cannot cry, then the wedding would really be delayed. “Spencer, I’m so ecstatic that at the end of today, I get to be your wife. That’s such a privilege to me. You and I, we get to be so fucking happy today. We deserve that.” You tell him gently, “We get to be married and go on our honeymoon and come home and we can tell all of your stories to your mom, and we’ll have a baby or two and we’ll be so fucking happy.” You swallow your emotion, looking up at the light in the hope that it will clear your tears. “For the rest of our lives, we’ll be so happy.”
Then it came, “I don’t want to forget you.” His voice is almost imperceptible, but you hear him still.
The ache in his voice feels like a stab to your heart, you were well aware that his mother had Alzheimer’s. She wasn’t having a good day today, but the two of you had gone to visit her in the morning. Ever since she was diagnosed, it’s been like Spencer has a storm cloud hovering over him – he can’t be tested for the gene markers, not for a few more years. Taking a deep breath, you reach over and smooth his hair back, “If you get Alzheimer’s, I will sit down with you every day and remind you. I’m going to walk down that aisle today and tell you that I’m going to love you in sickness and in health and I’m going to mean it.”
“I’m scared,” he murmurs, leaning into your touch.
Using your free hand, you reach up and tenderly wipe a tear from his cheek, “We can take it.”
He nods in agreement with you, “Together, as a team,” he concurs, a slight amount of confidence returning to his voice.
Resting your head on his shoulder, the two of you take your moment. The last moment before you officially unite as one, and you let that moment take as long as you need. “I should go,” you whisper, looking over at the clock, the ceremony was supposed to have started by now.
Spencer leans down and kisses you, “I’ll see you out there?” He asks expectantly.
Nodding assuredly, you reach up and wipe a smudge of lipstick from his mouth, “I’ll be there.”
During the ceremony, you impressively were able to keep yourself together, until you promised him you would love him in sickness and in health.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months
Text
just a good brother
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words: 2.7k
warnings: 18+ only! smut, stepbro!rafe, stepcest, dubcon/noncon, drugging, female receiving oral, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, somnophilia, manipulation? i guess, reader is sick with like a cold or somethin
“what's wrong kid?” rafe asks, running a hand over your hair, pushing it out of your face as you keep your cheek pressed against the arm of the couch.
“sick.” you mutter, keeping your arms wrapped around your stomach, as if that could somehow make you feel better.
rafe frowns. he hates seeing you feeling down, and it's his responsibility as your step brother to make sure you are taken care of.
“what can i do for you?” rafe asks, his voice unbelievably soft. he kneels down in front of the couch so he can look you in the eye, scanning over your face, looking tired with a sheen of sweat over your skin. “did you take some medicine?”
“i did, and i still feel like crap.” you groan.
“want me to make you some soup?” rafe questions. he doesn't really know what to do to make you feel better, so he's resulting to movie stereotypes. he figures it's better than doing nothing. “or some cuddles?”
“ill take some cuddles.” you say. you really do think rafes arms wrapped around you would make you feel better. it's not weird after all, he's your step brother.
rafe nods, and you pick yourself up briefly to scooch to make room for rafe on the couch. he joins you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders, letting you move to rest your cheek against his chest.
“i got ya, sis.” rafe says, rubbing his hand over your back in long comforting strokes.
“thanks rafey.” you sigh, eyes closing. your headache has subsided a little from the medicine, causing you to relax enough to fall into a light sleep.
you are awoken by sarah bounding out the door, shouting something about john b. 
“shh, it's okay.” rafe says when you whine, but you need to stretch your tired muscles anyways, shaking out the one arm that got trapped and fell asleep during your short nap.
“ugh, i just feel gross.” you groan, burying your face in your hands.
“would a bath help maybe?” rafe questions.
“actually yeah.” you hum, thinking about being submerged in the warm water. you think you even have some epsom salt you could add to draw out some of the toxins.
“let me help you then.” rafe says. he stands up, only to swoop down and bring you into his arms, walking with ease as he heads towards the stairs. you would complain that you can walk yourself, but you're honestly not sure if you can, do you wrap your arms around rafes shoulders and let him take you all the way to his bathroom. you don't mention that your own bathroom has a jacuzzi tub as well.
“are you good to sit right here?” rafe asks as he places you on the counter.
“yeah.” you nod, leaning your head back against the mirror, watching as rafe turns the hot water on to fill up the bath before coming back over to you
“want me to help you get undressed?” rafe questions.
“wouldn't that be weird?” you raise an eyebrow. “you seeing me naked?”
“not at all. im your step brother, and im just helping you because you're sick.” rafe says, and you're not sure if it's the sickness, or the foggy mind from the medicine that makes you nod your head yes, accepting his help.
rafe assists you in standing, his hands firm in yours as you slide off the sink counter, the tub filling with water drowning out the sound of rustling clothes as rafe takes your shirt, dragging it over your head. he skips over your bra and moves to your shorts next, kneeling as he slides them down your legs. he also carefully takes your socks off before tugging at your underwear. you cringe when they stick to the slickness between your thighs, but rafe doesn't mention anything.
he stands slowly, his eyes taking in between your thighs, wondering what you, his precious little step sister, would look like with your legs spread wide open, cunt on display for him.
rafe stands in front of you while he reaches behind your back, unclipping your bra. the fever that has taken over your body is replaced with shivers as your breasts are exposed to the cool air, your nipples instantly hardening.
rafe looks down with a smirk, and you want to cover yourself, hide your shame away, but before you can move, he turns his head and looks at the bath.
“it's full.” he hums, moving to shut the water off before turning to you, beckoning you forward with his hand. you take hold, letting him bear part of your weight as you step in, the water being just on the verge of too hot.
you let out a low moan when you step the other foot in, already feeling better.
“go ahead, baby. all the way in.” rafe says, using a nickname for you that you haven't heard before. you slide down into the bath, glad that it can easily submerge your whole body as rafe drags a stool next to the lip of the tub, taking a seat next to you.
“gotta keep an eye on you just in case.” rafe says, again reaching to stroke your hair back.
“you're such a good big brother.” you tell him honestly. you feel so lucky that your mom married ward, that she brought you into this family, to rafe.
“always gonna take care of you.” rafe says, as a promise.
you lean forward, not sure what your intentions are as you pucker your lips, pressing them against his hand that rests on his knee.
“come here.” rafe coos, knowing you need this, need to show him some kind of affection as thanks, and how much you like physical touch. rafe cups your jaw, tilting your face up as he brings his own head down, letting you press kisses over his cheeks.
rafe goes to connect your lips, but you gasp and pull away.
“it's okay for siblings to kiss each other.” rafe says with a frown.
“but i don't want to get you sick.” you complain, even though you desperately want to smash your lips against his. you don't dwell too long on the thought or what it could mean.
rafe sighs, but nods, letting go of your face and letting you lean back against the tub. your eyes close as the water relaxes you.
rafe sits there quietly, but the silence isn't uncomfortable.
“baby, are you good here for a minute? gonna get you some medicine.”
“yeah.” you sit up slightly, eyes opening as you watch rafe leave the bathroom. the water in the tub has grown lukewarm at this point, so when rafe returns with a plastic cup filled with some sort of medicine, you tell him you want to get out.
“here, drink this then i will help you dry off.” rafe says when he has you wrapped in the fluffiest towel. 
you accept the cup, swirling the purple liquid before shrugging and drinking it down in one gulp, surprised by the sugary sweet taste.
“good girl.” rafe says, making a surprising flood of wetness rush to your core. 
he leads you out of the attached bathroom into his bedroom, guiding you to sit down on the bed. he takes a second towel and carefully dries your hair, squeezing strands free of water before running his fingers through, making sure your hair remains untangled.
rafe then moves to your arms, not letting you do any work yourself as he guides the towel up and down your arms until they're completely dry.
“why don't you lay back?” rafe questions, and you nod, wanting to lay down anyways as the new medicine makes your limbs feel sluggish. you guess that there was some kind of sleep aid in the medicine as well, but it could also be the effects of the sickness hitting you again.
you let rafe take your towel away before you lay back on the bed, on top of his comforter as he pats your stomach until it's dry. your eyes flutter closed when he moves upwards, able to feel his hands through the fabric of the towel as he dries your chest, seeming to pay special attention to your nipples.
“rafe, i-” you begin, wanting to apologize for how hard your nipples have pebbled but he just shakes his head.
“you don't need to explain, sis.” rafe simply says. “it's natural.”
“okay.” you whisper. you're really not sure, and rafe is your big brother after all, so he has no reason to lie to you. rafe moves lower yet again, bypassing your stomach and privates as he wipes dry your feet, lower legs, and then your thighs.
“spread your legs for me.” rafe commands. he says it so casually you almost do it before you realize that your sloppy cunt would be revealed to him.
you sit up, moving your elbows so you can look at rafe, staring expectantly at you.
“rafe, i don't know-” 
“we are siblings.” he cuts you off again. “it's okay.”
you lay back, closing your eyes, not wanting to see rafes reaction when you spread your legs, revealing your wetness. you miss rafes smirk as he covers his hand with the towel, making sure to move very gently as he works it between your legs, stroking the fabric over your cunt.
you let out a low moan when your clit is bumped, causing a whole new flood of wetness.
“i can't seem to get this spot dry…” rafe says, tossing the towel onto the bed, needing to feel your bare skin. he strokes over your folds, not doing anything more than touching around your cunt until he can't take it anymore, letting his finger swipe through your wetness.
“rafe, stop.” you pout, eyes now clenched tightly closed.
“it's okay.” rafe just hums in response, too transfixed on your pretty pussy to take your plea into account, especially when you spread your legs wider, giving him more access.
rafe smiles as his finger pushes further against your skin, now rubbing through your wetness, spreading it around your cunt. he moves his singular digit up to your clit, moving in circles around it teasingly until he presses his fingertip down directly over your clit, making your back arch as you let out a moan.
“how do you feel now?” rafe questions as his finger continues to massage your clit.
you assess your body, and you're not sure if it's from the medicine or from rafes attention on your pussy, but he only feeling you can focus on is coming from his fingertip, instead of your hurting stomach.
“really good.” you whisper. you should be concerned about what you're doing right now, but you're so glad to be alleviated from feeling sick that you can't bring yourself to care about rafe stroking over your clit.
“want me to keep making you feel good?” rafe questions.
you nod before you can hesitate. rafe climbs onto the bed, slotting himself between your thighs. you blink your eyes open when his hands rub over your inner thighs.
“it's okay.” rafe assures you again. “just a brother taking care of his sick sister.”
“okay.” you whisper. “it's okay.”
rafe smiles before diving in, burying his mouth in your cunt. he possessively licks over your pussy, like he's been waiting since your mom married his dad two years ago to get a taste of you. 
he sucks your clit into his mouth, bringing his fingers to your entrance. he pushes a singular digit in, glad when you stay relaxed, allowing him to pump his finger into you. he's sure it's a combination of the exhaustion of your sickness as well as the medicine he gave you.
rafe switches between flicking his tongue over your clit and sucking on it while his finger works you open. he can quickly add a second due to your pliability and wetness.
“rafe, i feel something-” you gasp, his fingers moving faster.
“you're gonna cum for me?” he questions. he knows you're not the most innocent, he's seen you making out quite intensely with your ex boyfriend, but he also knows that you're still a virgin. you claim you want to wait until marriage.
“i-i don't know. i think so.” you whine, hips undulating.
“it's okay, relax for me baby and cum.” rafe says, his tongue taking in your taste again, licking long stripes through your cunt, making sure to flick over your clit with every movement.
you let out a mix between a whine and a moan as his tongue and fingers becomes too much, pulling the orgasm out of you as you cum, your high pushing through your body as your legs tighten around rafes head.
rafe gently kisses your cunt through the orgasm until your thighs loosen and your eyes fall closed.
“im tired.” you whisper, not sure what rafe is doing when you feel him get off the bed, and rustle around. you don't open your eyes until he's back on the bed between your legs.
“rafe!” you shout when you realize he is kneeling between your legs, now completely naked, his cock hard and jutting away from his body, one hand at the base, slightly stroking as he looks down on your naked body.
“it's okay.” he says again, hoping that repeating it will make you believe it.
“what are you doing?” you question.
“you said you wanted to feel good, im just helping you sis.” rafe says, now stroking faster, taking up more of his shaft.
“no, no, no.” you mumble quickly. “you're my brother!”
“im your step brother.” rafe snips quickly.
“still! im supposed to be waiting until marriage! for my husband!” despite your protests, you can't bring your body to move, completely slackened against the bed.
“it doesn't count if its family.” rafe says. “besides, ive been taking such good care of you. let me keep taking care of you, and you can take care of me too.”.
“i guess…” you mumble, eyes taking in his big cock. you want to know what it feels like inside of you, and rafe grants your wish when he drapes his body over yours, lining his cock up with your entrance.
“id say stay nice and relaxed for me, but the medicine is doing it's job.” rafe says, burying his head in your shoulder as he pushes inside, filling your cunt in one smooth and easy pump.
you let out a moan, wanting to wrap your legs around rafes waist to help the angle, but your legs feel like jelly.
“that's it, sis.” rafe moans, immediately snapping his hips into yours, not bothering to start softly.
rafe keeps one hand gripping your hip while the other moves to your chest, gripping your tit harshly, but you're too numb to complain about the pain.
“more.” you whisper into rafes ear.
“dirty slut.” rafe says back. “who knew my step sis would be such a whore for her brothers cock?”
you let out a whine of complaints, but rafe begins to move faster, push deeper into you. you wish you could keep your eyes open, to look at rafe like this, but tiredness is taking over, even as he pumps into you.
“can't- can't help it.” rafe says, his voice sounding strained as he continues thrusting. “gonna cum inside of you.”
this wakes you up slightly, squirming underneath him. “you can't, rafe! im not on birth control and you're my brother!”
“say it again.” rafe grunts.
“you're my brother!” you shout again, but instead of rafe pulling out, he floods your cunt with his cum, spurting long ropes inside of you.
you squirm again, but rafe just moans when your pussy constricts around him, having the opposite effect as you milk his cock.
“im sorry sis.” rafe says. you try to push him off, but thats when you realize that it's more than just tiredness taking over your body. you're completely limp, unable to move or lift your hand.
“what did you do?” you ask, words slurring.
“ill take care of you. ill take care of everything.” rafe promises, grinding his hips when his cock begins to reharden inside of you.
you try to open your mouth, but your vision goes completely black, your jaw slackening. you pass out with the feeling of rafe beginning to move inside of you again, his cock pushing the cum further into your cervix.
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thevoidstaredback · 22 days
Text
Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant
Listen. It was an accident. He didn't mean to! It just kinda happened.
So maybe he brought a drink with enough caffeine in it to kill an elephant within a few minutes, and maybe he forgot to put the sleeve on his cup so he could tell it apart from the others, but it's not his fault! He didn't think anyone else was going to have the exact same Yeti cup as him! It's not like he'd seen any of the others carry one before. Besides, he worked with superheros. They should be smart enough to check before drinking someone else's drink.
Danny had been summoned by the Justice League Dark a few years back in order to help with a world ending crisis and he just didn't leave. It's not like he could go anywhere anyway. His ghost half hadn't grown past fourteen and his human half had stopped visibly aging at eighteen. He'd had to leave town as Danny Fenton, but he'd stayed in Amity Park as Danny Phantom. When his parents died of old age, thank god, he'd closed down the portal, stuck around for a few more years, before traveling the world as Danny Fenton.
Anyway, he'd taken up residence in the House of Mysteries after the JLD had summoned him. Constantine, at first, had been wary, but he and the rest of the JLD had grown to accept him. He was an honorary member of the team.
At some point, just after Robin had become Red Robin, Danny had been introduced to the Justice League. He liked those guys, too, and worked with them sometimes. Though, he usually only went to bug them.
Red Robin had been very interested in the fact that his was fourteen and working with grown heros, like he was one to talk, but Danny hadn't explained anything other than saying that he had died and come back. The following conversation was an interesting one that lead to Danny knowing that Nightwing was the Batman he'd met and that Batman was lost somewhere. He'd confirmed that the man was not dead, but he hadn't offered to help look for him. He probably should have, in retrospect.
Back on topic! Everyone in the JLD knew not to touch Danny's drink. They'd all seen him make it before and had been horrified on varying degrees. It's not like it could kill him. He's already half dead! So long as he only drank this specific brew as Phantom, he'd be fine.
The Justice League, apparently, didn't get the memo. He blames Constantine because Zatanna and Raven can do no wrong. No, John, he's not biased.
The point is, Red Robin just had a sip of Danny's drink. The horror he now felt was akin to the fear he held when he'd told his parents he was Phantom. (An interaction that had gone very well, thank you very much.)
Danny knew the exact moment that the vigilante realized he grabbed the wrong drink. His eyes widened to an astonishing degree, and, if he'd been able to seen his eyes behind the mask, Danny knew that the man's pupils would've completely overtaken the irises. His hands started shaking, too. Oh, no. The man's already addicted to hellish amounts of coffee. This is only going to make it worse!
Quickly, and without drawing any attention, thank the Ancients, Danny rushed over. "You, um, you okay, man?" Obviously not, but he tends to talk when he's anxious and he was certainly anxious right now. He could've possibly just killed a man via poison!
"What the fuck is in this coffee?" Red Robin asked, going to take another sip.
Danny pulled the Yeti from his hand and gave him the proper one. "Enough caffeine to kill an elephant."
"Obviously not, seeing as I'm still alive."
"Yeah, I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."
"Excuse me?"
"I-I mean-! I didn't-! You know what I mean." Caffeine is poisonous in excess, and his drink was way beyond excess, but it's the only thing that works for him as a ghost! Superpowered metabolism and all that.
"Do I?" The laugh in his voice answered for him. He took a sip from his drink and frowned at it. "I don't think any coffee will ever be enough again."
"And that's my cue to get my drink very far away from you." Danny turned, fully intent on moving to the other side of the room. Besides, the meeting was going to start as soon as the Flash and Kid Flash arrived, which would be soon. Something about one of their Rouges getting out?
"What?" Red Robin asked, "Why?" If he was a little desperate to get another sip of that coffee, he'd rather not acknowledge it.
"Because you don't need anymore lethal coffee," he muttered, "The sip you took will already keep you awake for three days at least, and it probably jump started an addiction. Best to stop it now. Besides, I need to go have my crisis on how the hell you're still alive after even a sip of this stuff."
"Again, rude." The bird themed vigilante crossed his arms as best he could while holding his cup. "If it's so dangerous, why do you drink it?"
Danny took a deliberate sip as he locked eyes with the technically younger man. "I'm dead. I don't need to worry about my heart stopping or having a seizure."
"Excuses."
"No, it's not 'excuses'. I'm saving your life."
"You're a kid. If I can't have that coffee, then you shouldn't be having it."
"First, I'm older than you. Second, I already told you: I'm dead. This isn't going to hurt me. Third, you can't tell me what to do."
"There's no way you're older than me. You're like, ten."
"I'm thirty-eight!" He balked, "I only look fourteen because I died when I was fourteen. We've been over this."
Neither noticed the entire Justice League looking at them. The two they were waiting on had arrived a few minutes ago and everyone was ready to start the meeting, but they'd been distracted by the two's conversation. Was that true? Had Phantom really died so young? They'd all been made aware he was not living, but they didn't think he'd died so young! Though, that was probably the denial speaking.
The Justice League Dark had been fully aware of this and didn't really bat an eye. Though, someone should probably get this meeting started. A potentially world ending threat was the topic, and that was a pretty important thing to discuss.
Captain Marvel was the first to pull himself together, though that was only after Atlas and Zeus had mentally slapped him out of his stupur. "As, ah, riveting as this conversation is," he stepped between the two boys- er, boy and man? "we really need to start this meeting."
Batman did not clear his throat because he'd not lost his voice in the first place. "He's right. Everyone take your seats."
Part 2
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finalgilmoregirl · 4 months
Note
omg I loved your grumpy x sunshine Mike and reader work - could you please do another scenario where the sunshine! reader is the one who has a bad day and it’s up to grumpy! Mike to comfort and help out in his own way? :) thanks for sharing your work!
a/n : i'm glad you enjoyed it, thanks for the request. fem!reader, she/her pronouns, mainly just fluff
☆ bad day : grumpy!mike schmidt x sunshine!fem!reader
mike knew something was wrong the moment he closed his door behind him and was greeted with silence has he entered the house.
you were always rushing in to greet him as soon as the sound of his keys against the door knob signaled his arrival, but today that clearly wasn't the case.
"hello?" mike called out and a moment later was met by the sight of abby creeping out of the hallway.
"where's y/n?"
"well hello to you too" the young girl rolled her eyes, walking past mike and heading for the kitchen.
"sorry" he sighed, catching her arm before she got too far and pulling her into his arms for a hug, earning a groan in response. "how was your day?"
"it was okay, but i think y/n/n's sick."
"sick? what do you mean?" mike thought back to when he last saw you just that morning. you were fine, your normally bubbly self despite the early hours, yawning between giggles as you and abby got breakfast prepared.
abby shrugged, "i don't know, she's been in bed since we got home."
mike knew you better than abby to know that you couldn't be sick. even if you were sick, you would protest and continue your daily routine as usual. something had to have been seriously wrong for you to defy from that routine and lay in bed for hours, especially with abby home. you hated to leave her alone and always tried to find something spontaneous and fun for the two of you to do if time permitted.
he warily walked into the direction of your shared bedroom and slowly opened the door that was left ajar. the lights were off and if it wasn't for the glow of the hallway light, he wouldn't have been able to see your figure on the bed in the dimness of the afternoon darkness.
but there you were, laying on your side, facing away from the door. mike could tell you weren't sleeping by the way that you were scratching at the loose threads of the faded colored duvet.
"hey" he called out softly, nearing your spot on the bed where he then took a seat on the edge, softly placing a hand on your shoulder. "you okay?" he asked, trying to gauge your emotions. that quickly cleared up however when he heard a sniffle come from you, followed by a small hiccup. you were crying.
mike leaned over to look at your face and was met with wet eyes and puffy chapped lips. his eyebrows furrowed, "hey hey hey" he said softly, moving you so you were now laying on your back, looking up at the ceiling as you tried to will the tears away. you hated crying, and you knew mike hated to see you cry. "what's wrong? what happened?"
you closed your eyes and let out a deep breath, clearly trying to control yourself. "just...had a bad day." you sighed.
"well, talk to me about it." mike wasn't always the best at dealing with emotions, but he was good at comforting you and abby, always wanting you to open up to him, even if he had trouble doing the same sometimes.
you took in another deep breath and nodded, preparing yourself to tell mike about the worst day you'd had in a while.
"i fell off the front steps after you and abby left this morning. but it was okay" you started, "i laughed, realized i scraped by knees and had to change my pants but that was okay." mike nodded along and listened, rubbing your side as you spoke. "but then i got a flat tire on my way to work." you continued, sighing as you felt the emotions building up again. "that was fine, it took me a while to get it fixed but i mananged and that was taken care of with no problems. but i was late, and usually my boss would let that kind of thing slide, but we had some hire ups there to oversee us and when one of them called me out for not being "better prepared", instead of changing the subject or at the very least, defending me after everything i've done for him, he agreed! then she basically told him that i should either be fired or have my paycheck cut." you finished with a huff and let the fresh tears that had built up in your eyes fall down your face.
mike felt a pang of hurt in his chest as he heard you recount the unfortunate events of your day. you didn't deserve to go through all of that. "why didn't you call me?" he asked, brushing the tears away from your face and attempting to flatten the hairs that had become out of place.
your hands came up to cover your face as you let out a sob. "i forgot to charge my phone!" you cried, earning a soft aww honey from mike as he kissed your temple, allowing for you to let your feelings out. after a minute of you gasping for air through your cries and furiously wiping away tears that just kept coming, you started to relax. you sighed and turned your head to your partner.
"i'm sorry you had to see me like this, how was your day?" you asked, still sniffling. mike shook his head and scoffed a laugh, even in the middle of a breakdown, you still want to talk about him.
"no don't worry about me, it was fine." he said, "how can i help you?"
you shrugged, looking down and beginning to play with mikes fingers where his hand now rested on your stomach.
"come on" he insisted, "you always help me when i'm having a bad way and i want to help you now. do you want a snack? do you want to watch a movie, or go for a drive? anything you want, i'll do it for you."
you let out a small laugh at mike's dedication, causing him to squeeze your side. "i'm serious!"
you looked back up and into his eyes, cracking a small smile. "maybe a movie." you said quietly.
"okay, i can do that." mike spoke, starting to get up from his seat on the bed until he was stopped by your hand on his arm.
"but first can you just hold me for a bit. please?" mike looked down at you with a kind of softness that he ever only reserved for you.
"yeah, i can do that too."
the end ☆
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bet-on-me-13 · 4 months
Text
Ellie wasn't born a Halfa
So! Jason just found something weird. Or rather. Someone.
A little girl, no more than 6 or 7, crying behind a dumpster in an alleyway. Now, as unfortunate as it is, this isn't that strange a sight in Gotham. Kids are always running away from home, getting lost, being left homeless after a mugging gone wrong, but this time was different.
Because the kid was glowing.
When he found her hiding behind the Dumpster, a medical gown being the only thing she had to protect herself from thr frigid Gotham Winter, he didn't hesitate to give her his Jacket and take her to his nearest safe house.
(Actually it took a little while to convince her to accept the Jacket, and even longer to get her to agree to being taken to his safe house, but they got there in the end.)
When he had finally gotten her set up in a side room of the Warehouse, with the most comfortable bed and thickest Blankets he could find, he tried asking what had happened.
"Daddy lied." She said. "He said he loved me, but then he made another kid and said he didn't care about me."
And, once again, it was unfortunately not that uncommon to see runaway kids from neglectful homes, but the way she said it raised some flags in his head.
"...and, how did you end up in Gotham?"
"I ran. He said I was a spare, and that scared me."
Well, that was even more horrible than he had anticipated. What kind of monster tells their kid that they're a spare?!
"And, I'm sorry if this is a touchy subject but why are you glowing?"
She just buried her face in the Blankets and shook her head.
"Alright then, that's fine. You can tell me when you're ready, or even not tell me at all, I'll accept either or".
For the next few weeks, Jason juggled running his newly created criminal empire and raking care of the kid. He still hadn't gotten a name out of her, but she said to call her "Dp" instead. 'It's the best I'm gonna get', he thought.
It was only after a few more weeks, right before he was about to begin his Plan of confronting Bruce about the Joker still being alive, that she approached him and agreed to tell him everything. He was actually really glad that she finally seemed to trust him enough to tell him.
"Okay Dp, you can start wherever you want."
"...well, I guess I should start with my name..." She started, "...or rather, my lack of one..."
"What?" Asked Jason in a soft voice.
"I, I don't have a name." She explained, "Daddy never gave me one. He just called me DP-2."
"...what do you mean by two?" Asked Jason.
"It-It's my Experiment Number." She said, stuttering a little, "I'm not a normal person, I'm a Clone. I was made to be daddy's perfect child, but I was just the test run. He said that I wasn't needed after he made DP-3, and that all I was good for was spare parts."
Jason felt his throat dry up. Dp was a Clone? Of who? Who made her? What right did that guy have to reject her?! Who in their right mind would make a Clone and then reject the Clone?! How dare he!
The Pits perked up
He felt the Pits rising a little, but managed to push them down. Dp needed support, not the Pits.
"It's Okay kid." He said, holding her had reassuringly. "It's perfectly okay to be different. I accept you as you are, and I'm sure as hell not gonna abandon you that easily. Or, ever really. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."
She giggled, and hugged him. A thoughtful look crossed her face, and she pulled away.
"There is one other thing...you know how I glow sometimes?" She asked.
The Pits felt a sense of dread
Jason felt like he wasn't going to like this. "Yeah?"
"Well, when I said I was meant to be a Clone, I never mentioned who of." She explained slowly. "He's a kid named Danny, and when he was 14, he had an accident where he died and came back as a Half Undead."
No...
Jason really wasn't liking where this was going.
"When Da-Vlad tried to make me, he realized that those powers couldn't be cloned..." She paused here, seemingly gathering the courage to continue. "...they needed to be added afterwards."
NO.
He didn't. He had better not have, for his own Fucking Sake, he had better not have done what Jason thinks he did.
"So one day, he took he down to the Lab, and he put me in a big machine." He voice broke a little. "He locked me in there, and then I think...that I died..."
...
For once, Jason felt completely in tune with the Pits. He was going to Kill that guy.
...
Sorry if this feels a little rushed, I kept going back to add or change parts of it.
Basically, Vlad realized that you can't Clone a Halfa. So, he made a workaround. He just stuck his first Viable Clone into a Portal, and let the machine Kill her. When he realized that it worked, he knew he had no use for Ellie anymore aside from spare parts.
And he told her as much, Vlad is a fucking asshole.
Ellie, of course, got scared and ran away. She ended up in Gotham, and was adopted by Jason right at the start of his Criminal Career.
When Jason finally hears about the rest of his kids' Backstory, he decides that Batman can wait his turn. He needs to go Kill that Vlad Bastard.
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keyotos · 24 days
Text
face-to-face
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summary ↯
aventurine has a bit of a staring problem while shopping
tags ⎯ unestablished relationship. like we are in the baby stages of their relationship. minor jealousy. lots of banter. lowk dialogue heavy.
word count ⎯ 3.3k
tana's thoughts ⎯ aventurine has taken over my brain so here's a snippet of the series i'm writing
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over the years, it's become easier for you to notice when someone stares at you. before, it was an uncomfortable feeling. you felt eyes peering over your shoulder as if you were a pest–it made your skin churn and shoulders twitch up self-consciously. now though, gazes move past you like air. you don't care as much about the opinions of other people–it's not like you'll be seeing them for long anyway.
except, today is different.
you can feel aventurine's colorful eyes trail your every move. from the moment you chose the necklace, to the moment you took it up to the cashier. he wasn't being as inconspicuous as he assumed to be: that died after the fifth glance that he shot your way while you were inspecting said necklace.
even through his glasses, aventurine's stare was burning and heavy. you never thought that such light-colored eyes could install such a hefty weight on your back, but aventurine proves you wrong.
while the cashier rings up your necklace, you look back at aventurine. coincidentally, he was already eyeing you before you even turned around. so when you catch him, he thinks that the other pieces of jewelry in the store are far more interesting than your face could ever be.
you scrunch your eyebrows and shake it off. by now, you're quite used to his unusual antics, so you brush him off. the cashier engages in light conversation with you, and then you feel it again. the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and everything feels like it's weighted down.
you bid the cashier goodbye, and aventurine follows you outside. his hands are in his pockets while he whistles, almost like he wants you to start talking. you shoot him a confused look back, your eyebrow raised and nose crinkled.
when he only whistles louder, you decide to poke the bear.
"okay, what is it?" you stop and turn to face him.
"what? you don't like my whistling?" aventurine responds with an innocent tone; he even shrugs his shoulders like he has no idea what's going on.
you huff, "not just the whistling. what's up with your staring?" you raise a hand up to his eyes, "we're supposed to be acting normal. i don't think gawking at the person you're shopping with is exactly normal."
aventurine's jolts back, like he was accused of murder instead of ogling. "i wasn't gawking."
you nod, "yeah, you were staring."
"those mean the same thing."
"i think you've been hanging out with the doctor too much," you roll your eyes and continue walking. aventurine quickly marches up to you, matching your pace sooner than you thought.
"are you trying to compare me to him? we're completely different people, you know that, right? i don't act like him at all," aventurine rambles on. his head is turned to you so that his mouth is directly next to your ear, meaning you hear all of his words. you can't tune him out like usual.
"first of all," it's your turn to look at him, "i just said you hang out with him a lot. and you do, don't you?" aventurine's lips fall into a flat as you say that.
"and second of all, stop changing the subject. why were you staring at me back there?"
the man next to you huffs, and it sounds nearly childlike, "i'm not changing the subject. i'm just trying to tell you that i'm nothing like the doctor," he says with disdain.
"you are changing the subject, otherwise you wouldn't be talking about dr. ratio as much as you are now," you glance around at the various stores surround the two of you, and for a second, you swear that you see aventurine's eyes linger on you once more.
"you did it again!" you fully stop, pointing a finger at his eyes.
aventurine has to catch himself before he falls over at your sudden stop. "what? what are you talking about?"
"you keep glancing over at me! do i have something in my face? my teeth?" a large smile blossoms across your face as you beam at aventurine. for a moment, his annoyed facade falters, and his face relaxes.
"no, and if you did, i'd tell you," he swats a hand in your face, "i don't know what you're talking about."
you roll your eyes. it's obvious that he's hiding something, because usually his lies are more believable. but when you're catching him in the act, denial is not a good way to refute false claims.
"yeah, whatever," you look around the plaza the two of you are currently in when another store catches your eye. your face instantly brightens, and you wander towards the doors.
it's another clothing store, similar to all the other ones on the planet. except, something specific drew you here, and it was the display of hats they had near the window. you walk up to it, spinning the shelf around a few times to grasp onto all the options. your eyes are wide and your mouth is slightly parted as you examine each hat with awe.
unbeknownst to you, aventurine catches up to you and finds you fumbling around with each hat on the rack.
he sneaks up behind you, mumbling, "now, that's what you call gawking."
you jump up in surprise, hitting your head on something more soft than the hard shelf. aventurine quickly redacts his hand from the top of your head.
"i'm just doing what any normal shopper would do," you rub the top of your head before going back to the hats. aventurine's long sigh rings in your ear as you browse.
"yeah, okay," he looks at the selection of hats beside you, "i doubt anything you do is normal, but–" aventurine doesn't get to finish his sentence. he hears your boisterous gasp, and his eyes are on you once more.
"do you see this!!" you lift a fedora up to his eyes, "we could match," you whisper it like a secret, as if matching would be your thing. like matching would only be a tangible thought between the two of you, and no one else.
"yeah, no," aventurine lifts the hat down and places it back on the shelf, "sorry sweetheart, but the hat is my thing."
you grimace at the pet name, "mkay. so, you're gatekeeping fedoras now?"
aventurine sputters, "what? what is gatekeeping?"
you heavily sigh, and aventurine is pretty sure you're putting on an act right now. "are you serious? how do you not know what gatekeeping is?" you shake your head as you grab the hat from the shelf, "anyway, i think i know the real reason you don't want to match."
"because it's childish? and totally not my style?"
you turn around and flick your partner on the shoulder, "no. and you really have been hanging around the doctor too much." you shudder and place the hat on your head, "i think it's because you know i would show you up in it."
aventurine muffles a chortle when he sees you put on the fedora, "keep in mind that we're in the land of dreams."
your lips curl up in the way that they always do when you're annoyed. you are not very amused by his bits today. "you suck," you take the fedora off and continue browsing for different options.
you hear aventurine's footsteps gradually get softer and softer as you keep browsing. that's fine, you think, this is his shopping trip too–he's allowed to find things for himself.
one hat after another: that's your current predicament at the moment. you're glad aventurine is off doing his own shopping, but you also wish that you glued him to the ground so he could give you a second opinion. unfortunately, he is nowhere to be seen, and you are having trouble deciding between two caps.
"do you need any help finding anything?" a voice perks up from behind you, making your shoulders jolt up. it's not the voice you want to hear, instead it belongs to a lovely retail worker.
"ah, no thank you," you smile politely and turn back to the two hats in your hand.
"okay, let me know if you need anything!" sometimes, you wonder how retail employees are able to maintain such a chipper tone of voice for hours on end. do they really want to help you or are they just saying that because they have to?
and that's when the thought hits you: either way, they're still offering themselves up. your eyes widen and you rush towards the employee.
"actually, wait!" he turns around when you touch his shoulder, "i do need help. and this is gonna sound super random–and possibly weird–but what do you think of these two hats?"
you put one hat on–a red one that seems to flop on your head, "this one is nice, right?" the employee in front of you just nods. he's a bit tense and stiff; it seems like he's trying not to offend you.
"yeah, i think it's nice too. only thing is that it's kinda flopping on my head, and caps aren't really supposed to flop," you take it off and hold it in your hand.
you're surprised the employee hasn't made his break yet, because he's still standing in front of you when you grab the other cap.
"and this one," you hold your free hand up to the new, black hat, "is the one that belongs to my favorite team. well, i guess the other one also belonged to another one of my–"
"what are you doing?" you can recognize that voice anywhere. that voice that carries a slightly whiny tone. that voice that always seems to have some judgement sprinkled throughout it.
you and the worker both seem surprised. well, the employee seems to be more intimidated than surprised, but either way, his entire face had gone pale.
"um, trying on hats?" you take off the cap and hold it up.
"i can see that," he looks over towards the employee in front of you, "but is it seriously a two-person job?"
you scrunch your eyebrows together, "i needed a second opinion."
"you could've asked me," aventurine whispered, though it sounded more like a hiss.
"i think someone else needs help," the employee takes a few steps back from the both of you, "i hope you find everything!" there it is. he tries his best to sound cheerful, but his voice quivered as he moved away from the two of you.
"he was such a nice guy," you said as you waved goodbye. aventurine did not look as pleased as you did.
"we're supposed to be laying low. you know that, right?" the blond emphasizes.
you shake him off, "yeah, and tell me how a regular retail worker is gonna rat us out? what about us possibly screams 'sleuth'?"
"we're buying hats." aventurine isn't very proud of his answer, and he can tell that you thought it was weak as well.
"so everyone that buys hats are suspicious?" you retort, putting on the cap you previously took off. "do i look like a murderer to you?"
aventurine sighs. his fingers go to his temples and you're sure that you've brought him to his last nerve.
"this hat is better than the other one," he puts the red one back onto the shelf. "the other one practically fell on your face. i doubt you could even see with that one."
you look at the red hat and then look back at aventurine, furrowing your eyebrows together. "that was a specific answer. i never even showed you what the red hat looked like."
aventurine cleared his throat, and the ceiling must look extra nice, "i overheard the other guy talking. you're loud, y'know that?"
your face immediately breaks out in a huge grin, so wide and bright that aventurine looks back at you for a mere second, before turning back to the ceiling.
"you were doing it again!! the staring! goodness, i thought you were good at lying," you laugh, slapping him on the shoulder to garner his attention, "admit it. i've caught you."
"i'm being serious. you're a little loud," aventurine crosses his arms, biting on the inside of his cheek.
"la-la-la-la. can't hear you. guess i'm speaking too loudly to notice," you put the black cap on again–the brim sticking the opposite direction–and look in the mirror. "hey, since you're here, can you give me another opinion."
aventurine nods for you to continue, and you smile, "perfect. does this make me look like a cool galactic baseball player?"
this is what takes him aback, "huh? why would you want to look like that?"
"well, i'm going to a game soon, and i didn't want to look like a fake fan," you shrug and look in the mirror again. "but now that i'm really looking at myself, i think i’d be an amazing galactic baseballer. what do you think?”
you pretend to hold a baseball bat in your hands, getting into a hitter stance. you make sound effects as you swing your pretend-bat into aventurine's chest, aiming for the open hole in the middle.
aventurine reaches over your head, "well first of all, i'm pretty sure baseball players wear their caps the right way." he grabs your hat and places it on the right way, but not without making sure the brim covered your eyes.
"are you serious right now?!" you yelp, quickly pulling up the hat so you can regain your vision.
and there aventurine is, staring at you again.
you briefly gulp before broadcasting, "you're staring!" you march closer to him. "i caught you!" you're only inches apart now. "and it was obvious!" your finger is pointed at his eyes, but unlike earlier, your finger is much closer.
if you had gotten only an inch closer, you would be able to feel aventurine's heartbeat, despite not even being chest-to-chest.
"okay, okay," aventurine is the first one to step back, and you feel something sinking, "but that was only once."
"yeah, whatever. 'once.' not like i haven't caught you a million other times," you shook your head and regained your baseball posture, "you can't hide from these sharp eyes. told you i'd be a great galactic baseballer."
the blond chuckles, and your eyebrows raise up at the sound, "keep dreaming."
"well, a really weird guy did tell me earlier that we are in the land of dreams. so, if i dreamt that i could be a galactic baseballer, it'd actually happen."
aventurine tilts your hat down once more, dismissing your cries while he does it.
"remember what i said about acting normal?"
"this is actually pretty normal for me," you take the hat off.
"can't argue with that," aventurine looks towards the cashier and then back at you. you raise an eyebrow, as if to raise the question, "is there something wrong with my hair?"
if there is, aventurine doesn't do something about it. surprising, since he's practically been doing something this whole trip. "are you ready to go up?" he asks you.
"you're not gonna get anything?" you look around the store, "we can look at stuff for you. there's tons of things here."
aventurine shakes his head and gives you a wink, "i've got everything i need." you suck in a sharp breath, and you try to focus on anything else other than how fast your heart begins to beat. when aventurine turns his back away from you, then you gulp.
when the two of you get to the cash register, you stand next to aventurine, preparing to pay. you're well aware of how costly things on penacony are–after all, this whole planet is like a tourist attraction. that's why you're paying with card instead of the usual credits.
"did you find everything?" the cashier asks you. you smile at the woman and nod, making idle chatter with her while aventurine idly stands next to you.
the woman turns over to aventurine, "i'm guessing you also want to pay for your item too?"
it's aventurine's turn to plaster a smile on his face. from what you've gathered from being with him so often, his smiles are often sly. some would compare it to the cheshire cat, but you thought he rather resembled an evil cartoon villain.
"yes ma'am," his saccharine voice masked his villain grin, "do you still have it?"
"that i do," she responds, grabbing something from underneath the counter. your eyes fly from the woman to aventurine. you simply couldn't believe what you were looking at.
"you're buying the freaking feodora?" your posture straightens and you beam up at him, "i knew you wanted to match!"
"slow your roll," aventurine puts a hand up to you, "who said i was buying this for you?"
your smile drops and you shove his shoulder, "are you serious? i thought you didn't like that hat."
"i didn't not like the hat. i just didn't like the thought of us matching," he tilts his head to smirk at you.
the cashier's eye's bounce between you two, not knowing whose side to take. eventually, she settles for ringing your cap and aventurine's feodora up, not even wanting to say a word.
"alright, who's paying?" she looks up at the both of you.
"i am," you and aventurine say in unison. your face contorts while aventurine displays a confused expression.
"um," you whisper, stepping closer to the blond next to you, "i'm paying."
"um," aventurine mocks you, "you're broke."
"not broke!" you kick his shin, and aventurine grips onto the counter in order to keep his balance, "just budgeting."
"yeah, and you know who don't have to budget? people that aren't broke."
"so he's paying?" the cashier interrupts. you step away from aventurine out of shame. he can have this.
when aventurine sees you put away your wallet, he proudly hands his card up to the woman in front of you. when she looks down to scan his card, he shoots you a sly look and a wink. your mouth rests in a flat line and your eyes show no signs of hilarity.
the moment the two of you step out of the store, you immediately go for aventurine's bag. before he could even catch you, the hat is already in your hands.
"we can switch!" you try to reason with him, "you would be a great baseball player. just, y'know, not as great as me."
"and..." you sing, "we wouldn't match. wouldn't that suit both of our goals?"
aventurine looks over at you, and his gaze is softer. this time, you don't get onto him for gawking. how could you, when he's looking at you like that? you don't think you've ever seen him like that... ever.
you squint your eyes, trying to decipher his real expression. but there's nothing for you to investigate.
"what?" you ask.
"you can keep it."
immediately you take a step back, nearly bumping into a bystander walking behind you. you shout a quick apology before returning back to aventurine, "didn't you buy this for yourself though? what's the point of me keeping it?"
"i just realized that it didn't go with any of the outfits i have," he sighed, looking into the distance, "what a waste of money. so, it's yours."
"what kind of bullshit is that?" you scold the blond, "you always have to think about whether or not you'd actually wear the item before you buy it. that's like... number one rule of shopping."
"i don't shop that much," aventurine shrugs, glancing at you one last time before focusing on the street ahead. he bites the inside of his cheek and tries his hardest not to look to the side. you'd give him hell for it.
but you're not focused on that. everything's slow, and it feels like the street is empty.
"well, then we're gonna have to go more often."
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heartfullofleeches · 6 months
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best friend yans partner making reader cry and yan realizes that it’s not their arms that reader runs to for comfort anymore🫢
You're happy for them.
In the beginning, it was just you and them. Growing up, they had always been a quiet kid. Clung to the hip of the first person who gave them the time of day. You didn't regret your decision then and you don't now. The years you had together were some of the best and you could only wish them happiness going forward. You were so proud of them for building the courage to broaden their friend group... You only wish they let new people in without shutting the old out.
You promised yourself you wouldn't cry when you found out you had to share them with someone else. You promised you wouldn't cry when they cancelled plans to focus on their new relationship. You promised you wouldn't cry when they finally replied to all your calls and texts just to put an end to your life long friendship.
You don't blame them for saying goodbye. It'd hurt less if they had done it in person, but you're adults now - friendships and silly promises are secondary when you've found true love. That's what they said this was in their final message to you- and so you believe them. Won't have much time for movie nights and hanging out like you used to while they're building a life with someone else, so you were bound to drift apart anyway. Everyone always said a bond like yours would stand the test of time, but clearly they were wrong. The best thing you can do for them and yourself is keep your chin high and swallow the tears. As much as it hurts, you won't cry. You won't cry.
"Ugh.. are you are stalker now? It's kind of pathetic for you to cling onto someone you never dated When will it get through your thick skull - they don't need you anymore."
You won't cry. It was pure coincidence that you ran into them again. It makes sense after all the time you've spent together the places you frequented would align. Your old best friend and their new lover had taken a trip to the mall on the day your new acquaintance had taken you to your old stomping grounds to cheer you up. Their partner was like a vulture - watching you from afar and awaiting the second you both were alone to strike. Honestly, it seemed like they didn't even notice you which only teared down another layer of your fragile defense. You want to go home, but you had to wait for your companion. Unlike others - you'd never leave anyone behind.
"They told me all about what it was like when you were younger. How you sucked up every minute of their time and made every thought they had all about you. You're honestly disgusting, you know that?"
Your throat tightens as you're backed into a metaphorical corner. That's not true. You tried to be there for them. They're the one that rejected everyone that wasn't you. Is that really how they viewed you? How they felt about you? Sharp intakes of air build up to the first exasperated wail that rips itself from you. It all crumbles from there. Tears pour from your tired eyes and spent heart. You try so hard to keep it in, wiping at your face and muffling your cries with quivering lips - but they only flood harder. Your aggressor attempts to flee from the scene of the crime as two pairs of footsteps quickly approach.
"Y/n?....."
"Y/n!...."
Sneakers squeak along the mall floor as one sprints to your side, going out of their way to jam their elbow in the ribs of your aggressor as they squeeze past them to get to you. The other stands stagnant as their lover nears - watching as you fall weightless into their arms. They draw back the foot pointed in your direction at first witness to your cries.
"Baby, what happened! Are you okay? This is why I told you to come into the store with me. Calm down, breathe. It's okay. I'm here."
Soft fingers brush away your tears. They dry quicker against someone else's skin. Your head falls to their chest, ears tuned to the gentle beat of their heart to calm the frantic beats in your own. Your companion takes their hand in yours, kissing the back of your knuckles as you follow their instruction and breathe in slowly.
"That's it.... I'm right here. I'll always be right here for you."
Their words are like a dagger to those unfortunate to listen. A blade dug deeper by your redden eyes and the small smile that forms as you gently squeeze your savior's hand. Once upon a time, it was their hand you held when at your worse - just as yours had pulled them out of the wreck their life was before they meet you. You used to be each other's shoulder to cry on. Safe houses from a world that never understood you or bothered to care. They long for that moment in time, but in that instance it all felt too perfect. If they hadn't let you go and found comfort elsewhere they'd only hurt you in the end - crush and buried beneath the weight of the ever-changing, conflicting tide of their feelings for you.
Laughter draws them back to the cruel reality they now face as punishment for their selfish decision.
"I'm fine now - I swear!"
"Nope! Since you won't tell me what's wrong, we ain't stopping until you're all smiles. We're going to hit up every store in this mall until it closes and you find something that completely takes your mind off whatever got you down. As your new best friend, it's my duty to make sure your heart is in good shape.... So I can steal it later on."
"You're such a dick...." Nudging their arm with your elbow, you giggle - then sigh. "Well, if you're paying, I guess I can't complain. Best be on our way then."
A passing glances comes not from you, but from the victor of this scenario. Your new best friend locks an arm around your waist, placing a kiss to your hair before mouthing a single word over your shoulder.
"mine."
A hand reaches out as you disappear into the crowd. It's falls not into the grasp of the one its heart truly desires, and instead into the iron grip of the person they chose as a cheap imitation.
"Can you believe those two?"
".... I'm going to fucking kill that bastard."
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cosmiiwrites · 2 months
Text
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ enemies to lovers
.ೃ࿐ adam x fem!reader .ೃ࿐
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⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ summary: in which you and adam find out you don't hate each other as much as you think you do cw: NSFW, fem!reader, p in v, oral (fem recieving), creampie, adam (he's his own warning), hair pulling, semi-public sex, cussing a/n: FINALLY DONE !! first smut fic though, so apologies if some things dont make sense :(
you hated adam. you hated his cocky attitude and his fuckboy persona. and most of all, you hated how everyone stayed quiet about it. him being the first man didn't mean jack shit to you. if he was being an egotistical asshole? you won't hesitate to put him in his place. even if that meant starting an argument in front of the promenade, putting your hatred for one another on display.
adam, on the other hand, loved someone who could match his abrasive attitude. and it meant more that you went out of your way to shout insults at him every chance you got. to be honest? it turned him on. but he would rather die then admit that. during meetings, you two would bicker non-stop, shooting daggers at each other from across the table. so yes, everyone and their mothers knew about you and adam's ongoing feud. what did everyone also know? the unspoken sexual tension between you two. the tension so thick it was tangible. the tension everyone knew about except the two idiots who claimed they hated each other. even lute was getting sick of it. "what a bitch, am i right?" "yes, sir." "she's just salty because i'd never go for a cunt like her," "mhm, sir." "maybe i sho-" "you know what i just remembered? sera saying she had something to discuss with me. ill be leaving now, sir." adam shot her a confused look. it wasnt like lute to walk out on a conversation so abruptly. (spoiler alert, she just didnt want to hear adam talk about you for the millionth time today) "well, uh, shit, okay." upon leaving, adam bumped into a familiar face. "well, well, well, if it isn't-" you slid right past him, ignoring any advance he'd tried making towards you. "what the fuck?" adam's face grew warm from embarrassment. did you just ignore him? he planted himself in front of you, hoping to make a statement. his tall figure hovered over yours. "ignoring me, hm? is that any way to treat the first man?" he teased. you sighed and rubbed your forehead in annoyance before answering, "if by 'first man' you mean 'overly-confident egomaniac' then yes." that's what adam liked about you; you didnt kiss his ass 24/7 like all the other angels. you didnt crave his approval. "i seriously don't understand how people can tolerate being around you," you groaned.
"oh fuck off, the ladies love me," he grinned. "especially in be-" you threw your hand to cover his mouth. "ugh, spare me the details, you gross fuck." your statement only widened his shit-eating grin. "why, jealous?" he teased, dragging on the s. "fuck, no! i feel bad for all the women you've slept with, they've probably faked all their orgasms as to not hurt your fragile ego." you retorted. adam's smirk dropped. he couldn’t BELIEVE you thought he was incapable of pleasuring a woman. luckily for you, his anger quickly turned to interest as an idea popped up in adam's head. he leaned into your ear, voice low and husky, "you wanna bet on that?"
taken aback from his sudden offer , you backed up until your back hit the wall of the alley you two were in. “what,” you breathed, “are you on about?”
“if i can make you cum,” adam started, “you have to admit that one; im the dick-fuckin’-master, and two; i AM capable of pleasuring a woman. deal?” adam's said a ton of dumb shit, but this? you let out a boisterous laugh. “are you serious?” but after a few beats of unearthly silence, thats when you knew he was. “well, shit.” you did want a chance at proving him wrong and taking down his ego. to be fair, no one’s made you cum in a long, long time. and you were always up for a challenge.
you grabbed adam by the collar and dragged him down to your level.
“deal.”
———————————————————————
thats how you found yourself up against a wall, being eaten out by the first man, the first soul in heaven, and your well-known rival.
you didnt want to admit it, but god, this man was good with his tongue. not to mention his hands.
he gripped your thighs tightly, spreading them apart and smirking up at you. your flustered face drove him mad, only fueling his desire for you. its not his fault you looked so fuckin’ cute. maybe he should get you like this more often…
adam shamelessly licked up and down your entrance, earning small involuntary whimpers from you. he dragged his hand down your thigh to rub circles on your clit, making you twitch under his touch. “taste so fuckin’ good,” he growled. wanting more, you tugged at his hair, forcing his tongue to prod at your cunt. “impatient, are we? and to think you hated me.”
it was like he was waiting for this exact moment; for adam ate like a man starved. like he hadn’t eaten in days, and you were the only thing that could nourish him.
suddenly, he sunk his long tongue into your clit, “shit, adam!” he smirked against your cunt. “enjoying y’self, babe?” “f-fuck—haah—you!” was all you can manage, before he sunk his tongue deeper into you, fingers now circling your clit twice as fast. “dont worry, tits, you’ll be doing that in a bit.”
it wasnt long before you had cum all over his tongue and face, panting like a maniac. you had already lost the bet, but you didnt care. nor had any of you two mentioned it. lost in a drunken haze, all you wanted was his cock buried inside of you.
you quickly recovered from your high and grinded against his painfully hard erection. “s-shit, babe, didn’t take you for a desperate whore,” adams words were slurred, his need for you fogging his brain. “s-shut up,” you retorted “looks like you can still talk back,” he grinned. “i’ll fuck that bratty attitude out of you.” “youve yet to do so,” you teased. “you bluffing, dickmaster?” oh, now you’ve got him in a chokehold.
those would be your famous last words, before adam would recklessly pound into you.
adam quickly undid his boxers, revealing his hard cock, precum already spilling from his tip. you thought he was joking when he called himself the ‘dickmaster.’ you silently wondered how that would fit inside of you. “see how fuckin’ worked up you get me, tits?” adam babbled.
he bent you over, your wrists just above your head.
you were about to reply with a snarky comeback when he pushed his cock into you, no warning beforehand.
“i fuckin’ knew it,” he said. “tight as shit. bet no one’s fucked you as good as im about to, huh?” you wanted to respond, to deny his accusations, but the only sounds that left your mouth were desperate moans and whimpers. it was like music to his ears, fueling him to fuck you brainless.
his large size stung, but pain quickly turned to pleasure when he began to move.
he picked up his pace, pounding into you brutally. it was oh, so sinful. but adam would go to hell anyday if that meant he could have your tight little cunt all to himself.
adam took a fistful of your hair, forcing your back to arch. when you didnt protest, adam threw a line of praise at you. “there we go, good fuckin’ girl, just like that…” the position you were in was a bit uncomfortable, but you quickly stopped paying attention to that when adam thrusted into you sharply. “s-so good f’me,” he babbled.
you knew he was almost at his peak when his thrusts grew sloppy. “shit, almost there, fuck!” he groaned. “m-me too, adam, fuck,”
in one deep thrust, he buried himself inside of you, spilling his cum. you felt your stomach grow warm, full of adam’s seed.
adam was still inside of you, even after you both had came. there were no sounds other than your pants and his huffs. thank god this was an empty street.
finally, he pulled out of you. you whined at the loss of contact, earning you a cheeky grin.
“so,” he said, breaking the silence. “how was that for pleasuring a woman, hmmm?” adam smirked. “still hate me?”
“always, just a little less now.”
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counterpunches · 2 years
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[[@else: I suppose it's time to tell my abortion story. Of the abortion that didn't happen, that led to me.
A lot of anti-abortion people put words & thoughts into the mouths of the unborn.
Well, I'm one that was recommended to stay unborn, who got born, and here's what I say.
My mother found our very early in her pregnancy that there was an extremely high risk to her if she continued.
Terminating the pregnancy was floated by one of the doctors. It would have been legal due to the risk to her, but heavily stigmatized.
Her family was deeply Catholic. She was deeply Catholic.
She did not terminate. The risk became a reality.
So I'm here, and she's not.
I'm glad to be here.
It is hard to put into words the gratitude you feel to a mother who sacrificed herself entirely for you, and I'm not going to try here.
Because I'm also very angry.
Without in any way taking away from the courage and selflessness with which she bore her situation and which she showed in all aspects of her life
I don't believe she ever really felt like she had a true choice.
The stigma, the religious dogma, the judgement - everything she'd ever known - told her she could not save her own life.
Her parents would have, however sadly, believed she'd go to hell. Her family and friends and community would have judged her.
Everyone she'd ever loved believed it was wrong. And so she believed it was wrong.
Needlessly.
I don't know what choice she would have made if it had been a true choice.
Maybe she would have chosen me anyway. Maybe she would have chosen to stay for her two already-existing children and for all those who loved her so deeply.
But she should have had a real, true choice.
Would I trade being here for that?
In a heartbeat. Without hesitation.
My siblings could have grown up with their mother.
My grandparents could have seen their beloved daughter live out her beautiful life, instead of mourning her every day until their deaths.
Her brothers and sisters would not still thirty years later feel the pain of losing the sistre they loved so much.
She could have continued to bring the light to the world that she had always brought, that I have heard so much about.
My father perhaps would not have descended into the grief & guilt that destroyed him, our relationship with him, the innocence of our childhoods.
Now, I think about how my young nieces & nephews will grow up without her, without the kind of grandmother I had. That pains me too.
I grew up in the devastation of her death.
I've watched the consequences of it play out for thirty years.
I can see what might have been differently if she'd had a true choice and it snatches my breath away, to see the suffering that didn't have to be for the ones I love most.
I know that it is not my family, but it is also profoundly difficult to know that it is because of me.
Or to be more exact, because the world did not allow my mother her right to a true choice, and my being here is perhaps a result of that.
It's not a burden I'd wish on anyone
I wish that I could have told her. It's okay. Stay. Live. Be happy.
I wish I could know that she knew that that was more than ok.
Don't I want to be here? Don't I want to be alive, aren't I glad to live??
Now that I'm here, sure. But had I never been, what would I have lost? Nothing.
You can't miss what you never had. Can't lose anything when you never existed.
There's no pain or loss in not existing.
I didn't exist then, to want anything. I didn't exist to hope or wish or fear anything.
I didn't exist back then. Not me. There was a possibility. An idea, a hope maybe. Some cells, a process in her body. Not me, any more than a sperm was me or an egg was me.
*I" didn't become until much later. Til I was born.
My mother wouldn't have taken anything from me or cause me any pain by living for herself, because I didn't exist to lose anything.
There was so much pain, so much loss in losing her. Loss that will ripple down generations.
So I will say to my dying breath, as the person who only lives because she didn't abort, that whatever she thought or chose or did not chose, she should have had a real choice to abort.
That she should have felt that aborting me was valid and good a choice as not.
Everyone should feel that, and have real access to enact that choice without obstruction or shame or question.
Whether it is their actual life at risk, or not. A forced pregnancy can be the death of many things, not just the end of ther person's life.
Having me took away from the world everything that my mother could have given it.
Forcing someone to have a child against their will can take away what that person could be and bring if they had their choice, whether they live through the pregnancy or not.
Most of all it takes away their right - their inalienable right - to choose how they live their life in their own body.
A non-person, a hypothetical future event, the birth of someone who doesn't exist yet, doesn't have that right.
Other people, who claim to speak for the unborn do not have that right.
We all lose so much by it. It can cause such pain and suffering, for child-bearers, for children, for everyone.
Do not pretend to speak for the unborn.
Do not pretend to speak for the children born against their mother's will.
Do not pretend that you care for them while you hide misogyny behind dogma.
My mother deserved her right to a real choice.
Everyone does. Unconditionally.
As the child who could have been aborted, I tell you - to oppose that right, let alone work to criminalize it, is unforgivable.
I'd like to emphasize because I didn't say it loud enough in the original thread:
There doesn't need to be a tragic story or a threat to life to make abortion ok.
It can be simply because you don't want to have a child. That's all. You still have the right to a choice.
I told my sad story because:
a) it is important to me to counter the rhetoric of anti-choice folks, that claims that if the unborn could speak they would be anti-choice
b) forced pregnancies can really f*ck up lives in many ways and that needs to be recognized.
But:
There shouldn't have to be a tale of woe to justify bodily autonomy.
It's a right. An absolute right. It should be protected by law.
That's it. That's all.
Last thingL I want this point to be heard, but I don't particularly want to deal with blowing up on twitter.
I will probably lock my account down at some point, but I would like this still to be shared. Maybe use an unroll app and share from there if you would like to.]]
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dark-night-hero · 6 months
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Imagine a Yandere Kamisato Ayato who would do anything to make you his.
Imagine a meticulous Yandere Ayato who would slowly but surely isolate you from the rest of the world, would make sure you have no one to run into but him and only him. He did not even know when it start, was it the first time he have met you? Or was it during the times in his lowest and you were there to comfort him? He don't know, but if there was something he knew other than to make his clan prosperous again, that is to make you his and only his.
Imagine it started with rumors. It started with nonsense rumors into harmful rumors that surely affect you. The way people looks at you, the way you knew they were talking about you. You did not even do anything wrong and yet they kept talking about you. "What's wrong hmmm? Can you tell me what's wrong (First name)?" "... My lord..." He will make sure he would be the only person you could open up to. He thought as he felt a shiver down his spine as you pull him into an embrace, sniffing and holding on into him as you cried. Just like who you were there at his lowest, he would make sure he was there too, even if he was the cause of that downfall that you would never knew.
Imagine Yandere Ayato who would do anything to have you as his spouse despite the disapproval of his retainers. Be it means blackmailing or wiping them clean with all sorts of reasons of corruption. Yandere Ayato whom when he finally have you in the palm of his hands, would make sure to never let step outside the estate. Saying the world is to dangerous for you to venture. That as long as you stay by his side, you'll be safe and sound, away from the danger and humors going and might come into you. The truth is you've always been so kind, not only to him but also to others, and afraid that that kindness would be taken away from him. He would keep you by his only and only by his side.
Imagine knowing very well of what he was doing. Knowing he was the root of all the rumors that causes your reputation downfall in the lands of Inazuma. "Darling, what do you think of a simple marriage? Just the two of us uhm ugh, and maybe a few guests, my sister- thoma-" "Anything is fine, Ayato." You smile sweetly at him before taking his hand that was place on top of yours and pulling it close on your mouth before giving he back of his hand a kiss. "I'll be here by your side and only by your side, so do whatever you pleased."
Imagine a shiver down his spine, a crazy flustered look on his face, the way his eyes twitch in a bliss of happiness. "Ohhhh how I love you very much, darling." He laughs as he pull you into his arms. "I know Ayato, and I love you too, very, very much." You chuckle and embrace him back, a smirk making it's way on your lips.
Imagine, the thing about a crazy, love sick, manipulative, Yandere Ayato is that you don't mind. Because you were just as crazy and love sick when it comes to him. And knowing your love, loves you as much and as crazy as you were with him. It was trully a great pleasure. "I'm yours, but that means you're mine, okay?"
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°
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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months
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two for the price of one | joel & tommy miller
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Summary | Tommy has always been the loyal and doting boyfriend, the literal man of your dreams. Ready to take things to the next step, you soon find that Tommy is unable to have children. A family is all you've ever wanted, and neither of you are going to let this get in your way. Enter Joel, dark and mysterious and willing to do anything for his little brother, including fucking his girlfriend to get her pregnant. That's what brothers are for, right?
Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader & Tommy Miller x F!Reader
Warnings | Like, I literally don't even know anymore. Tommy is a cuck in this one, Joel is a dirty talking menace. Pre/No Outbreak AU. Talk of infertility, mention of consuming alcohol, Breeding kink, girlfriend sharing, masterbation (M), oral (F receiving), unprotected PiV sex, creampie, plenty of dirty talk, praise kink.
Word Count | 4.2k
Authors Note | I just want to shoutout the anon who left this request in my inbox. It rotted my brain and now we're here. Special shoutout to the JFC - specifically @sinsofsummers for telling me I could do this and @dinsdjrn and @cavillscurls for their help with some of the dialogue here. This is just filth. Pure unadulterated filth. Enjoy.
That damn piece of paper was haunting you, even from its place deep in the drawer where Tommy had stuffed it when he’d opened it and showed you. Its words telling you what you’d both anticipated but had wanted to prove wrong. Tommy. Infertile. Dashing those hopes of your beautiful babies with thick curls and big, beautiful eyes. He’d taken it hard, like it was an abject failure of his own manhood – the one thing he should be able to do beyond anything else, give you the child you so desperately yearned for, he couldn’t. 
There was a week of tension, where you treaded on eggshells, trying not to bring it up, despite desperately wanting to discuss other options. Then came his acceptance of his emotions, late at night, curled up behind you in bed. It started with a light sniffle, then you could feel his tears drip onto the skin of your shoulders, then the whole-body sobs as he held you, told you he was sorry. You’d turned in his arms, wrapped your arms around his neck and held him, whispering softly that it was okay, that it didn’t matter, that you had options. You could still have a family, just perhaps not in the traditional sense. 
Then came the weeks of appointments. You’d met with an adoption agency first. They’d talked you through the application process, what they expected of you, talked about the type of family you want, but Tommy had been adamantly against it for your first child. He wanted something borne of your blood, of your flesh, even if it wasn’t his that joined it. 
Then there were the medical appointments talk of special drugs Tommy could take, or the possibility of IVF, even a sperm donor. It had started to look like these could be an option until the cost was placed in front of you. There was no way either of you could afford it, not even together, not even if you sold the house for something smaller. You’d reached the end of the line with no answers and the thought that you’d have to resign yourself to being childless. 
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? You could take all the love you’d wrapped up for a baby and put it somewhere else. You could love your niece Sarah harder, give some of it to the children you worked with each day at the school – you didn’t need to be a mother to feel complete. The longer you sat with it though, the more you felt something missing. The end of the line was frustrating and lonely. That was, until Tommy came up with an alternative. 
It's late on a Thursday evening. You’ve just cleaned up from dinner and you’re lounging on the couch with Tommy’s arms wrapped around you, your head resting on one of his shoulders. 
“Can I ask you somethin’?” He muses above, settling his lips on the crown of your head. 
“Always.” You squeeze the hand you’re resting on his thigh. 
“What if we ask Joel?” 
“To fix the back steps?” You ask, referencing the rotting steps that had needed sorting since winter cleared, “Can’t you just do it yourself?” 
“No sugar,” He clears his throat, “Y’know what, forget I said anythin’.” 
“Tommy,” You grumble, pushing yourself off his shoulder, you rest an arm across the back of the couch where he’s sitting, “You can’t just say that and not elaborate.” 
He’s nervous. You can see the bouncing of his knee, something you’d clocked was a nervous habit on your first date. He’s also running a hand along the back of his neck, exactly what he always does when he’s got to say something difficult. You can also see the start of prickles of sweat on his brow. He’s not just nervous, he’s uncomfortable. You rest a hand on his shoulder, the way he’d taught you to do it when you’d first met, when he was still grappling with the anxiety and PTSD of being a veteran. 
“I’m worried I’m gonna scare you, sugar.” 
You run a hand through his thick head of curls, “Tommy, I’m not going anywhere.” 
“Promise to just hear me out before freaking out, okay?” 
You stick your pinky up, motioning for him to join his own with yours, “Pinky swear, Tommy Miller.” 
 “What if we ask Joel, you know….” He trails off, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he searches for the words he needs, “Fuck, I don’t even know how to say it.” 
“Just take a deep breath and say it all at once.” 
He takes a deep breath in like you instructed, blowing it out through his mouth, “What if we ask Joel to help with gettin’ you pregnant?” 
It takes a minute for what he’s said to properly sink it. Your first train of thought, stupidly, is that Joel is a carpenter, not a doctor, so there’s no possible way he’s qualified to help with this. Then it washes over you all at once. Heat prickling at your cheeks, breath hitching in your throat, you think you might be sick. 
“You want me to sleep with your brother?” You ask, tone coming out far more accusatory than intended, you soften your expression and squeeze his shoulder when you notice how hurt he looks. 
“Well, it certainly ain’t my first option, or the second and third for that matter,” He sighs, “Look, it was stupid, forget I asked.” 
He moves to get up from the couch, but you’re dragging him back down, fingers gripped around his wrist, “It’s not stupid Tommy, but you gotta help me understand how this is an option.” 
He’s looking at you now, big brown eyes with a hint of sadness staring into your own. He cups your cheek in one of his palms, “I know how bad you want this sugar, how much you want a family,” He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “And I’m sorry I can’t give that to you, sorry we can’t afford the fancy drugs that would make this easier,” He sighs deeply, “The only option we have is to do somethin’ like this, and if I’m gonna let another man touch you, I want it to be someone I trust, and he’s the only person I would ever trust with this,” He rubs a hand over his face, “Least I know it might have a chance of lookin’ somethin’ like me too, instead of goddamn Steven from Ohio or whoever they’d use.” 
You feel your gut twist when he speaks. This absolutely batshit crazy idea is actually coming from an incredible place of care. He knows you want a child; lord knows you were trying your hardest together to make it happen before that damn piece of paper had to go and ruin it all. 
“You wouldn’t find it weird, knowing I’d had sex with your brother?” 
“Well, it doesn’t mean anythin’, does it baby?” 
“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” You shrug, it was just a means to an end, “You think he’ll agree?” 
“I don’t know baby,” He answers honestly, wrapping you back into his arms, “I’ll take him out this weekend, ask him and see what he thinks.” 
There’s still something here that doesn’t sit right with you. Sure, it makes sense, and of all the people who you could choose for yourself you’d probably have settled on Joel too. Stoic and sensible Joel, brooding and grumpy Joel. He’d always been kind, had welcomed you into the family with open arms, praised you multiple times for finally keeping his brother on the straight and narrow. He was a good man, loved his little girl with all his heart, would never hurt a hair on your head, but you were still uncomfortable. 
“If he does agree,” You shift nervously on the couch, “I want you to be there.” 
“You don’t trust him?” 
“No, of course I trust him Tommy,” You sigh, “I’d just feel more comfortable if you were there.” 
“Anythin’ for you, sugar.” 
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It’s early on Sunday morning when Tommy rolls into bed, 3am to be exact, smelling of whiskey to tell you he’s finally asked Joel to help you. He slinks onto bed and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing over your neck and down your shoulder to wake you. When you finally grumble and admit you’re very muchawake now, with his hand gripping your hip, he’s speaking in a hushed whisper. 
“He said yes.” 
“He take much convincing?” You ask, shuffling around in his arms so you’re facing him, his face gripped in your palms. 
“He was wary, thought I’d lost my mind for a good few minutes,” Tommy leans forward, pressing a kiss to your lips, “Told him it was my idea and you’d thought the same, but he came around, think he knows how much we both want this.” 
A part of you had thought he’d say no. That there was no way that stoic, sensible Joel would ever consider sleeping with his brother’s girlfriend in order to knock her up, but he’d proved himself a man of many surprises before. As Tommy presses kisses to your lips and settles you both to sleep, there’s the bubbling of nerves in your belly, of doubt. Are you really doing the right thing? Is this going to make the dynamic between the three of you awkward as hell? Sure, you’re all grown adults and this is just a means to an end, but there’s still the unknown of what comes after.  
Tommy goes out that morning and brings back a bag, filled with ovulation tests and, perhaps a little prematurely, pregnancy tests. You do one of the ovulation tests that morning and as expected, the screen shows a sad face, gratefully showing you that you still have time to prepare for what you’re going to do. Three days later when you do the test again, there’s a grinning happy face, almost taunting you that it’s time to face the music. You show the test to Tommy, who places a palm on the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his lips. He murmurs that he’ll tell Joel, and that’s how not even twenty-four hours later, it really is time to bite the bullet. 
It's late, Joel having insisted that he needed to make sure Sarah was settled and asleep before he came over. You’re sitting at the foot of the bed, legs dangling aimlessly whilst you wait. You really had no idea how this was going to play out, so you’d dressed yourself in a simple cotton nightdress, silk robe tied around your middle for extra coverage. There was an empty whiskey tumbler on the nightstand. You’d had three, maybe four? Enough to take the edge off, but not too much that you weren’t aware of what was happening. 
You hear the doorbell chime and then Tommy’s heavy footsteps downstairs as he opens the door. You can hear his voice and Joel’s mingling together, but you can’t decipher what either are saying. You probably don’t want too either. What could two brothers’ possibly have to say to each other when one is getting ready to sleep with the others girlfriend? You listen to them talk for a bit before you can hear two sets of feet ascending the stairs. You stand from the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself for another layer of comfort when there’s a knock at the door. 
“Come in!” You call, bouncing nervously from foot to foot. 
The door swings open and Joel is stood there, dressed in his usual attire, dark wash jeans and a black t-shirt, work boots obviously discarded downstairs, Tommy knew you hated people tracking dirt into the house. He takes a moment to take the sight of you in and you think you must look ridiculous, silk robe making way to bare legs – it had seemed like such a good idea at the time, he could just push the material up, do what he needed to do and be gone, but now you wonder if it looks like you’re trying to seduce him. 
“Hey sweetheart,” Joel’s voice is soft and when you look into his eyes, they are too, and it does put you at some ease, “C’mere.” He’s motioning for you to step closer, opening his arms so he can pull you into a hug. 
You’ve hugged Joel hundreds of times before this, in much the same way. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders, the other squeezing into the middle of your back. It’s usually friendly, meaningless really, but when you take in the press of his broad frame, you can’t help but realise you’re going to know him far more intimately than you’d ever imagined by the end of the night. 
He releases you and you’re semi-aware that Tommy has slunk into the room behind his brother, he’s leaning against the wall as he watches Joel take hold of your hand, guiding you back to sit on the bed where you had been before. God, you think, he’s not wasting his time, he wants this to be over just as much as I do. You look up at his broad frame towering over you, if this was anyone else, you’d be intimidated, but he’s still got that soft look to his brown eyes. He shocks you next, cupping your jaw in his hand and running his calloused thumb over your bottom lip. 
He turns his head to Tommy, “You wanna tell me what she likes?” 
Oh. Oh. You’d expected something much more clinical than this. You’d never imagined he’d work to make sure you enjoyed it. You also turn your head in Tommy’s direction. He’s still leant against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other with his arms crossed. 
“She likes getting her pussy eaten, don’t you baby?” 
Joel is gently coaxing your face back to look at him, staring directly into your eyes, “That right, darlin’?” You look up at him as you nod, mouth open a little in shock, “Wanna make sure you enjoy this,” He’s saying, “Gonna take real good care of you.” 
Then, he’s dropping to his knees at the front of the bed, shifting so your legs are draped over his wide shoulders. Whilst Joel is focused on kissing trails from your knee, slowly up the expanse of your thigh, you look to Tommy, who has moved from the wall to sit in the small chair in the corner of the room that you would usually use to read in. He gives you a nod and a small smile, silently telling you to enjoy yourself. Your turn your attention back to Joel between your legs, who has slowly hitched up the cotton of your nightdress to pool at your hips, exposing your pussy to him. 
You can feel his hot breath skittering across your skin and there’s an anticipation building that you hadn’t expected. You’re moving your hips, almost subconsciously, to chase the relief you know his mouth was about to bring. Joel has his big palms on your hips then, holding you steady before he’s licking up the length of your pussy, tongue dipping ever so gently between your folds to find your clit. You let out a shaky breath that you hadn’t noticed you were even holding in, then Joel is moving again, tongue dipping into the entrance of your pussy, licking all the way up again before he’s laser focused on your clit. 
Your hands instinctively rake through his hair, gripping the strands between your fingers to keep him in place as he uses the tip of his tongue to run tight, wet circles to your bundle of nerves. You’re propping yourself up with a hand on the mattress behind you whilst the other keeps its place locking in Joel’s hair. Then, you’re actually grinding your pussy into his mouth, desperate for more but scared to ask for it. 
“It’s okay baby,” You hear Tommy speak from his place on the chair, “We want you to feel good, don’t be shy about askin’.” 
You look down between your thighs and see Joel looking up at you, mouth still latched to your aching pussy, “Joel,” You groan, “Fingers, please.” 
“So polite, darlin’.” He murmurs against your skin before he’s doing as you asked. 
He’s still showering your clit with attention, the sounds of his literal slurping doing nothing to stop the flush of arousal you’re feeling right now, as he pushes two of his thick fingers inside your slick cunt. You don’t know what you’d expected of Joel in this kind of scenario, perpetually single Joel, who never really seemed interested in anyone. You knew now, as he was curling those fingers inside of you, pressing into the spot that had you crying out and gripping his hair tighter than ever, that it wasn’t because of his abilities that he was single. 
“Fuck, holy shit Joel, I think….” 
“You gonna come for him baby?” You hear Tommy ask from the corner of the room. 
“I think…” You let out a sharp cry, “Don’t stop.” 
And he doesn’t. He keeps thrusting his fingers into your pussy, tongue still running those tight circles over your bud, but now he latches his lips around it and sucks, actually sucks at your clit. You’re lost. Your elbow buckles and you collapse on your back onto the bed, crying out a string of expletives as Joel works you through your high. Pleasure has burst across your skin, finding every single possible nerve ending and setting you on fire, your thighs are gripping his face as you ride out the last of the shuddering aftershocks on his fingers, pussy walls fluttering around them as you try and catch your breath. 
You can feel Joel recoiling from between your thighs. You can hear the sound of him undoing his belt and then it clattering to the floor. You use your weak arms to push yourself up the length of the bed, head settling in the pile of pillows at the top. You turn your face to Tommy and gasp, hunger igniting in your belly at what you see. Somewhere in the middle of Joel shattering your world between your thighs, Tommy has shucked his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his cock. He’s using his fist to work himself in slow strokes at the sight of you. 
You can feel Joel’s body clambering onto the mattress with you, settling between your thighs with his wide hips spreading your legs an obscene amount to accommodate him. He’s taking hold of your jaw in his hand, dragging your attention back to his face, “You’re fuckin’ me tonight pretty girl,” He growls, “Eyes on me.” 
It isn’t a torturous job by any means. Joel is weathered, his skin holding the early sign of wrinkles at his eyes, beard starting to grey, but you can’t deny that he’s handsome. Especially when he’s looking at you with eyes that are begging to devour you. He sits back on his knees, taking hold of the belt that is keeping your robe shut across your body to undo the loose knot you’d tied in it. He’s dragging you up by a wrist just far enough to shuck the material from your shoulders, laying you back down to play with the straps of your nightdress. 
“Can I undress you properly, darlin’?” He asks. 
You gulp. Finally noticing that he’s stripped to just his boxers, outline of his incredibly hard cock visible when you let your eyes drag down that far. 
“Go on baby,” Tommy encourages from across the room, “Let him see how beautiful you are.” 
Your eyes are back to holding court with Joel’s own and you nod. He’s pulling you up by the wrist again, sitting you up so he can drag that final bit of material off your body. You lie back down and watch as his eyes drag over every single inch of your skin. 
“Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.” 
He’s got those wide palms dragging down the curves of your sides, holding you in place to just watch you for a second before he’s hooking his thumbs into his underwear and dragging them down his thighs, freeing his cock. He’s fisting himself a few times before he hooks your knees over his arms and slides himself into your waiting cunt. 
It’s all you can do to let out a high-pitched moan at the intrusion, but fuck he feels good. You look up at his face, eyes closed and breathing deeply as he stills inside you once he’d buried in you to the hilt. 
“So fucking tight, darlin’,” He groans as he pulls himself almost all the way out before starting the long, torturous thrust back inside you, “So fuckin’ perfect, ain’t ya?” 
“Fuck Joel,” You throw your head back into the pillow, “Feel so good inside me.” 
He’s picking up the pace now, thrusting into you in earnest now. The angle he’s got you folded into means his cock in brushing that fucking spot inside you that is driving you crazy, raising goosebumps and setting you on fire, drawing high-pitched whines from your throat whenever he finds it. 
“Touch yourself baby,” You hear Tommy’s throaty request, you don’t dare look at him for fear of the sight of him finishing you off, “Joel’s gonna want you to come on his cock, so show him what a good girl you can be.” 
Joel is already circling your wrist with his hand, dragging your fingers to your pussy as he watches where his cock disappears inside you. Your own movements are sloppy but the slick that Joel’s mouth has dragged from you make the movement of circles on your own engorged and sensitive clit easy. It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit you, clenching your pussy around Joel’s hard cock which hasn’t let up for a single second since he started pounding into you. 
“She’s so fuckin’ pretty, Tommy,” Joel’s voice is low and husky above you, almost desperately so, “So fuckin’ pretty when she comes like that.” 
“Don’t I know it, brother.” You hear his strangled reply. 
Joel is all of a sudden flipping you on the bed, your legs straddling his hips, palms planted on his chest to steady yourself. 
“Take what you want darlin’,” He’s groaning, “Ride my cock and knock yourself up.” 
You do just that, grinding your hips backwards and forwards on his cock with your fingers digging halfmoon shapes into the meat of his chest as you lean forward, bouncing on his cock in earnest. 
His palms are gripping the globes of your ass, knees coming up to rest on your bare skin as he starts fucking up into you, meeting your thrusts halfway. The sounds of your skin slapping together is obscene but oh so delicious. 
“You like when my brother fucks you like that?” Tommy’s deep voice draws your attention to him, he’s still got his cock in his hand but he’s thrusting up into it and you can tell just by the look on his face that he’s close. 
You look him dead in the eyes, breathy moan falling from your lips when you say, “I fucking love it, Tommy.” 
It all happens at once. Tommy is moaning and you can see him start to spill across his hand. Then Joel is gripping your hips, stilling your movements as you feel him start to come inside you, filling you up with his cum, your name falling from his mouth with a tangle of expletives built in for good measure. 
“Fuckin’ take it, pretty girl.” Joel is growling from beneath you, pushing his cock impossibly deep inside you like he’s begging your pussy to soak it all up, to get it to take. 
The room is silent save for the sounds of the three of you trying to catch your breath. You collapse, somewhat unceremoniously off Joel’s body and onto the mattress, placing an arm over your eyes to try and calm yourself down. Why the fuck was that so hot? Is all you can think. You’re only semi-aware of him shifting and gathering his things, only semi-aware of Tommy cleaning his hand off on his jeans to re-dress himself. You’re almost asleep when you feel the press of a kiss to your cheek, opening your eyes to find it was in fact Joel who did it, thumb running soothing circles across the skin of your hip. 
“Thank you.” You say meekly, reaching up to cup his face in your palm. 
“My pleasure, darlin’,” He smiles down at you, “I hope it helps.” 
Then he’s gone, following Tommy out of the bedroom and back down the stairs. You can, once again hear their muted voices, but this time, instead of setting you on edge, it lulls you to sleep. By the time Tommy comes back, climbs into bed and spoons you from behind, you’re almost asleep. 
“Did so fuckin’ good for me baby,” He murmurs into your ear, “So fuckin’ proud of you.”
Through the haze of sleep taking over you, you manage to mumble out, “Hope it works.” 
He chuckles, his body shaking your own where he has you wrapped in his embrace, “Me too baby, me too.” 
Within minutes you’re asleep. So asleep that you don’t feel his hand resting above your womb, silently praying that sooner, rather than later, he’s going to start feeling you swell there. Silently thanking the good lord for giving him such an understanding brother and a girl willing to do anything for him. 
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twilightcitysky · 9 months
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Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 1)
I cannot figure out for the life of me how to make gifs so this will have to be a gif-less essay. If anyone more tech savvy than me wants to reblog with relevant media, please do!
I've seen a lot of people saying how Aziraphale's actions in the final ten minutes come out of left field and are OOC, and when I first watched the episode I felt the same, but now I think I couldn't have been more wrong. And I don't think Aziraphale is being controlled... I think the entire season showed us exactly what was going to happen.
On first watch, what struck me was the number of plot points that seemed disconnected. I couldn't figure out how Job related to the present, or the Victorian era, or the Nazi zombies (still at sea on the zombies part tbh). I didn't know where the Maggie/ Nina subplot was going, or why we were bothering with it. Then I put my "psych hat" on and it was like seeing one of those 3D pictures come into focus. It's a psychological networking rather than a plot-driven one, which is what Neil told us to expect.
Detailed analysis under the cut, with spoilers:
I went back through the season in my head and started asking myself: why is this element there? What does it contribute?
1. Start with scene one. Why include it? Does it matter for the climax that Az knew Crowley as an angel? YES. It's actually huge. Angel Crowley was joyful, he was bursting with delight at creation, he was idealistic. He wanted to be a part of everything rather than run away from it, and that's still how Aziraphale feels. He loves being a part of things. He's a joiner. He's a landlord. He dances at clubs and he makes human friends and he learns magic. Crowley the demon doesn't seem to want any of that, and I think that's hard for Az. He wants Crowley to be free of the cynicism he thinks prevents him from enjoying life now. At some level, I think he senses that Crowley is depressed (empathy's not his strong suit but I'm sure he's aware that Crowley's in a "what's the point of it all" kind of mood; see the eccles cakes scene). He wants to fix it. Aziraphale is a fixer. Metatron offers him a chance to do that.
Another thing is that Aziraphale knows Crowley ended up Falling just for asking questions that seemed innocent. That's not okay with him. He thinks that with the two of them in charge they can actually MAKE the changes that Crowley wanted to see way back at the beginning, starting with a suggestion box.
2. Okay, now Jim. Obviously Gabriel/ Jim is the central mystery, but why does he matter? First and foremost: he's there to show Aziraphale that angels can CHANGE. Gabriel terrorized and threatened Aziraphale. Az has been terrified of him. He ordered Aziraphale's execution. And now here he is, drinking hot chocolate, doing noble self-sacrificing things, with morals that suddenly align with Aziraphale's. What an absolute game-changer that must have been! He thought Heaven was unfixable, but here's Gabriel in his shop for weeks, slowly convincing him otherwise.
Then two other things happen. First, they find out that this all happened to Gabriel essentially because he fell in love. He was fired and his memories were stolen and the only reason he recovered was because Beelzebub happened to give him the one thing that could save him. That must have seemed like incredible luck. Now, how does Aziraphale feel about memories? He lives in a bookshop that is stuffed to bursting with the records of all of human history, essentially. His memories of his time with Crowley are incredibly precious. He sees, there at the end, that everything he is can be taken from him as a punishment for falling in love. Aziraphale doesn't have a magic fly container. He'd be forever robbed of Crowley, his life, himself. It's a very real threat in his mind when Metatron intervenes.
Which brings us to the second thing. Metatron saves Gabriel. Not only that, he prevents him from being punished for loving Beelzebub and lets them both go. What better way to win currency with Aziraphale? HE doesn't want to go off to Alpha Centauri, he never has, but suddenly he sees that Metatron might protect his relationship. And he's probably the only entity with the power to do so.
So we come to two conclusions: Aziraphale, when he goes off to talk with Metatron, is feeling like maybe it's not intrinsically bad to be an angel. He believed all the angels sucked, and only God was good... but now he sees that even Gabriel can change. He met Muriel, and he likes them. (He also had a huge crush on angel Crowley, which is neither here nor there but he loves Crowley in all his forms.) So if Crowley became an angel again, would that really be so bad? In his mind, it wouldn't change who Crowley is. It would just make them both safer and allow them to be together. (He's wrong! And Crowley doesn't see it that way! But this is a key miscommunication. Aziraphale doesn't really believe that becoming a demon changed Crowley. Back to the first scene, which Aziraphale references during the Job minisode. In his eyes, Crowley is the same person (just more cynical because of what's happened to him)-- so why would it matter if he's an angel again? I truly don't think he was trying to save Crowley, or saying that Crowley would be Better as an angel. To him, it doesn't matter what Crowley is. Which is reductive and harmful, but not the same as thinking Crowley needs rescuing from himself.)
Second conclusion: he sees that an angel and demon can be in love, but they have to run away to be together. Gabe and Beelz couldn't go home again. Earth is Aziraphale's home, but after the attack on the bookshop he learned that without Heaven's protection he can't really keep them safe there. Metatron says: "Come with me, do this thing, and you can have guaranteed safety AND be with the love of your life". Poor Aziraphale wants this with every fiber of his being. All he's ever wanted was for Crowley to be safe. He's never been able to offer it. Over the past four years, he thought they were safe, but he's just learned that he was wrong.
This is getting long. Continued in Part Two!
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exhaslo · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 6- Miguel x Reader (Shower Sex)
        The sound of running water always made you calm. Whether it was a thunderstorm outside or just your shower, you felt at peace at the sound. It helped you relax, think and breathe after a long day of work. Today had been particularly hard on you. Everything that could have went wrong, did, and all of the customers were so rude. You had felt like crying not even half way into your shift, but you sucked it up and kept smiling.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Miguel asked as you entered your shared home. You looked up at your fiancé, tears threatening to spill, "Come here,"
        Wrapping you in his warm embrace, Miguel let you sob. You vented about your day, to which he just listened. You and Miguel had been together for over a year. You knew about his secret and his family life and he knew yours. Sometimes it was hard to spend time with Miguel since he always had to save someone; to stop someone. Miguel was worried about you drifting from him and ended up proposing to you. Of course, it was an immediate yes due to your undying love for him.
        Let's not forget the sex. Once Miguel told you about how he became Spiderman, everything made sense. His heighten abilities, his strength, his goddamn stamina. Miguel was a beast in bed. Everything you did turned the man on. Some days he fucked you go good that you could not go into work the next day. Those you had to limit him to when you had off. Miguel was not shy to let you know his needs. He also made sure that you were taken care of too. His love for you was unmatched.
"Thanks, Miggy. I'm going to shower." You whispered. Miguel stroked your eyes, wiping any remaining tears,
"De acuerdo, bebé. Me uniré a ti en un momento. (Okay, baby. I'll join you in a bit.)" He kissed the top of your head.
        You smiled as he went to order some food. You loved it when he spoke Spanish. You didn't understand it really. Miguel was teaching you. Either way, you could hear the love in his tone. Miguel knew that the shower was your calming time. He always let you take as long as you needed to relax. Always making sure that you were okay.
        Stepping into the bathroom, you turned the water on, making sure it was burning hot. Stripping your clothes you, you hopped in, enjoying the steam. The sensation of scorching hot water touching your drained skin was pleasant. Every frustrated itch in your body disappeared with the steam. Once you had your fill of heat, you brought the water down to a warmer temperature. Once you did, you heard the door open,
"Miguel?" You hummed, poking your head out of the shower. Miguel pecked your lips,
"Mind if I help you relax?" He said lowly.
        Unable to say no to him, you shyly watched as Miguel stripped. Miguel always let you enjoy your showers in peace, that and with how different your schedules were, the two of you were rarely home at the same time for a shower. This was a first. You stared at his large shadow from behind the shower curtain. Would the two of you fit in the same shower? The thought never occurred to you. Miguel was far taller than you.
"Todavía te ves tenso, ¿por qué no te ayudo? (You still look tense, why don't I help you out?)" Miguel finally stepped into the shower. His large hands rubbed your shoulder, earning a soft mewl from you, "Mi bebé no merece estar estresado. ¿Por qué no te doy una razón para quedarte en casa? Me aseguraré de que no te muevas durante la próxima semana. (My baby doesn't deserve to be stressed. Why don't I give you a reason to stay home? I'll make sure you don't move for the next week.)" He whispered in your ear.
        All you understood was his cute nickname for you and something about stress. You leaned back into his chest as he released some knots against your shoulders. This felt heavenly. Miguel's hands moved from your shoulders to around your front. A shiver ran up your spine as he teased you. His large hands proceeding to grab your breasts. You bit your lower lip, trembling against him as he massaged your boobs and pitched your nipples.
"Stressed here too?" He whispered in your ear. You leaned against him more as the water made your body slippery for him to play with,
"It has been....a rough day," You squeezed out.
        Miguel rested his head against the crook of your neck, swirling his tongue around it. You whimpered softly, your legs starting to rub against each other. He sucked against your neck, pitching your nipples a bit rougher now. There were jolts sparking all over your body, waiting for his next move. 
        Miguel paid close attention to your body language. Leaving his marks on your neck, he moved over to the other side. He felt your body arch into his as his hand trailed down to your pussy. The running water making your skin feel so smooth. Making you feel so wet for him. Poking his fingers against your delicate bud, he hummed as you arched forward instead. Making circular motions, Miguel groaned lowly as your ass pressed against his cock.
        You had the prettiest moans. All Miguel was doing was rubbing your clit and you were already crying for him. Diving deeper, Miguel slid two fingers inside your already throbbing hole. He turned your head to capture your lips in a rough kiss while pumping his fingers inside you. You body kept arching forward, moaning into his mouth. Miguel pressed you against the wall, giving you something to lean on while he played with your body.
"Tan apretado alrededor de mis dedos. Necesito relajarte. Que te jodan muy bien. (So tight around my fingers. I need to loosen you up. Fuck you really good.)"
"Yes, Miggy! I need you," You cried out.
        All you really understood was him saying something about need and really good. You figured he was asking you if you needed him to make you feel good. You whimpered as Miguel removed his fingers. You were so close. Your body was burning and in desperate need for that release. Miguel pressed you down against the shower wall, sticking your hips closer to him.
"Mierda, te ves tan bien ahora mismo. Como si todo tu cuerpo estuviera mojado por mí. Quiere que te llene con mi polla. (Shit, you look so good right now. As if your whole body is wet for me. Wants me to fill you with my dick.)"
        Your hair started to fall down your face since it was getting wet. Trying to turn your head, you cried out as Miguel started to insert himself. Your hands trying to grip onto the shower wall as you felt his thick cock stretch you out. You remembered the first time you had sex with him. Never had you felt so good. Miguel still made it feel like the first time you had sex every time. He always knew the right spots. Always overstimulated you. Always made you feel so full. 
        Miguel cussed lowly as he slid his wet hair back. His hips pressed up against yours as he felt your pussy clench against his dick. No matter how many times he entered you, you always felt so good. Relishing in the moment, Miguel moved at the sound of your begs and cries. He held your hips in place, slapping his hips against yours. The wet sounds from the water making it sound sexier and dirtier than normal. Your soaked body glistering before him like a trophy.
"Mírate aferrándote a la querida vida. ¿Mi polla se siente tan bien dentro de ti? Tu bonito y pequeño coño me está chupando por más. (Look at you holding onto dear life. My dick feel that good inside you? Your pretty little pussy just sucking me for more.)" His voice getting lower before slapping your ass.
"Ah~ Miguel~" You moaned at.
        The sounds of your moans were getting louder and sloppier as you felt your high come back. You body burning as Miguel pounded your poor cunt. His rough and deep thrusts sending you over the edge each time. Your breathing hitched as he slapped your ass again, making you cum hard. You cried softly as you squeezed him. Miguel's thrusts did not slow down, causing you to shake. You could barely hold onto the slippery shower wall. 
        You whined as Miguel pressed you against the wall, spreading you legs a bit more. He rubbed your clit, kissing the back of your neck as he brutally slapped his dick into you. You felt him fasten, knowing that he was close. Crying out a moan as he forced another orgasm out of you, you trembled as you felt him cum inside.
"I love you, baby," Miguel whispered in your ear, "Are you still stressed?" You felt him smirk.
"Mhm," You responded without a thought.
        Miguel licked his lips as he turned you around, your back against the wall now. He wrapped your legs around his waist as he entered you once you. You moaned his name, your arms wrapped around his neck. Miguel held you up by your ass, kissing your chest as he tried to feel you deeper.
"Cum for me again, baby. Let your stress be fucked away." Miguel groaned lowly as you clenched him once more, "That's right, fuck...don't think about anything but me,"
"Migueeeeel~" You cried out, shaking in pleasure.
"The shower made your body more relaxed, more loose. Such an easy fuck. Baby, you should let me fuck you in the shower everyday. Does that sound nice?" Miguel started to babble, feeling himself about to cum again.
"Y-Yes! Yes, Miguel! E-Everyday!" You cried out.
        Miguel bit your lower lip as he released another heavy load inside you. Your face was so fucked out, just the way he liked it. He loved it when you were cock drunk on him. He knew he relieved both of your stress. Resting his head against your shoulder, Miguel let out a heavy sigh as he pulled out.
"I...don't want to work tomorrow," You whined, grinding your hips against Miguel's, "Please don't stop,"
        All you wanted was Miguel to keep fucking you. His eyes sparkled as he complied to your wishes and started to pound your pussy once more. Your brain was far gone. All you felt was the shower water increase Miguel's speed. The sweat washing away from your bodies due to the water, making the sex feel far more refreshing. Miguel's wet hair sticking to his face as he begged you to cum for him. Your body arched into his, moaning your heart out as he kept bullying you.
        You were going to have to change your personal shower time to match Miguel's schedule from now on.
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daegall · 7 months
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☆ drunk confessions.
➷ in which a drunk person's words is a sober person's thoughts.
pairing: (opla!)zoro x (implied fem!) reader
genre: fluff, slight angst, slight crack, mutual pining, friends to lovers!AU (ish..?)
warnings: lots and lots of alcohol, none after that but if you find one i can add lmk!! (+ lots and love of love for smiley zoro!!!!)
word count: 3.4k words (SHEESH)
a/n: requested by @acupnoodle !! tysm bae for the request, i hope you like it!!!! my inbox is now open for requests for opla (mostly zoro tbh LOL) if anyone would like to request ^^ (make sure its sfw as i am a minor!!!)
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This is sick. This is just so sick.
Okay, maybe Zoro could be exaggerating. But what else is supposed to think, when you, the you who he has feelings for, is in the kitchen with Sanji, the annoying cook who he bickers with at least 5 times a day?
And especially since the day Sanji got him to blurt out about his feelings for you while he was drunk?
Zoro never thought he'd say it, but maybe he should lay low with the booze.
The swordsman can only grumble and huff as Luffy goes on and on about something—he hears something about Shanks. But all Zoro can do, is replay the memory of you sitting on the counter, right next to Sanji, who was peeling a few apples, and with a small frown on your face at that.
First, he thought maybe the cook had hurt you in any way. Then he realized it couldn't be, you'd be marching away from him. Then he assumed it could be you, with some personal trouble. But then you would always, without a fail, go to Zoro for help in that case.
Then, Zoro came to his final conclusion.
He had hurt you in some way.
But how could he? He'd never even consider the thought—he'd kill anyone who'd hurt you, because he cares—
No.
There's no way.
Sanji didn't tell you about his feelings... right?
Indeed he didn't. But Zoro doesn't know that.
What he also doesn't know, is the fact that you went to Sanji to talk about your best friend himself.
"He's been avoiding me," You mumble out weakly, picking at a few crumbs left on the counter. Gross, but hey, it's a pirate ship. There could be much worse things than a few specks of food. "I don't remember if I did anything wrong,"
Sanji knows you didn't. In fact, it was all his fault that Zoro was avoiding you. At the moment, having the usually stoic, cold swordsman admit his feelings for you with a dopey smile, the most loving tone as he describes every little thing about you, it seemed like the best thing on Earth. The man who everyone thought would never break, broke, all because of you.
But now, Sanji thinks it's stupid. He thinks it's stupid that Zoro's avoiding you because one person knew about his feelings. How cowardly could he be? But then again, he has absolutely no experience in relationships.
Sanji offers you an apple slice, his voice comforting and soft. "I don't think it's you," He smiles when you take the apple, taking a bite. "you could never wrong him."
"Then what is it?" Your voice is laced with such helplessness, a tone of worry and guilt buried underneath. It breaks Sanji's heart to see you like this. You play with the bracelet on your wrist, something Zoro had bought you when you were at a small town. You hadn't taken it off since, and it's been 3 months.
3 months marks your feelings for him as well.
"Why don't you ask him?"
At this question, your head whips to Sanji's direction, shaking instantly. "No! Hell no, it'd make him hate me even more!"
"Y/N..." Sanji's hands are suddenly on your shoulders, his eyes glistening with genuine care. It shocks you how serious he is about the whole situation. "he doesn't hate you. You might be the only one he genuinely feels safe with, you hear me?"
It's silent for a moment, as you bask in his words, the words in which hit you unexpectedly deeply. Yes, there have been times you've patched him up after a particularly harsh fight, yes, you both have shed tears together, and yes, he lets you touch his swords and lets you use—holy shit, Roronoa Zoro does care about you!
You decide to ask him, just as Sanji had suggested you do.
Zoro, on the other hand, has a different plan.
Despite the wallowing pit in his stomach, occupied by the green monster labeled as jealousy, Zoro knows you wouldn't go for Sanji. He's like an older brother to you.
But alas, he cannot control his emotions. And so, he's come up with possibly the worst plan ever.
Roronoa Zoro is going to flirt with you. The same way Sanji flirts with Nami.
It's stupid, he knows it's stupid, but Zoro is desperate. He's never felt this way towards anyone, ever, and his pride is way too big for him to ask advice from anyone on the crew.
"Zoro!"
Said man's heartrate doubles the moment he realizes it's your voice, your sweet, sweet voice calling out to him. Oh, how special he feels now, to have you by his side, to have you care for him and make him smile, how has he not realized how blessed he was just in your presence?
Okay, maybe Zoro was exaggerating.
He glances over his shoulder, attempting to act cool with a neutral face, as he murmurs. "What is it?"
As cold as ever, his gaze pierces yours. But... there's something different in it. It's colder.
Of course, this wasn't Zoro's intentions, clearly just trying to act cool and not confess his feelings for you right then and there, but the ice in his tone, his gaze, his aura, has your heart sinking.
Maybe he really did hate you now.
"Do you mind if we could talk?"
God, just the thought of having a chat with you has Zoro's heart soaring, his whole mind and being flooding with tenderness knowing that you'd always talk to him.
"What's up?" He sighs, fully turning around to you. His body language is the usual, calm and collected, the usual hand on his swords. Zoro is thankful you can't get a look inside, you'd be seeing a whole zoo and his running thoughts about how pretty you look today.
You step closer to Zoro.
"Did... did I do something wrong?"
This time, Zoro's heart twists in confusion.
Wrong? You? How could you ever think that?
"Because if I have, don't hesitate to tell me—"
"—your face."
What?
Holy shit, Zoro thinks you're ugly?
"...Is this your way of telling someone they're ugly?"
To be frank, you're kind of glad it's not about anything that you did, that would break you.
However, him directly telling you you're ugly? You never really cared if anyone called you ugly, but Roronoa Zoro? The only man you'd every trust? Your own crush?
Your heart twists in pain.
"No! No, that's not what I meant,"
Zoro's heartstrings tug at the sight of your pained face, the frown curling on your lips, he should never open his mouth ever again.
"I-I just meant that... you..."
He feels his cheeks warm up. Is he blushing?!
"you look really pretty today,"
Those were the very last words you would have expected coming out of Zoro's mouth.
A silence envelops the air. It's... awkward, to say the least, but a little endearing, with the both of you shyly looking away.
Zoro thinks you're pretty.
Absolutely stunning with your pursed lips trying to contain a smile, the glint in your eyes known as relief, and a little hint of mischief.
"Thanks," You mumble quietly, shrugging, though you're a far cry from casual.
Zoro mirrors you, leaning his hip onto the ship railing. "Don't mention it."
And you don't. Not for the next few hours, at least.
To say Zoro's plan of flirting with you failed, was quite the understatement. Sure, he finally got to say what he's been holding in for months, but he was expecting Sanji level flattery, the teasing smiles and confidence, not whatever the two of you went through.
Zoro feels like an idiot.
You, on the other hand, quite enjoyed it. it was genuine, and unlike Sanji's flirting, it's left you thinking about the moment for hours after it's passed. It seemed so genuine, carefully thought out (though it wasn't) and soft, something you didn't know Zoro could be.
You like Zoro's flirting much more than Sanji's. Though, that may be due to the fact that you have feelings for the swordsman.
The sun sets, leaving the pirate ship quiet (for once) and calm, just like the ocean, with it's soft waves and tranquil energy.
What isn't tranquil tonight, is you.
Instead of going to sleep, you've decided to have a drink. Yes, you may have stolen from Zoro's hidden stash in which he only showed you. Yes, you may have had more than one drink.
3, to be precise.
Why? Well, how are you supposed to go on the night? Simply thinking over and over about Zoro's words? His words that have left a permanent place in your heart? Your mind and soul?
How are you supposed to spend the night thinking about a man who you were sure hated you, who called you pretty and set your heart on fire, without a drink?
Besides, what's the worst that could happen?
Maybe the fact that Zoro wants a drink tonight as well.
Okay, yeah, he did say he was gonna lay low with the booze. But bad habits die hard. He's bound to drink a little here and there.
The moment he gets to the kitchen, Zoro is shocked at the sight of you, sitting on the counter, with a bottle of his beer in your hands. Your eyes are droopy, almost sleepy, a stupid lopsided smile spreading on your lips. The bottle has Zoro's name on it, written on the tape and pasted lousily over the brand name, and seeing you eye the writing and mumble his name has Zoro's heart pounding, filling with such unexpected fondness for you, ready to burst as such a volcano would.
"That's my booze,"
Your eyes blink tiredly, with no energy, as they trail to Zoro, and when you spot him, he can't believe the way your frown completely transforms into a bright grin.
"Zoro! Hey! Yeaahh, it has your name on it,"
He's shocked when you extend your hand with the bottle in it, shaking it side to side lightly. "Wanna sip?"
Your 'p' pops, and Zoro can't help but find it utterly endearing.
"Don't mind if I do," He murmurs with a small smile, wrapping his fingers around the bottle. He doesn't miss the way you maneuver your fingers to brush with his, catching your smile once they've made contact. His fingers are warm, and slightly rough.
Life of a swordsman, you suppose.
When he takes a sip of the bottle, you scooch over on the counter, tapping the space beside you. "Come join me!" Under the low light of the moon shining through the window, you look unexpectedly elegant, despite your tipsiness, the rays settling on your cheek just right.
Zoro complies, but simply leans against the counter. He takes another swig. "Any reason as to why you're here alone? Drinking my booze?"
"Been thinking," you say simply, reaching over to fiddle with a bandage on Zoro's forearm. The action is an abrupt source of serotonin to him.
His voice is laced with care and curiosity, as he asks you, "Thinking about what?"
"You,"
Oh how you never fail to get him shy. His eyes grow wide, but with the little alcohol in his system, he supposes it could work as liquid luck for tonight.
"Yeah? What about me?"
You chuckle, drunkenly, your eyes flitting from the bandage on his arm to his own eyes, no hints of hesitation or doubt. "How pretty you are,"
"You think I'm pretty?"
"Mhm," You nod. A hand is placed on your cheek, as you lean on it and continue to gaze at Zoro, almost dreamily. "your smile is pretty,"
At the mention of his smile, it appears almost instantly, and causes you to swoon even more, if it were possible. "You like my smile?"
You sigh, your own grin joining his. "Always,"
You decide to elaborate even more, deciding your sober self will have to deal with the embarrassment of rejection later.
"And you've got these freckles on your cheeks and nose, from all the hours in the sun, I always tell you to use sunscreen,"
It's true, you do.
Zoro only chuckles lightly, growing fonder and fonder of you every time you speak.
"and I love how ambitious you are to become the worlds greatest swordsman. You're always the best. To me, at least."
God, Zoro might kiss you right then and there.
"And you're so caring for everyone on the crew, don't deny it, I always see the way you do! Helping Usopp clean the ship and tie knots, listening to Luffy's nonsense rambling and storing all the maps for Nami, even for Sanji! Always buying the right ingredients for him," You breathe out a soft laugh. "and you care about me too. I think. I mean, you're always there when I have a problem personally or not, sometimes I think maybe... we could have some connection, you know? And other days... it seems like you despise me."
What?
How could you ever think he could despise you? Sure, there are some instances where you disagree with each other, but he does not hate you. He could never even think about it.
Before Zoro could comment on it, you carry on, voice growing louder and louder.
"Did I mention I love your smile?"
Zoro can't help but chuckle, reaching over to brush a few strands of your hair from your eyes. Wow, that took him more confidence than he thought.
"Yes, you have, Y/N."
"Oh... then let me mention it more," A sheepish smile grazes your lips, as you lean in close to observe his smile once you realize he is.
"And your lips. They're pretty too,"
Your eyes squint as you lean in closer, so close that your noses brush against one another. Zoro doesn't find the will in him to lean in, neither to pull back either. He simply sits there, his heart growing softer and softer when you purse your lips and tilt your head, shaking it.
"they look lonely," you state. "wanna meet mine?"
Oh, you're cute.
With the confident, almost cocky smile on your lips, eyes growing wider and wider as Zoro starts laughing.
Through your drunken eyes, seeing him smile is one thing. One thing enough to set you rambling and rambling about how much you enjoy it. Hearing him laugh? You could talk about it for hours, but you'd have too many things to say at once, you'd be left speechless. And that's exactly what happens at the moment, as you're left gaping at the sweet melody of his laughs, simply keeping your loving gaze on him.
"I'm not kidding, Zoro." You mumble. "I love you, I do."
For months, Roronoa Zoro has been so unsure about himself around you. Is he enough? Will he ever be enough? But now, hearing you state that you love him, he's sure. He loves you too, more than he could ever comprehend, and he won't doubt himself anymore.
He leans in, bumping your foreheads together clumsily. Though it hurts for a moment, it's fond, caring, as he smiles softly at your drunk state.
You could just be drunk right now.
None of this could be true.
Zoro doesn't care. If it's true or not, there has to be a reason you're telling him this. He'll ask you when you're sober.
Speaking of, "I won't kiss you," He says.
Your heart plummets to the ground, you can feel it deep in your chest, crashing through the base of the ship and sinking to the bottom of the sea, buried under such hurt hearing his words.
It lifts a moment later, however, as he places his lips on your cheek lovingly, a kiss to your forehead following.
"not when you're drunk. Don't wanna take advantage of you,"
"But you're not—"
"—I know, but it won't feel the same,"
Really, all Zoro wants to do, is place just one kiss on your lips, your lips that pout as you look up at him, hold you so closely to him, finally accept his feelings and make a move.
But, he'll wait for the morning. He'd wait forever just for you.
And as he leaves, warning you to stop drinking his booze, you're left... with a half heart. Half full with love, knowing Zoro could very much feel the same way for you, half empty, sad to have made so much effort (getting drunk should not be the way to confess to your crush) just for him to leave you hanging.
That's on you, you suppose.
He makes a very good point about the whole 'taking advantage' thing.
You guess you'll be too much of a coward when you wake up sober, too scared to fully confess, too scared to even look at him.
Zoro could not disagree more. He swears, the moment the sun has risen and you're awake, he's going to make you his. All his to hold, all his to take care of and protect, all his to love.
And as the day starts, both your minds are instantly flooded with thoughts of the other. The moment you see him, yawning as he listens to Luffy's rambling, your heart starts racing.
You don't remember that much from last night.
All you remember is the feeling of Zoro's warm lips on your skin, his caring gaze, and the ridiculous amount of alcohol you had drank. Sure, it was a far cry from how much Zoro would usually drink, but it's still a big amount to you.
Zoro has last night's events imprinted in his mind, every lingering glance he sends your way, every shy smile the two of you share, the way you scurry away quickly with an embarrassed scrunch of your nose, it takes him back to the night.
And finally, some alone time.
You find Zoro in the kitchen, checking on his booze stash, the one you had invaded the night before.
"Sorry about that, by the way," You call out, announcing your presence.
Zoro's heart soars just at the sound of your voice, small, almost guilty, and when he turns around, seeing you sit on the counter, just as you had last night, he can't stop the smile from tugging his lips upward. "It's no problem," He shrugs. "you'd never bother me,"
Roronoa Zoro, the lone wolf, the harsh swordsman saying that to you says a lot.
He approaches your figure slowly, growing more and more confident once he's realized that's exactly what you want. It's exactly what he wants too.
Finally, he's stopped right in front of you, your knees brushing slightly against his shirt. You look down at your hands placed on your laps, too shy to say anything, nor even look up at him.
"Hey," A sudden touch at your chin shocks you, and you eventually melt against his hold as he tilts your head up to meet his eyes. Like a magnet, you grow closer collectively, up until Zoro has both his hands sitting by your hips, your noses once again brushing.
This scene seems familiar.
You conclude it's what had been done last night, when he had kissed along the skin of your cheeks.
"I'm not drunk anymore," You whisper out.
Zoro chuckles, causing your entire being to wave with warmth of safety and comfort. "Yeah, I can see that."
"So you gonna give me that kiss or—"
Zoro's lips feel much warmer than you expected. They feel complete, pressed against your softly, almost hesitantly. The moment your fingers graze against his jaw, he relaxes, leaning in deeper to not only kiss your lips, but your entire soul, with love and solace, finally coming to terms with his feelings.
God, does Roronoa Zoro love you so much. He loves the way your hands creep up to mess up his (already disheveled) hair, the sigh you let out against his lips, the way you chase his lips once he's pulled away.
"What exactly did I say last night?" You mumble against his lips once he's pulled away, grabbing at his hand to play lightly with his fingers.
"Well, you mentioned how much you loved my smile," Zoro chuckles. There he goes once again, with his pretty smile and laugh, leaving you speechless and starstruck. "like, a lot."
"Did I mention that I love you?"
Zoro feels a warmth bubble from his stomach, feeling it envelop his chest, his arms and fingers when you finally intertwine your hands in a lock, his cheeks as they redden, and his lips as he finally gives you one last flash of the smile you claim to adore so much.
It's love.
"Yeah," He leans in to press your foreheads together. "I think I love you more,"
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