#today a kid got a door slammed on their finger and screamed for like half an hour until their parents came | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plasticferal · 3 years

Text

chasing highs | rafe cameron.

summary: you’re his lover, and he’s your brother’s best friend. both the secrecy and his addiction cause tension in your hidden relationship.

authors note: 2.4k words. explicit language, mentions substance abuse, angst and weaponry.

soundtrack: sober, childish gambino.

you struggle to support the grocery bags that are filled to the brim, and tearing at the seams. you use your elbow to pry the door open with a struggle and quickly dump the brown bags on the counter. you groan at the sight, the house is in disarray. empty glasses, crushed cans and powder residue scatter across the wooden table. the smell of dry grass that’s been tracked along the floors and a contrasting clean linen fills the small space.

“at least he did the washing,” you run the back of your hand across your forehead, looking around with a fatigued sigh. you begin unpacking everything into cupboards. your arrangement is disturbed by a banging at the door that rattles the wall, it seems desperate. you turn around to pull the handle, revealing rafe. you roll your eyes, murmuring an acknowledgement before leaving the door open for him to let himself in. “country club,”

he steps inside, looking around and acting neurotic. “only barry calls me that,” he counters. “well barry’s not here, so,” you fade off the last part of your sentence, not entirely being interested in conversation. you strain your toes to place a cereal box on the top shelf. rafe silently stands behind you, his chest pressed to your shoulder as he takes it from your hand to put it away, being able to reach with ease. you feel his warm hand crawl around the side of your hip. you grip the edge of the counter that’s underneath you, feeling his breath trickle down your neck.

“i missed you, you know?” he spoke softly. he smelt like faded cologne and dirt, an overall musky scent. it was oddly comforting.

you shrug him off and turn back to pull vegetables from the bags, excusing his body to reach the fridge. he follows your every action.

“did i do something?” he looks confused by your dismissive nature, and sudden sharp tone.

“wanna tell me what you’re here for?” you place the packaged food in the cold drawers of the fridge, slamming them closed a little more dramatically than intended. you know his answer, you just need to reassure yourself.

“i just, i just need a little bit-” he speaks apprehensively. you quickly turn around to look at him, your eyes are heavy and filled with dejection. you lick your lips and bob your head with thought, letting out a bitter chuckle.

“he’s all out,” you look up at him, “house is empty.” and once again, you go back to the groceries. rafe stands still for a moment, rubbing his knuckles. you can hear the friction of his skin.

“i know he’s got something in here, y/n,” he looks around, and you can hear the shake in his vowels. his heavy steps take over the creaking floor, a cabinet slamming, making you jump slightly.

“did you not hear me, or are you not listening? there’s nothing in here,” you follow the noise to catch the sight of rafe rummaging through any door that opens. you to reach his shoulder to pull him away from a brown t.v unit, knowing he won’t give up until he’s been physically stopped. the moment you reach forward he pushes your hand away, grunting and bypassing you.

“are you fucking serious?” shock seeping through. he freezes, hands digging through his hair as he bounces back and forth between his feet. he releases air from his nose in frustration, taking a step closer to you.

“i’m sorry, i, i just need you to help me out,” he lends a hand forward in hopes of taking you into his arms, but you step back.

“help you feed the drug addiction that my brother started?”

“god, not right now,” he shakes his head, shutting his eyes tight and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“help you come to realisation that you have a problem?” you continue, knowing that it’s only getting to under his skin more.

“i don’t have a fucking problem!” he screams. not a yell. a scream with chest, an angry reaction. a reaction you could handle from your brother, arguments often occurring in the house. but not from rafe. not from the man you go out of your way to protect and love.

“get out.” your voice is stern and your eyes are stinging. his tension quickly diminishes.

“i didn’t mean- i didn’t mean to yell, alright?” he bites his words back, fighting that belligerent tone that previously lashed out.

“i’m not repeating myself,” you shake your head, looking to the door.

“sweetheart, i’m sorry. i’m sorry, okay? i’m just on edge,” he rambles on his justification but it only seems to dig himself a deeper hole.

“yeah, that’s the only reason you’re here,” you mumble to yourself, looking at your hands while you squeeze the tips of your fingers. a distraction.

“what’s wrong with you today? talk to me,” he progresses a step closer, careful not to approach too fast, knowing you’d turn away.

“rafe, i know you have a lot going on but god, i don’t want you to pretend to want me if you care more about chasing a high,” you finally spill how you feel, wanting to take it all back the second you do, not because you didn’t mean it, because you truly didn’t want the confrontation. you look up to see his face drop, mouth open a jar and eye’s grave.

“are you kidding me? you’re the only fucking person on this earth i care about,” he speaks with a bounce of a laugh, more out of shock and disbelief that he has to say it aloud.

“i know i have a problem, alright?” he hold his palms together and digs his fingers into his chest, the fixed intensity on his face. he licks his lips, rotating back and forth between his heels before pausing to take a deep breath. he tests the waters in stepping closer to you, and this time you let him. you allow him into your space, admittedly craving his touch. his hand cups around your upper arm, sliding down your skin before his index finger slips around the belt loop of your jeans. he pulls your lower half forward until you’re touching bodies, and his forehead rests against the crown of your head.

“i’m gonna try harder, i promise,” his voice is soft, and assertive. it’s difficult to feel indifferently about him. you want a reason to be mad, a reason to get him out of the house before you run into more trouble, but you know he’s being genuine. in that moment, there were no doubts or fears.

“okay,” your voice faint, letting yourself fully sink into his touch. you reach up to drape your hands over his shoulders, fingers playing with the dirty blond hair that falls messily past his ears.

“i love you, you know that right?” he speaks, mouth now hovering over your lips. you laugh sweetly, pecking the side of his face. “yeah, i do actually,” your arrogant response prompts a poke from him into your side and you push his bicep with a giggle.

“shit, i think i fell in love with you the first day we met,” he pulls your body back to him, swaying you both back and forth. he moves when the gears in his head are ticking, can never keep still. so you allow your body to dance around with him while he ponders.

“you’re lying” you roll your eyes, assuming he was over compensating from the heat you put on him a few minutes prior. “no, i’m not,” he breathes out a smile.

“do you remember that day?” you dip your eyebrow at him.

“of course i do,”

six months earlier.

you slip into that grey shirt that hangs barely past your thighs, causing the shorts underneath to disappear. the heat within the metal surrounded home was intensified by the midday sun, making you irritated and desperate for a cold drink. you grab a can of soda from a cooler, not being your preferred means of refreshment, but better than warm tap water.

as you wipe the corner of your mouth slightly, you simmer in the feeling of the icy feeling in your palm. your moment of serenity is quickly disturbed by the front door being pushed open harshly, making you freeze in your tracks. your first thought was that it would be barry, but upon realising it was a complete stranger, your next thought was to grab that gun barry keeps under the couch cushion.

“barry, i need-” the tall mystery man speaks with heavy breaths, not being aware of your presence.

“who the hell are you?” he sounds mad to be confused, and you’re almost amused by it. given you weren’t afraid of strangers coming and going from the place, it not being an unusual occurrence, typically they have courtesy to knock.

“who are you?” you respond, standing your ground comfortably. the tall male washes his gazes over your body slowly, but snaps out of it swiftly.

“ah, rafe, rafe cameron,” he speaks quick, almost as if he has something more important to say other than his name. you let it sink in for a while, being more than thrilled to waste the home invaders time as you sip your drink. the name sounded familiar, and judging from his attire, you put the pieces together.

“oh! country club, yeah i’ve heard a lot about you,” you chuckle to yourself, knowing barry and him have a love-hate relationship.

“what have you heard?” he probes, face now taut.

“that you have money. no wonder you hang around here so often,” you return that judgemental glance he pulled on you, noting the polo shirt, then back up to his face. his hair fell over it, and his features appeared almost too perfect. it was unnerving. “and yet i’ve never seen you here?” rafe responds, still lost at the interaction he’s enduring.

“you’re way better looking than i thought you’d be,” you try to mutter, but he’s engrossed in your exchange.

“pardon?” he nods his head forward. you smile densely, placing your drink down on the coffee table behind you then waving your hand toward the couch.

“i said take a seat, make yourself comfortable,” completely dismissing his question.

you’re seated on the sinking lounge, while he opts for the single armchair beside it. you’re able to see each other this way. he taps is fingers impatiently against the wooden armrests.

“are you like his girlfriend or something?” he strings together with scepticism. you bite your cheek with a chuckle.

“sister,” you assure. he nods slowly, giving a look that says, ‘my bad’ for getting that wrong.

“good to know,” the words were under his breath but you heard. and you’re sure he wanted you to.

“so did barry say he left something for me, or?” rafe rubs his thighs, shifting in his seat. it slipped your mind, his initial agenda for being there, but you quickly come back to earth. you huff, standing up silently to retrieve the bag that barry did in fact inform you was going to get picked up that day. you walk into the bedroom that has a curtain as a replacement for a door, reluctantly taking it into your hands.

re-entering the room, you throw it onto the table, falling back into your seat. rafe leaps toward it like it was his lifeline. you rolled your eyes, pulling your knees up to your body, hugging them.

“that shit’s gonna ruin your life,” you voice.

“yeah well,” he sniffs, tucking the white packet into his pocket.

“you can thank your brother when that happens,” he gives a hopeless response, with attitude. he stands from his seat, and you follow, making your way back over to the front door.

you wanted to respond, but you’d be getting yourself involved in a sensitive topic. rafe halts between the door frame, his tall figure blocking most of the natural sunlight. you stand in front of him, one hand on the handle prepared to close it behind him, and this time lock it. you’re gazing up at him, wondering why he’s blankly staring at you.

“what?” you question, toying with the handle, apprehensive of what he’ll respond with.

“you’re nothing like him, are you?” his voice is gentle, almost like he’s only speaking loud enough for himself to hear it. your eyes are locked and it’s becoming an overwhelming feeling. you break eye contact, looking past him. there’s a sense of sadness that takes over. having always been a juxtaposition to your sibling, but often being associated, mean’t that someone seeing past the stereotype was a pleasant change. you shake your head, indicating a clear no. he nods, understanding. the silence spoke volumes.

“good. you’re too pretty for that shit,” and with that, his back was turned and he was slipping a black helmet on, momentarily returning to a stranger.

present day.

"and i still believe that,” he brushes a loose strand of hair from your eye. “so pretty,”

you’re fascinated by him. by the way you can tell that stash he was losing himself over has left his thoughts, and for a moment you remember the connection you two have. how powerful it was when he was with you, entrenched in your company.

“i know you’re trying, rafe,” you whisper, and his grip tightens. how much you believed your own words was uncertain, but the hope seemed stronger than any doubt.

“you’re the only high i wanna chase,” he uses his thumb to lift your face to him before he trails his touch along your bottom lip, gently prying your mouth open. he leans down and attaches your lips, yourself pushing toward him to deepen the kiss. you feel him smile against your mouth before you cup his jaw lightly to seperate.

“if barry comes home and you’re all over me, he’s gonna put a bullet in your head,” you look into his eyes. they’re glistening and bright, a drastic difference to how dark they were when he first arrived.

“i’ll take my chances,” before wrapping his warm hand around the curve of your neck, pulling you into another kiss, lasting for what felt an eternity.

the body heat between you intensifies. rafe rolling his hips against you every now and then, urging a response from you, and though you’re aware of the risk of that front door flying open, you dig your nails into his shoulder blades. earning a desperate groan from rafe, you’re utterly intoxicated by his touch, becoming lost and unbothered by any risk or fear.

for a brief moment you understand what he feels when that substance runs through his veins and why he chases it. in your own way, you understand that high.

#who:#rafe cameron #drew starkey #tags:#obx #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #barry outer banks

403 notes · View notes

g0ldengubler · 3 years

Text

lunchtime ~ spencer reid

A/N: THIS IS VERY UNEDITED VERY HORRIBLE WRITING! i just wanted to get this out. this is a kink i have but never really talked about it. but i hope u still enjoy! it’s very weird so if you don’t want to read it you don’t have to :)

Category: smut (NSFW18+)

CW: rough sex, riding, doggystyle, special guests listening in

Summary: spencer reid works a lot. he’s an fbi agent, he can’t help but be a workaholic! but when you guys finally get time to yourselves, what happens when it’s risky interrupted?

Word Count: 2078

✨masterlist✨

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

having a boyfriend who works in the FBI isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. Because of his job, Dr.Spencer Reid was always either gone on a case or working on cases at home. he could be doing it in the office, but spencer was a sweet guy and made a middle ground to see his girlfriend more. he was just as passionate about her as he was with his job, calling her every night when he was away, making sure to treat her when he got back or when he was done for the day. he made sure she knew she was important to him, which wasn’t something she ever felt from a guy who was a workaholic.

today was just like every other day. spencer got to do case files at home as there was no case as of then. Y/n tried her best to take care of him while working, as a return of the favor. She made him his favorite waffles that morning and even made him a fresh cup of coffee just the way he likes it-a cup of sugar with coffee to mix. He kissed her on the forehead, convinced that he didn’t deserve her. once he was done he went straight to work. In a way, y/n pretty much worked with him as his personal Penelope Garcia, as he was an old man when it came to computers.

it was lunchtime at this point. y/n walked into his office and stood in the door frame, watching his fingers move down the page in his book as he read. his fingers made her melt, and he knew that. clouds began to form in her head as thoughts of what he could do with this fingers took hold of her. she didn’t even notice he was wanting her attention as he snapped her out of her daydreams with a snap of his fingers.

“Bubs, are you ok?” spencer asked. he was still at his desk, his finger placed at the spot he was at. you looked back at him from his finger, noticing what he was wearing and it wasn’t helping your case at all. while he was wearing his favorite maroon cardigan that he thrifted (still lux though as it was ralph lauren), he also wore a pair of grey sweatpants. clever of him for the moments he had to video chat with people.

you were quickly out of your thoughts yet again as you felt your body move without you knowing before. you walked towards him as he turned his chair to your side. you noticed he was half hard in his pants, as the imprint of himself showed through. you sat on his lap and ran your fingers through your hair, peppering kisses below his ear. he chuckled, thinking you were being cute, but you were just getting started.

“it’s lunchtime bubs.” you whispered as you softly grind against him.

spencer put his hands on your his after guiding your body to straddle him. he guides them as his lips touch yours. “good,” he said in between kisses, gently rubbing circles over your shorts in the place you wanted him most, “i’m starving.”

not only was spencer the sweetest, softest man you’ve ever met, but he was also the sexiest and dirtiest. he was rough like a wild bear but soft as a teddy bear-taking such good care of you after he ruined you to filth. no one would ever believe the things you two have done together in the past year. no one would especially believe what happened today.

as spencer’s about to slide his hand down your shorts, his phone rang. he groan softly under his breath as his right hand left your side to grab his phone. you were a little annoyed at first, but once he put the phone to his ear, an idea popped into your head.

“hey hotch...” he said. you slowly leaned down and went back to the spot below his ear, sucking and nibbling it softly.

this wasn’t something new to the both of you. it was a fun little game you’d play if either of phones rang while you were in the middle of it, seeing how long they could last at acting normal. by now, spencer had got the hang of it and made it easy for him when it was any of his coworkers. today, however, he was almost struggling.

you heard other voices on the phone as well. you could tell by how low they all sounded that it was 3 of the men on his team.

“yeah, i was um...about to have lunch.”

you decided to try and break him a little, sucking a little bit harder.

“can i call y-“ a soft moan left his lips, cutting him off his sentence. his eyes bulged out of his head as his mouth fell open. you quickly coughed in a lower tone to help him out, trying not to laugh.

“yeah, luke i’m fine,” he said, “just stubbed my toe....shut up morgan!”

you giggled softly to yourself, but not softly enough. you heard laughing from his phone and realized you were busted.

“hi boys!” you said, jokingly sounding seductive.

spencer gave you a look that said ‘are you kidding me?’ which made you giggle even more. you hear morgan on the other end say, “aww, did we interrupt your lunch?”

“yeah, you did! we were just about to get started.”

spencer placed the phone back to his ear, taking a deep breath before speaking. “look seriously can we-“

he paused, listening to whoever was talking. slowly, spencer removed the phone from his ear and covered it with his shoulder. he looked unsure of himself, as if he was trying to gather the courage to speak.

“bubs,” he said weakly, “do you um...uh..d-do you want to...have the phone on speaker?”

you thought for a moment. you were always secretly into things like this, but never told spencer because you thought he would find it weird. but seeing him look kind of into it didn’t help the puddle forming in your shorts.

“you don’t have to if you don’t want to. whatever your comfortable with!”

you thought for one more moment before taking his phone out of his hands and putting it on speaker for him, setting it down on his desk. he looks at you confused.

“let’s put on a show for your coworkers, daddy.”

“ooooo coming in with the big guns already!” said Luke.

“y/n does not play.” said Hotch.

Spencer was frozen in his tracks. he couldn’t believe the words coming out of their mouths, let alone what was going on.

“well come on then daddy, give us a show! my popcorn is getting cold.” teased morgan.

spencer rolled his eyes at morgan before his lips attacked yours. you continued your grinding on him, this time he was grinding back. you moaned through the kiss as his hands went back in your shorts, rubbing circles on your clit.

“oh wow, spencer got a girl to moan like that!” said Morgan.

“is he making you feel good, hun?” asked hotch.

“fuck yesssss!” you let out a long moan as spencer moved faster with his motions. he let out a groan and cursed under his breath. you felt his pressed under your thigh and that made you try to hold in how turned on you really were. you held on for dear life on the armrests of his chair as he leaned back a little bit.

“are you getting close, baby girl?” asked morgan.

“yes yes yes fuuuck daddy please let me cum.”

“you wanna cum for me, angel?” asked spencer.

“yes omg please i’m so fucking close!”

“cum for him, princess.” said Luke.

before you could fall down the hill like on a roller coaster, you felt incomplete as he took his fingers out. you let out a little whine, letting the guys know he didn’t let you cum.

“ooooo doctor genius over there didn’t let her cum, how sad.” teased Luke.

“what are you going to do now?” asked Hotch.

“because she’s about to get fucked and really show you how much of slut she truly is. well, MY slut at least.”

spencer took his painfully hard cock out as you moved your shorts to the side. you felt the head enter you and shortly his whole length was slammed deep inside you before you even make a sound. you let out a quiet gasp before a loud moan escaped from your throat.

he let you adjust, but only for a short moment as he quickly began pounding you, holding you from your ass. you were a moaning mess at this point, letting out more dramatic, pornographic ones for the guys.

“fuck he’s really an animal isnt he?” teased Hotch.

“you like being pounded like a dirty slut?” asked Luke.

you moaned out a yes, but it wasn’t enough for them.

“use your words, baby girl.” said Morgan.

“i love being pounded like a dirty slut!”

“tell them who’s slut you are.” spencer growled.

you held onto him from behind his head and pushed his face in between your tits. “i’m you’re slut, spencer,” you moaned, “i’m daddy’s little slut!”

“you’re such a good girl, y/n.” said Hotch.

“fuck daddy can i cum? please let me cum ive been a good girl!”

“what do you think?” spencer asked.

“cum, baby girl.” said morgan

“cum for him, princess.” said Luke.

“cum hard all over his cock, baby.” said Hotch.

you finally came all over his cock, screaming as the pleasure surged through your body. spencer helped you ride out your orgasm and let you catch your breath.

“holy shit” said Luke.

“oh we’re not done yet,” said spencer, “she deserves a reward for doing so well.”

he takes you off his cock and makes you stand up, flipping you around so you were in front of him, your ass sticking out. he quickly put his cock back inside of you and luke and morgan cheered on. he pounds you harder this time, making sure you lose your voice by the time you’re done.

“youre such a dirty slut,” spencer growled, taking a handful of your hair and pulling it, “letting me fuck you over the phone with not just my friends, my coworkers. you like putting on a show for people? you want people to know how much of a fucking slut you are for me?”

your eyes rolled to the back of your head at his words. the pure filth in them almost pushing you off the edge as you squeezed around his cock. even the guys grew silent.

“fuck keep doing that angel, keep squeezing daddy’s cock like tha-shit im close. you want my cum inside you?”

“oh my god yes please, i want to be full of your cum daddy!”

hearing you say those words through him over the edge as you feel him filling you up, hearing him moan your name and cursing under his breath. he stayed inside you for a bit before he caught his breath and left to go get something to clean you up with. when he comes back he looks at you sitting in front of him, watching his cum drip out of you and onto his work chair. he wasn’t even mad about it.

“you did so good, bubs.” he says, walking over and kneeling in front you before cleaning you up.

“you were amazing, baby!” you say. he comes back up and kisses you, and it was hard to break away. but somehow you did after what felt like hours and laughed at yourselves for what you just did. you then remembered they were still on the phone. spencer grabs his phone and faces it towards them.

“well? how was the show?” you asked.

“holy-“

“fuck.” luke cut morgan off.

you had left them speechless before hotch finally spoke up.

“....we will not speak of this at work.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #mgg smut #spencer reid fan fiction #derek morgan smut #aaron hotchner smut #luke alvez smut #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut

2K notes · View notes

popquizhot-shot · 3 years

Note

saw your requests were open so can I ask for a kaz x inferni!reader ❤ (if it's angst to fluff then y e s) Love your writing AND you <3

Here you go love<3, one Kaz Brekker x inferni!reader coming up! Hope you like it! I made the reader a special type of inferni, like you know normal inferni's need a spark to get the fire going, but reader can summon that shit and like make shapes and other stuff like animals that actually move on their own (Yes I made you epic)

Taglist: @kazscrow

Warning- I made it angstyyy( I don't think this will have a part 2)❤❤

UP IN FLAMES-Kaz Brekker x reader

Being a Grisha in Ketterdam was difficult, being a grisha with anger issues was a bit worse, but being a grisha without proper control of their small science along with having anger issues was bad.

It didn't help matters that you were an inferni. and that you were currently dating Kaz Brekker for about a year and a half.

Kaz had recruited you because he needed an extra member in the Dregs and you had fit the bill, in fact, when he first recruited you, he had no idea that you were grisha. He found out when you saved his life one night by making kebabs out of a few thugs.

That was also the night you both started dating.

He knew you didn't use your powers much, and he didn't care. Honestly, he was relieved. You already attracted attention because you were dating him, he didn't want anymore of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Tonight was an important heist. The team had to steal an expensive necklace that could be sold for at least 100,000 kruge on the black market.

Kaz had this 'fool proof' plan. Jesper would be on lookout, while Inej, him and you broke into the mansion and scour the place for the necklace. Inej and Kaz knew the basic layout of the mansion and they need you to be their lookout.

" Why do I have to be on lookout? You and Inej are amazing at multi-tasking!" you asked incredously.

" Just because Y/n/n. and please, if we see a dog, don't go and pet it, last time you almost died." Kaz replied nonchalantly and kissed your forehead, walking towards the exit of the slat, " I have some work to do. I'll be back, get everyone ready by then."

So here you were, trudging behind them like a spoilt kid, one hand on your gun and the other ready to summon. Just in case.

Today was already a bad day, Kaz seemed distant for a while, spending more time planning with Inej, he always seemed to be going out, again with Inej. You saw a pattern and you were a little worried.

Another thing is that, you were pissed at everything today, you didn't know what was wrong, but sometimes, you flared up, and that was when the fire got a little out of control, forming into little balls and randomly shooting out and burning people.

That was the reason you didn't want to come today. True, you felt a little worried that Kaz and Inej were spending a lot of time together, you trusted them. Inej was your best friend, and Kaz didn't seem so worried when you hung out with Jesper or Rotty.

Here is how everything went to shit.

First, you got distracted by a puppy, you didn't go to it, but it just looked so cute that you couldn't help but stare at it. That resulted in all of you almost running into a guard, and Kaz got irritated and glared at you.

You, already irritated about everything accidently let out a small spark of fire, it didn't hurt anyone, but it startled Inej who almost tripped and fell flat on her face.

That is when shit hit the fan.

Two guards found all three of you and just managed to alert a few others before Inej killed them swiftly and quietly.

However, one of them managed to shoot you in the leg and that was when you lost it.

You let a scream and the fire came.

What was dangerous is that, sometimes, the fire formed the image of a lion and it made grown-men pee themselves and die of shock.

That was what happened today, you screamed and it came.

(honestly tho, that is so cool! This image is not mine, i found it on google, if you know who's this is, please lemme know so I can give credit)

It growled and paced towards the guards, who were frozen in fear, snarling and burning everything in it's way.

Kaz and Inej stared at you, Inej in fear and awe and Kaz in worry and anger, because you were on fire. Literally.

By the time the lion managed to get to the guards, they were dead anyway and it was gone.

Kaz and Inej looked at you, you were covered in sweat and ashes, and the mansion was burning, along with the necklace.

You all ran back the way you came and almost made it, but you turned around, much to Kaz's dismay and irritation.

You had gone to rescue the puppy.

As ran out with it, the mother running behind you, Kaz glared at you and you avoided looking at him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

On the way back to the Slat, Kaz was livid, the heist was a bust, the mansion was crawling with Stadwatch and you were shot in the leg, and carrying a puppy.

Jesper took the puppy and it's mother from you, and headed to his room, Inej went tothe Crow Club for a drink and Kaz literally stomped his way up to his office.

After a few minutes of pep talk you headed to his office and knocked.

" Come in." Kaz's gruff voice was heard. You walked in and closed the door immediately and apologised.

" I'm sorry Kaz."

" Oh what for? After all, you just botched the whole job, almost killed Inej, me and yourself, burnt the mansion, along with the necklace and you almost killed yourself going back to rescue puppies! Nothing to be sorry for right?" he said sarcastically.

" I know I ruined the job, but I'm not going to apologize for rescuing the dogs!" you argued, your anger slowly rising.

" If you weren't so distracted, none of this would have happened!" he rose from his desk.

" You think I don't know that? Of course I do! And I'm feeling damn guilty about it!" you shouted, fire swirling from your finger tips, and your eyes going red.

" WHY CAN'T YOU BE MORE LIKE INEJ!?" he screamed.

That was it. You immediately froze. Your eyes going back to normal and the fire disappearing.

" What?" you whispered.

Kaz realized what he just said and his eyes widened, " Darling-"

" No no!" you interrupted, eyes glossy, " I get it, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not like Inej. I'm sorry I'm not perfect. I'm sorry for being myself."

" Y/n I didn't mean what I-"

" No!", you let out a sad chuckle, " you know for once in my life, I thought I found someone who loved me despite my flaws."

"I do! I do love you!" he walked towards you.

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, tears falling from your eyes, you looked him in the eye.

" I guess I was wrong." you walked out and slammed the door shut.

#kaz x reader #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #jesper fahey x reader #six of crows x reader #kaz brekker angst #echo actually writes

222 notes · View notes

lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

Under The Floorboards pt. IIII

(Technoblade X Reader): Pt. I, Pt. II, Pt. III, Pt. IIII, Pt. V

Whipping the sweat off your brow you placed the honey jars you collected on the ground, Phil really built this farm efficiently. However, that didn’t stop you needing to collect honey pots here and there, now that the vault was complete you could actually use the honey for normal things. Technoblade would never admit it but he loved when you put honey in his tea, contrary to popular belief he wasn’t a fan of plain black tea or coffee. You rolled up your sleeves and adjusted the sunhat that sat lazily on your head against your better judgment you had left your armor inside. The only thing on your person was a netherite ax Techno had enchanted for you, it was an effective weapon but without your armor, you were a bit of a sitting duck. As the bees buzzed and bumped lazily into each other, you couldn’t help but smile fondly at the sight. They were just so silly. You picked up the crate of jars and turned around, your eyes narrowed as you saw some movement by the trees, it was still too early for Tommy and Technoblade to be back...so just who was snooping around the property. You felt very naked in your sun hat and overalls, especially if it was Dream himself that you were about to encounter. Your worry only increased as you noticed four men all in netherite armor walking towards the house, their swords were drawn. You had a feeling that these were the men who took Technoblade the day prior. They were like a little gang all dressed the same way, bloody aprons and all they really had the executioner vibes down.

“Hello, gentlemen.” You smiled giving them a wave while you adjusted the box of honey, “beautiful day isn’t it?”

The first to answer was a man who had a scar from the tip of his eyebrow down to the bottom of his lip. He sent you a smile and you noticed a tooth missing from the upper row, a navy blue beanie held his dark hair in place.

“Very beautiful, it’s always a good day when the sun is shining.” He mused the sun in question reflected beautifully across all their netherite armor. The one thing you decided to leave inside, you weren’t intimidated nope not at all. “What’s your name sweetheart?”

“(Y/N).” You responded with a hum, “Is there something that I can help you all with today?” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed two of the men moved to surround you, they thought they were slick. The only one who didn’t move was the tallest of the children there, he looked to be half Enderman. He also looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was right now poor thing. Drawing your gaze back to the other three men, you noticed one was Tommy’s age and had small horns atop his head, along with goat-like ears. A burn scar also took up half of his face. It made you frown distastefully, what was with these kids getting traumatized? First Tommy and now the half enderman and the goat kid, you couldn’t adopt all of them, well you could but it’d be a lot of work. The other looked to be part fox after all the big orange ears and the fluffy tail was dead give away, wait didn’t Ghostbur say his son was a fox. “Are you Fundy?” You asked, suddenly tilting your head to the side.

“How do you know my name?” Fundy’s face flushed a little and he shuffled on his feet, his hand twitching to grab the sword that was at his side.

“I talked to your father earlier today. I’m assuming that’s how you found me?” You took the hat off your head and rested it on Carl’s stable. The fox gave a reluctant nod of confirmation you licked your lips and put your hands behind your back. “So? Do you have a problem with Technoblade or just me specifically?”

“Wow, she’s not even a little bit ashamed.” Quackity mused and you frowned, “We’re here because your boyfriend blew up our country. He also disgraced our President right Tubbo? Don’t know if you’re aware of that or not but he escaped his punishment. So we intend to make him repent.” He walked towards you and you took a step away from him.

“That’s far enough thank you.” You held up your hand in hopes it would stop his trek towards you, Quackity did pause for a moment. He let out a chuckle and smiled. He thought your tough attitude was cute, but he was clearly mocking you.

Jackass.

“Quackity maybe we should leave her be...she didn’t do anything.” The young goat kid murmured his ears flicking as he looked up at you.

“Quiet Tubbo. Let the adults speak,” Quackity snapped at him before clearing his throat and looking back at you. “Listen (Y/N) was it? We’re going to have to ask that you come with us. If you don’t we’ll have to take you by force.”

“Wait, couldn't Technoblade have trained her?” The half enderman spoke holding up his finger in the air but no one seemed to pay him any attention.

“I guess force it is. Although the fight is a little unfair.” You took out your ax and twirled it in your hand, “Something tells me you don’t exactly like fair fights.” Fundy took a hesitant step backward not really wanting to lose a life for this of all things, but he pulled out his sword just in case. Clicking your tongue in distaste you sent a bloodthirsty smile their way, one that rivaled Technoblade, “Come at me.”

Without hesitation, Quackity charged at you with his sword he didn’t aim to kill, just disarm or injure. You blocked the swing with the wooden part of your ax and spun around just in time to dodge an attack from Tubbo. You managed to elbow him in the back and he stumbled forward into Quackity, the man made a grunting sound before shoving Tubbo off of him and into the snow. Fundy moved next and managed to land a hit on the side of your arm, you hissed loudly glaring daggers at the fox. His ears pressed against his head and he let out a small whimper, “sorry!”

“Don’t apologize to her!” Quackity groaned, “You guys are the worst gang ever.” He slapped his forehead as you readjusted your posture, “I have to do everything myself.” Quackity snarled charging at you again you sidestepped out of the way. As he stumbled trying to regain himself he knocked over the honey pots and they shattered against the ground. You swung your ax and managed to land a hit on him in the back of the legs, he let out a strangled yelp and fell on his face into the snow like Tubbo had done earlier. Yanking out the ax out of the leader of the gang blood splattered all over the ground and stained the snow. Little red beads dripped off the ax as you held it by your side, the man only let out another scream as it was torn out of him.

“Back. Off.” You repeated again baring your teeth with a hiss, “Turn around and go back to L’manburg and I won’t kill you. Got it.” The ax was pointed at all of them, you saw the half enderman nod vigorously,

“Yes ma’am.” He nodded rapidly grabbing Tubbo and Fundy by the arm and pulled them back, the three of them watched as Quackity snarled and backed up to join them. You watched them cower and you dropped your ax on the ground so you could press the palm of your hand into the wound on your arm. You quickly turned and ran back into your home to collect bandages and fix yourself up, blood speckled the floor as you made your way into the bathroom. You tore off your overalls and shirt, washing out the wound before wrapping your arm in bandages. You didn’t know how long you stood there in front of the mirror but you looked worse for wear.

Technoblade was going to lose his shit.

---

All Technoblade could think about on their way back to his retirement home, was you. He could only put up with Tommy for so many hours until he needed to talk to literally anyone else. He was ready to get your relaxing date night underway; he could already feel your fingers running through his hair braiding his as you went. He hummed fondly listening as the voices called him simp repeatedly, he didn’t mind this time considering he was when it came to you.

“That’s still cringe chat.” He murmured to himself as Tommy continued to scream about something in the background, “Yeah, yeah I love her.” He heard the chat flip their shit and he fondly chuckled, intermixed with their happy cries there was a distinct sound of ‘E’ as well as ‘nerd.’ He almost didn’t hear Tommy’s worried shouting. He frowned and rolled his eyes back into his skull,

“What Tommy?”

“Technoblade! Technoblade!” The teen bumped back into him, Technoblade grunted and looked down at him. He followed Tommy’s eyes and spotted the blood littered snow outside his house. Technoblade paused and his vision went red around the edges, his eyes stayed trained on the bloodstains as the voices began to roar within his skull. His head shot up and he saw the honey box spilled over on the ground, glass littered the snow, your hat hanging loosely on Carl’s old stable.

“T-Technoblade.” Tommy stuttered again looking up at the pig-man, seeing how glazed over his eyes looked. He swore steam was coming out of Technoblade’s nose and his hand drew out his pickaxe gripping it so tight his knuckles turned white. He felt his tusks grow in size and his face began to shift into his pig form. Tommy’s voice was drowned out by the flood that was the voices in his head:

‘SHE’S GONE. THEY HAVE HER. KILL THEM ALL. BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD. WE DEMAND BLOOD. E. SAVE HER. YOU’RE A FAILURE. YOU DIDN’T PROTECT HER. SLAUGHTER ALL OF THEM. SHE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. SHE NEVER HURT ANYBODY. YOU BROKE YOUR PROMISE. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.’

Technoblade took a step forward to which Tommy rapidly backed up in response. He’s never seen Techno this gone before, oh shit he has it bad for (Y/N). However, Tommy didn’t make a move to stop Technoblade; he didn’t want him to release that rage on him. Technoblade walked into the house, stepping on his glasses that fell off his face. He threw his door open with a loud slam, he needed potions and he needed a new sword.

Whoever did this all their cannon lives were gone he’d make it long and torturous.

A soft voice broke him out of his stupor his entire body went rigid.

“Bubs…” He slowly turned around and came face to face with you, you looked so small, so delicate standing in the doorway. You were wearing your pajamas, soft blue with little sheep all over them. His ears twitched and his shoulders softened considerably seeing you standing safe in the doorway, however, he tensed again the minute he saw the bandages tied around your arm. Blood leaking through them, he growled eyes locking in on the spot as you made soft shushing sounds at him.

‘SHE’S HURT. SHE’S ALIVE THOUGH. BUT SHE’S HURT, THEY NEED TO PAY. ATONE FOR WHAT THEY DID TO HER. BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD. SPILL THEIR BLOOD THEN MAKE OUT WITH HER. SHE’LL LOVE YOU MORE IF YOU DO. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.’

Technoblade jumped feeling her hand caress his cheek, “Bubs it’s alright I’m okay.” Your voice was smooth and soothing, his eyes dilated as you spoke to him. His face shifting back to normal as he breathed heavily through his nose, “See?” You brought his head down to rest against your chest, it looked uncomfortable the way that he was bending. However, he could feel your heart beating in your chest, he made a soft whimper and grabbed onto your shoulders his pink hair tickled your chin. You brought your hands up to run his fingers through his hair as he finally calmed down enough to ignore the voices for the time being. Right now they were just commenting on how nice and warm her hands were anyway.

“What happened to you? There was blood everywhere I was so scared.” His voice broke a little bit as he pulled away from you. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest Technoblade had never looked so broken.

“The butcher squad came and attacked me. They wanted to use me to get to you but I fought them off just like you taught me.” You couldn’t help but smile proudly at him and he let out a disbelieving laugh. His hands moved from your shoulders to your back as he cradled you gently in his arms, you both stood there rocking back and forth together until Technoblade was satisfied.

“That’s my girl.” He finally murmured backing away from you, you flushed at the compliment. Whenever he called you that it made you flush all over, you let out a loud flustered whine and whacked him on the chest. Technoblade laughed at your flustered expression, it was a rare moment the tables were flipped like this and Technoblade was going to take full advantage of the situation. “Princess what’s with that look? Am I, thee Technoblade, making you flustered? I know I’m a lot to handle, I beat Dream once, I never die, I’m not homeless. Guess what?”

“What?” You couldn’t help but let out a giggle as he circles you eyeing you up and down.

“I’m single.”

“Oh really?” You cocked an eyebrow, “I thought you had a girlfriend.” You twirled your hair around your fingers and you felt his strong hands rest on your waist.

“Hm I don’t think so. You might need to refresh my memory,” Technoblade mused kissing your neck tenderly.

“Well she’s stunningly gorgeous, and tough as nails,” Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned back against him. “She absolutely adores you and how protective you are of her, and how much of a gentle giant you are.” He made a noise of protest and rested his chin on the top of your head. You could tell he was pouting at you,

“See, not only is that super cringe but also factually incorrect. I am not a gentle giant, I just committed vast sums of minor terrorism and I also kill orphans so what would my girlfreind say to that huh?” He huffed clicking his tongue distastefully.

“She would say that you’re right but also she sees the way you take care of Carl, and how you put up with Tommy. You’re totally brothers. That makes you at least a little bit soft”

“Not brothers and I don’t like him.”

“Right sure,” You giggled a little and kissed his chin lightly.

Technoblade let out an indignant sound before muttering, “Oh we should probably tell Tommy you aren’t kidnapped. Also discuss what to do about L’manburg now that they know you exist.” You blocked out that last part and made a beeline outside to find Tommy. The teenager in question was fumbling with his hands over by his cobblestone tower, you ran over to him and engulfed him in a hug.

“(Y/N)!” He shouted letting out a disbelieving laugh hugging you back with a childish smile. “You’re okay! Holy fuck I totally thought you were dead and shit! Technoblade was going fucking apeshit! His face went all pig like n’ shit totally thought he was gonna kill everyone for you! Not that I was worried.” He added quickly shoving you away crossing his arms.

“Of course you weren’t THE Tommy is never worried.”

“Yeah exactly Miss Blade you get me.” You smiled fondly at him and you ruffled his hair and he shouted at you to stop. You did so sensing Technoblade approach the both of you, Techno interlocked your hand with his own and squeezed it tightly. “You chill now Big T?”

“I’m always chill Tommy. Only nerds aren’t chill.” He mused with a scoff, “Hence why I always call you a nerd.”

“WHAT THE FUCK TECHNOBLADE! I AM ALWAYS CHILL! I’M THE CHILLEST MAN ALIVE I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW!”

“Stop shouting,” Technoblade groaned burying his face in your hair as you laughed fondly at their antics. Although L’manburg knew about your existence now, and although you knew Dream probably wasn’t too far behind in learning that knowledge either, you felt everything was going to be okay.

All you needed was each other, Technoblde, Tommy, Phil and you. Together you four were gonna do great things, you just knew it.

~~~

I do plan on making another part because people seem to be enjoying this story a lot more than I originally thought when I first posted it. Which is amazing thank you for all the love and support! New stuff is also in the works, thanks again for reading and enjoying! Stay safe guys! 🥰✨

#dream smp #dreamsmp x reader #technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #mcyt #minecraft fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #blood for the blood god #rp

1K notes · View notes

redrobbingabank · 3 years

Text

The Kids are Not Alright

Tommy was in his house when the sirens started. He’d been visiting Shroud. It was a good day. Now, cold, indescribable terror is flooding through him as he sits on the floor, head pressed between his knees. Rocking back and forth, Tommy drags in breath after breath and never registers the oxygen.

Dream escaped. Dream escaped. Holy fucking shit, Dream escaped.

Sam had promised. He’d promised that wouldn’t happen. Pandora’s Vault was the most secure place on the server, the only place Dream couldn’t get out of. He’d been so sure of it that he’d been willing to let Tommy rot inside to protect its integrity.

He should have known it wasn’t true.

He needed to get up. He couldn’t get up. He needed to run. He could hardly breathe. He had to get Tubbo and Ranboo out. He didn’t know where they were. The sirens were still screaming, screaming, screaming.

There were tears on his cheeks. “No, no no no no no no no,” Tommy murmured, finally bringing himself to look up at Shroud. The spider was unaffected, watching him from the ceiling. He focused on Shroud, and slowly, slowly, his breathing evened.

He had to get Tubbo. Dream was probably looking for him oh god Dream was probably already looking for him breathe breathe breathe, he had to get Tubbo and Ranboo and Wilbur thought Dream was good run far, far away.

He shoved himself to his feet, turned on his heel, and ran at full tilt for the tunnel to Snowchester. They had to get away this time. They had to. He couldn’t survive it again.

Las Nevadas was quiet, for a casino town. Tubbo served plenty of burgers, for sure, but today it was empty except for the inhabitants, eating lunch alone despite knowing each other for months. It looked a bit stupid to him, everyone sitting alone at a table with nothing to occupy them but their food, silence reigning.

The exception was Fundy. He sat at the bar, holding a drink Tubbo wasn’t entirely sure he was old enough to serve and ignoring his burger.

“So you’ve been here for like… what, three weeks?” he asked Tubbo. There were massive bags under his eyes. Tubbo didn’t think he’d ever seen his old colleague look so bad. Well, he guessed they were colleagues again.

“Yeah.” Tubbo shrugged and stole a fry. Quackity wasn’t there to yell at him. “You?”

“Few months.” Fundy sounded like he had to drag every word out of his mouth, slumping to prop his head up with a hand. “I don’t even know how he found me. I was living pretty far away.”

Tubbo nodded silently. He glanced over at the table in the corner, where Purpled was definitely eavesdropping. He was too tense, his head turned a little too far to be normal for someone minding their own business.

The doors slammed open so hard the glass cracked. Tubbo whipped around, half expecting DreamXD himself to enter, but it was only Quackity.

Maybe not only. Tubbo’s friend’s face was wild, a maniacal smile fixed on his mouth that reminded Tubbo of that day on the mountain with Dream. He took half a step back. Fundy, who’d flinched at the noise, was eyeing the counter like he had half a mind to jump over it to hide.

“Everyone’s in here, right?” Quackity looked around, doing a quick headcount. “Great.” A scarily gleeful laugh bubbled up. “Team meeting, everyone! Gather round, everyone!”

Fundy, Foolish, and Slime all complied pretty quickly, with varying degrees of bounciness. Purpled and Tubbo took a few moments longer, giving Quackity wary glances before slowly moving towards the center table. Tubbo pulled off his apron and left it on the counter. His hand itched to hold his sword.

Hair had come out of Quackity’s beanie, now resting only halfway on his head. He ran a hand through it, looking around at them all. “So, I don’t know if you’ve noticed––” His voice rang out, echoing off the diner’s walls “––But Dream’s escaped.”

He kept talking, but Tubbo didn’t hear, frozen and listening. His ears were always ringing, ever since the festival. It was an ever-present reminder of the explosions. But as he focused, letting himself hear all of it, the sounds separated.

There was the ringing that was always there, electric and loud. Then there was the quieter, more distant, more urgent ring of the Vault’s sirens.

Ranboo. Tommy. Michael. Snowchester.

Quackity must have been too absorbed in his rant, because he didn’t stop Tubbo as he walked, trancelike, out of the diner. The sun hit him hard. He blinked in the direction of the burger van. Empty. Ranboo usually visited Michael around this time. Snowchester it was, then.

It wasn’t hard to leave Las Nevadas behind. Tubbo had never gotten anything from it past a paycheck. It felt empty, a cooperation where L’Manberg had been a family.

His family wasn’t here. Tubbo needed to make sure they were safe

There was dust on Ranboo’s armor. It was always like that after a mining trip. He’d have to clean it soon, but at the moment he was too tired, and it was time to visit Michael.

The snow in the Arctic Commune reflected sunlight directly into his eyes as he stepped outside, but Ranboo was used to it. He was not used to the people who greeted him. Techno and Phil stood on the bridge between their houses. Techno and Phil. It had been months since Techno left, and the worry that had been accumulating broke away like a chunk of ice. Ranboo dropped the grass block he’d been messing with.

“Techno!” he called, running through the snow to reach them. His legs sank down to the shins in the drifts.

Techno turned around at the decidedly clumsy approach. He looked like he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks, but when he saw Ranboo, he grinned. “Hello,” he called back.

Ranboo dashed up the steps and stopped in front of him. “Where were you, man?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

Phil and Techno exchanged a look. “I’ve been gathering intel,” Techno said finally. “I’m gonna tell everyone about it, but we need to get Niki here so everyone can hear.”

“Oh. Alright.” Ranboo started to move back in the direction of the portal. “I’ve got some stuff I need to take care of in the SMP, so, uh…” he glanced at Phil, who knew where he was really going, and finger-gunned in the portal’s direction. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Cool. Oh, wait, Ranboo!” Techno said quickly.

“Yeah.”

“Just, uh. You’ve got problems with Dream, right?”

Instantly, Ranboo’s skin started crawling. He dragged his thoughts away from the panic room, from Mellohi, from the voice that wasn’t Dream, and the visit Sam said he made. He nodded slightly. “Yeah?”

“Right. Uh, I’m gonna need you to trust me here, dude. When you get to the SMP, someone might tell you Dream’s out of the prison.” Phil looked sharply at him. Ranboo stopped breathing, and Techno held up his hands quickly. “Woah, woah, calm down, it’s fine. He’s not actually out. They just think he is, I promise. I saw him in there myself, okay?”

Did the world feel like it was collapsing in on itself? Yes. But did Ranboo trust Techno to tell him the truth? Yes.

Ranboo backed down the stairs and picked up a grass block from beneath the snow. He held it close to his chest. “You promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, Ranboo.” Techno looked him dead in the eye. “Dream is still in the prison.”

“Then I trust you.” Ranboo turned towards Snowchester. “I really have to go now, though.” He had to find Tubbo and Tommy and make sure they were safe. He had to tell them it wasn’t real. “See you.”

Nerves battled with determination as Ranboo started the trek through the snow, then decided it would take too long and pulled out his ender pearls. Techno would explain, but until then, he’d probably stay away from the prison. He didn’t know what the sirens would do if he heard them.

165 notes · View notes

bestiesenpai · 3 years

Text

Adventures in babysitting - Nanami Kento

Everyone say it with me now: Fucking! The! Babysitter! Femme reader, 3K words

Content warnings: noncon that turns dubcon, cheating, age gap(imagine nanami to be mid forties, 45 preferably), uhm there’s fingers in your mouth in case you’re not into that lol

Nanami was at his wits end with you. One day after another you continued to test his patience and you didn’t even know it. It was becoming so hard to even look you in the eyes let alone be in the same room as you.

Having feelings for the babysitter wasn’t something he should have, he knew this, but at this age Nanami wasn’t one to deny himself the things he truly so desired. The way you pranced around in shorts much too short to be worn around his family, your silly little summer tops bustling in the wind and exposing your midriff, even the way you ate ice cream could be deemed inappropriate.

“Papa, (Y/N)’s here!” His young son shouted one sweltering summer afternoon, breaking Nanami from his daydream of you and bringing him into the present where you were being escorted into his house by his wife.

Standing there in a pair of those little shorts and a tank top that showed a cleavage, skin probably smelling of freshly applied sunscreen and hot to the touch from the sun, it made Nanami’s pants tighten. Coming to stand next to the woman he married, his eyes were still drawn to you.

The words you were saying went in one ear and out the other. You might as well have been speaking another language, Nanami wasn’t following along at all. He was busy tracing the outline of your body, unsullied by the hands of time like he was.

“Bye mama!” Hugging his mother tightly, Nanami’s son pounced on him next. “Bye papa!”

“Have fun you two!” Nanami’s wife spoke for the both of them as you walked off, back to your car with his child.

Hours passed and Nanami still found himself thinking of you, even as he and his wife had sex in your absence. Cupping her ass, he thought of what it would feel like to slip his hands down your shorts and feel yours. As he kissed her, he closed his eyes and pretended it was your mouth his tongue was in. Pulling out and cumming on her cunt, he only wished it was you beneath him, then he would never pull out.

“We’re back!” When you made your return as the sun set, Nanami found it so convenient that his wife had gone down the street to talk to a neighbor.

“Mama’s across the street with the neighbor girl, why don’t you go say hi to them? Tell them all about the movie you saw?” Nanami asked while you had excused yourself to the bathroom.

Turning around and fixing his collar, Nanami smirked as the screen door slammed closed. Walking straight to the guest bathroom, there was no hesitation in his stride, throwing open the door with confidence.

“S-sir!” You’d clearly just finished using the toilet, yanking your shorts back up over your hips as the toilet lid slammed closed. Nanami didn’t say a word as he stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, clicking the lock into place.

“Did you have fun today? At the movies with my son.” His voice was low, calm and cool despite the nerves tingling just under his skin.

“Yes.” Answering him slowly, your hands splayed out to try and cover your front. For some reason, you couldn’t find it in you to do up the button on your shorts, but you still had half a mind to try and appear decent.

“I bet you got a lot of stares.” That statement had your head tilting in confusion and Nanami chuckled. “A sweet young girl like you is sure to attract attention. Why, I bet people thought he was your little brother and not my kid.”

“E-excuse me sir, but-” Surely this conversation could be had outside the bathroom, and you tried to reach around Nanami to open the door.

“I’m not finished.” Snatching you by the waist, Nanami pressed you against the sink counter and stared at you through the mirror, letting his eyes rake more obviously over your figure. “Yes, I know for sure you got stares.”

“Sir!” Gripping the edge of the counter, you were helpless to stop Nanami as he ground his hardening cock over your ass, his fingers making it harder to breath as they trickled up to clutch at your ribs.

Pressing his nose into the side of your neck, Nanami closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. You smelled exactly like the sunscreen he thought you would and the heat from the summer sun still lingered on your body, warming his lips as he kissed you.

“Please let go, this isn’t- isn’t appropriate.” Wriggling in his hold, you clawed at his fingers to let you go. Despite the wear and tear years of fighting curses had brought onto his body, Nanami was still just as strong as when he was younger.

“What would a girl like you know about what’s appropriate? Prancing around my house in those shorts with your ass hanging out.” Wrapping one arm completely around your waist, Nanami snuck his other hand down your shorts, pushing the loose fabric down until it pooled at your ankles and he was able to grab onto your ass.

Keeping his eyes closed, Nanami rubbed and grabbed your ass to his heart’s content. He often stayed up at night agonizing about you and now he was finally getting what he wanted. Pushing your panties down your legs as well, his middle finger dipped between the curve of your ass and grazed your slit.

“Let me go!” Your voice had risen to a scream, desperately hopeful someone else was in the house and would hear your cries. Nanami let silence fall over the two of you, his middle finger lazily circling your cunt and making your thighs twitch against your will.

“Scream and shout all you want, it’s just me and you here.” Opening his eyes to look at you, Nanami sighs when he sees the tears streaming down your face. “Why’re you crying?”

“I don’t- this, please-”

“Sshhh…” Silencing your babbles, Nanami brought his hand to the front of your body, middle finger pressing firmly on your clit. “I know what you need, so just relax and be a good girl.” Flicking his finger, he smirked as you gasped loudly, one hand flying from the counter to grip onto his shirt sleeve.

Locked in a stare, Nanami watched your mouth hang open in shock as he massaged your clit, bringing in two more fingers and making bigger circles. There was slick building between your legs, gradually making his fingers glide easier over your swollen bud. Nudging your legs open a little further, Nanami slid his fingers down to your entrance.

“I’ll go slow for you.” He whispered gently into your ear. Prodding with one finger, he worked the long digit into your cunt, groaning at the way your walls clamped down tightly around it.

Keeping his thumb on your clit, Nanami pumped his finger in and out, kissing up and down your neck as he went. Slowly, your open mouth closed and your lip was caught between your teeth to keep small whimpers of pleasure at bay.

Adding in a second finger, Nanami had you fully rocking back and forth on his fingers, an orgasm that you didn’t want beginning to build between your legs. The slow, gradual pleasure that had built up was blurring the lines of what was right and what was wrong, the fact that this man was your married boss didn’t really matter any more.

Grinding onto his hand, you came with an embarrassed yelp and squeezed Nanami’s hand tightly with your legs. His thumb moved faster as your walls spasmed around his fingers, wanting - and getting - you to whine and moan loudly.

“Sir!” Stamping your feet as the pleasure reached a near painful peak, you forced your legs to relax and let Nanami go. Slipping his fingers out of your cunt, he circled your clit a few times before pulling away.

Grabbing your head with his clean hand, Nanami turned you to kiss him over your shoulder. The angle was awkward and a bit of a strain, but Nanami slid his tongue into your mouth with ease, quickly tracing along your mouth and committing it to memory.

The clanking of his belt buckle brought you back to what was happening outside of the dizzying kiss. The warmth from Nanami’s hard cock was no longer trapped behind a layer of fabric, it was right against your skin and nuzzling between your ass cheeks.

Breaking the kiss, you looked down at his cock. Just like the hair on his head, the trim patch of hair above his cock was starting to gray with a few streaks running alongside blond. Taking your hand from his sleeve, Nanami wrapped your fingers around his cock.

“Look what you’ve done to this old man.” He chuckled, moving your fingers up and down his shaft. A few beads of precum dripped out, coating the outside of your hand and leaving shiny strands of gossamer fluid connecting you to him.

Letting go of your hand to kiss you again, Namai was pleased that you kept stroking him on your own. You were even daring enough to smear more of his precum against the palm of your hand and use it for added lubrication. Going down to his balls, the feather light touches you gave them with the tips of your fingers made a short high pitched moan leave Nanami’s throat.

“Enough playing.” Grunting to cover up the unexpected noise, Nanami turned you back to face the sink and smoothed his hand down your back, pushing you to bend over the sink. Grabbing the base of his cock, Nanami guided himself into your cunt, shuddering deeply at the warmth enveloping him.

Putting his chest flush with your back, Nanami rested his forehead against your shoulder and caught his breath. Fucking you was something that was on his mind constantly, especially when he had sex with his wife. To finally feel the tight velvety walls of your cunt clamp down around his cock, it almost made him cum.

“Ha, not as young as I used to be.” A bittersweet sigh left his lips as he regained his self control and stood up a little straighter. Pushing his once perfectly styled hair out of his eyes, Nanami snaked a hand up your shirt and tugged your bra down enough to cup your breast and mold the flesh between his fingertips. “How do you feel?”

“Sir I-”

“Say my name.” Nanami cut you off swiftly, rolling your nipple in his fingers as he did. “Call me Kento when we’re alone.” Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you nodded and looked him in the eyes through the mirror.

“K-kento…” You say his name slowly, letting it roll and drip down the tip of your tongue, “I feel so full.” Your answer makes Nanami's head fall back, a wave of pride stroking his ego and bolstering his confidence.

It wasn’t like him to lack any in his day to day life, going about his business and doing what he had to do. But over the years, with an aging and changing body, Nanami had begun to wonder deep down inside if he was becoming less of the man he used to be in his 20’s.

“That’s what I love to hear.” But you’d brought it back for him tenfold. You, the babysitter that he shouldn’t be doing any of this with yet fantasized about every day. Giving an appreciative roll of his hips, Nanami smiled at you.

“Now, let me take care of you.” Hunching over your body once more, Nanami pulled his cock out slowly, teasing you with the leisurely drag of his cock before snapping his hips forward and making the first of many loud moans fall from your lips.

Massaging your breast in time with his thrusts, Nanami made sure your ass stayed flush with him as he fucked you. He wanted to drag this out for as long as possible and that meant shallowly humping your cunt like a pathetic teenager.

His lips never strayed far from your neck and he kissed down your back as well, careful not to leave any marks you’d have a hard time explaining to his wife. Instead of leaving the marks of his teeth he left large wet kisses all along your exposed skin.

“Kento, faster!” You sobbed, growing increasingly impatient for him to move. While the lazy thrusts had your legs trembling they weren’t enough to get you to cum.

“So cute when you whine.” Nanami hummed and he could feel himself getting wrapped around your finger. He didn’t have the heart to even think of denying you what you wanted and he stood up, giving you more room to breathe, but only for a moment.

Dropping both hands to your hips, Nanami properly thrust forward and the slap of your ass against his skin could be heard well outside the bathroom. A hunger to have you cum on his cock washed over him and his fingers dropped down to your clit once again.

“Fuck, Kento-” You cried, knees threatening to buckle and give out on you from the sudden pleasure. Wrapping an arm around your hips, Nanami kept you upright as he pounded into you.

Nanami could feel his own orgasm approaching quickly the longer he went. The slick gushing out of you was making it far too easy to pump you full of his cock, your essence dripping down his balls and coating his thighs.

“Papa?” The sudden curious voice of his son had Nanami stuttering to a halt and both your pounding hearts beat even harder. Falling completely silent, you waited for a knock at the door or any other indication the child had heard you two.

Pattering little feet against hardwood were the only things heard in the house, muffled only slightly by your heavy breathing. Listening intently, the footsteps drifted away from the lounge room and up the stairs.

“Keep quiet for me.” Nanami whispered as he began to pump his cock again, this time going as slow as he was before. He kept his fingers on your clit and rubbed tight circles, exhaling sharply through his nose as you whined.

Slapping a hand over your mouth as his son's feet thumped against the stairs once more, Nanami’s brows shot up when you opened your mouth and took his fingers in, flattening them against the curve of your tongue and sucking on them.

Nanami wanted to snarl at the seductive look you cast him in the mirror, your lips wrapped tightly around his fingers and your head slightly bobbing up and down as if it were his cock you were sucking.

When the sound of the front door slamming closed again met his ears, Nanami resumed the vigorous pace he had set previously. Keeping his fingers in your mouth, he snapped his hips forward and pushed the worries of cumming too early to the side.

“Be good and cum for me, naughty girl.” Gliding his fingers along your tongue, Nanami pried your mouth open and grabbed the tip of your tongue, pulling it out from your mouth and making drool drip down your chin. “Messy little thing, aren’t you?” Letting go of your tongue, he smeared your saliva all over your cheeks.

Pushing your ass back against Nanami, your moans reached a crashing crescendo and your knees knocked together. Nanami rubbed your clit furiously as you came, not stopping his thrusts until he was cumming deep inside you and filling you up with the hot, sticky fluid.

“Kento, Kento-” You cried, gripping the counter for dear life. It was a struggle to stay upright and even more of one to remember to breathe properly as your orgasm washed over you. Nanami hadn’t made it any easier, fucking the both of you into overstimulation.

“Good girl, what a good girl for me.” His voice was long gone, wispy and distant as he came down from his high. Keeping his cock snugly inside you he took his fingers off your clit, giving you some reprieve. Bringing them up to his mouth, he sucked on them loudly and licked all of your release off.

Your upper body collapsed against the counter, chest heaving painfully as you struggled for breath. Nanami kept your hips up as he pulled out, spreading your asscheeks apart to watch his seed begin to drip out of you. Letting out a low whistle, he thumbed your clit one last time before leaning over and grabbing some toilet paper, gingerly cleaning you up as you came down.

Once everything was back in order, your clothes fixed and lips thoroughly kissed just one last time, Nanami slowly opened the door. He hadn’t heard the front door open, the voices of his family weren’t resounding through the house. The coast was clear.

“Here’s payment for today.” Just as promised when you planned this outing with his child, Nanami handed you an envelope with your money inside.

“Thank you, sir.” You said quietly, quickly backtracking when Nanami quirked a brow at you. “I mean Kento.”

“That’s better.” Patting you on the back, Nanami pressed a sneaky kiss to your forehead before stepping back and opening the front door for you. “I hope you know this wasn’t a one time thing.”

Unable to answer, you giggle and smile shyly back at him. The gentle smile on his face has a certain flutter coming to your stomach; Nanami has given you special attention, one that you know for sure he isn’t giving to anyone else.

“Get home safe, (Y/N).” He says softly, giving a curt wave of his hand as you walked out of the house and to your car, your panties safely tucked inside his front pocket.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

502 notes · View notes

shorkbrian · 4 years

Note

Fuck the context and the way you portrayed shinso in your brother fic of him was so hot. Can’t wait for him to become unhinged and not even care what his parents would think/if they’re home and just defile you whenever he wants bc he’s just that desperate

Prelude - gonna call this mess “FaMiLy BoNdInG” and bruh trust me it’s a mess but I tried so enjoy k gbye

Pairing - Aizawa X Reader X Shinsou

Prompt - at the top and combined with these two!

Warnings - psuedo-incest, NSFW, non con, dubcon, all the cons. Step dad Aizawa and step bro Shinsou are a force to be reckoned with. Mentions of DP at the end.

Music - I listened to https://open.spotify.com/track/1xFfbxmfenEpn4WawGWXiA?si=OUFp4ANsSR-6V_H187Eblw while writing even though it has NO relation to the fic spsosfnjsdhgsslfdn dead

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking soda and scrolling mindlessly on your phone when your stepbrother had come up behind you, looping his arms over your shoulders as he leaned down.

“Hey girlie, what’re you doing?”

“Nothin’.” You shifted, moving so his mouth was away from your ear, squirming uncomfortably.

There was a beat of silence, before Shinsou stood, his presence looming behind you like a harbinger of evil. “Come up to my room? I’m tired, wanna hold you.” You sighed, hunching your shoulders and curling in upon yourself. You knew it wasn’t a question, wasn’t a request that you could ignore or refuse. He was just giving you the illusion of having a choice. Well, you did have a choice; go with your brother willingly, or get dragged, risk him getting angry if you said you were feeling sick, get into a fight with the man that could pin you to the ground without breaking a sweat.

“Shinsou…. “

“C’mon.” He didn’t wait for you to figure out how to beg for him to leave you be, grabbing your arm and hauling you to your feet with ease. You went limp, what else could you do?

The purple-haired man reached under your skirt, a modest, knee-length thing, wrenching your panties down with one hand. You squeezed your eyes shut when his hand brushed against your hip, when he eyed the panties clutched in his fist.

“Cute.”

Gross.

Then he was tugging you along, headed towards his room.

You were so tired.

Mind almost shutting down, you stumbled when the audible clanking of the garage door beginning to open could be heard.

Dad was home.

Wide eyed, you caught Shinsou’s equally-surprised gaze, the man in front of you tightening his grip on your arm. Without another word, his pace was quickened. Aizawa wasn’t supposed to get home until midnight, was supposed to be working late at the office.

Shinsou tugged you into his room, slammed the door shut, pushed you onto the bed. He had a sense of urgency; he was stressed, thrown off by the sudden and unexpected arrival of your father. “Gotta be quiet now, don’t want dad to hear us, right?”

You nodded, dazed, exhausted. Nothing had happened yet and you were already retreating inside your mind, resigning yourself to whatever your older brother was going to do today. He had said he wanted to cuddle, but that usually meant lazy sex while he hugged you, kissing your neck and falling asleep after making the both of you cum.

Without any preamble, the man climbed onto the bed, putting a hand on your shoulder to gently guide you to lay back. Then he was scrabbling at your shirt, pulling it over your head and leaving you in nothing but your bralette and skirt. He kneeled between your legs, pulling your skirt up to mid thigh to give him more room to maneuver.

“Shinsou please don’t, dad’s-“

“Shhhh, just do what I say and you’ll be fine.”

Shinsou spat into his palm, the sound making you cringe as you thumbed at the soft blankets underneath you. He was unbuttoning his pants, shoving at his underwear until he could get his cock free. The man went quicker than usual as he slicked up his length with his spit, very much aware of the presence of someone else in the house.

At this point, Shinsou really didn’t care.

He had been fucking you for so long, pulling you aside for a quickie when your parents ran to the store, taking his time when they went away for a weekend, fucked you on the couch when they went out for date-night. Feeling particularly bold today, he barely thought to pause when your father had gotten home. Right now, he wanted to lay down with his little sister, fuck you until you fell asleep, and then cuddle with your pliant body. Dad home or not, he was determined.

Your skirt was pushed even further up your body, the material bunching at your waist so your stepbrother had unfettered access to your bare pussy. Clenching your eyes shut, you turned your head away as you felt Shinsou pull your hips into his lap so he could rub his cock against your folds. He hissed at the sensation, spitting into his hand again before reaching around his cock to smear his saliva onto your puffy slit, too impatient and hurried to properly prep you.

It was odd to see the purple haired man like this; usually he was very laid-back, slow and gathered in his movements. Right now he was rushing, pushing the tip of his cock slowly into your entrance when usually he would still be making you cry on his fingers. The stretch was immediate, almost burning, and your lungs tightened.

A hand reached up to cover your mouth, Shinsou’s thumb massaging your cheek as he hushed you. You grabbed onto his arm, not to pull him away (it would be useless, he was so much stronger than you), but to ground yourself, able to do nothing but hold onto the man causing you pain.

The sound of dishes clattering down in the kitchen had Shinsou’s hips bucking forward suddenly, filling you up, pressing too far, too soon. He swore lowly, hand tightening around your mouth as you let out a pained noise.

His hips stilled, the hand not at your mouth petting soothingly at your hip in an imitation of comfort. Funny, you thought - you wouldn’t need comfort if your stupid step brother could manage to keep his dick in his pants.

As the seconds passed, both of you aware of Aizawa down in the kitchen, your muscles slowly relaxed. The stretch burned less, felt more manageable. Still, you were entirely unprepared when Shinsou drew his hips back before rutting into you.

You screeched, the sound muffled by his hand but undeniably loud. Shinsou leaned over you, unwittingly pushing himself deeper as he tried to soothe you with his quiet “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

If you were able, you would scream that you weren’t. You weren’t okay, nothing was okay. Everything about this was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. The way his hips were twitching into you, the way he kissed your cheeks and thumbed away your tears. The pleasure that was sparking in your core, the fact that it was your stepbrother getting ready to pound you into the mattress.

He was thrusting smoothly now, cock drilling into you a a steady pace. You were getting wet, the slide easier and less painful, pleasure slowly filtering in. When Shinsou plucked at your clit, you squirmed, hips shamefully moving to meet his own. He started increasing the pace, breathing heavily as the two of you rocked together on the bed. Occasionally his bed creaked, the wood rubbing at the joints and squeaking.

On one hand, you hoped dad didn’t hear. On the other, you wished he would - that he’d come save you from his son.

You got a mockery of your wish.

“Kids?” Aizawa was walking up the stairs, the third step that always creaked whenever someone tread on it announcing his ascent.

“Shit.” Shinsou breathed, pulling out of you, manhandling you quickly. He threw back the covers of his bed, shoved you down, settled behind you. He didn’t have to tell you to be good - the taboo, disgustingly wrong nature of what he had been doing was too embarrassing for you to reveal to your stepfather. Accusing his biological son of assaulting you? Raping you? Would dad even believe you? You didn’t want him to see you like this, you couldn’t.

Dad knocked as Shinsou pulled the covers up, covering your state of undress. You knew your bralette straps were still visible, and Shinsou still had his shirt on. It would probably just look like the two of you had been napping, but then again, it would still seem odd. Whenever your parents were home you stayed as far away from your brother as possible - you weren’t one to just go cuddle with him.

The door creaked open, and your dad peered in. You were so embarrassed, half-naked and utterly humiliated underneath the covers. You didn’t know what to feel or what to do, frozen in fear and indecision.

“Hey dad, need something?” Shinsou rumbled from behind you, voice steady and monotoned.

Light eyes scanned the room, before settling on you and your brother. Aizawa gave you a confused glance, obviously not expecting you to be in here, before his eyes shifted to the man behind you. “Wanted to let you know I’m home. Mom won’t be back until late, do you two have any specific requests for dinner?”

Shinsou shifted closer to you, so close that you could feel his rapidly beating heart through the warm flesh of his chest.

“Nah, we’re fine with whatever.”

Aizawa nodded, giving you one more confused glance. Maybe he could tell something was up? You felt like you couldn’t breathe. As the dark-haired man turned, obviously moving to shut the door and head back down to the kitchen, Shinsou was pushing his cock into you, his heart trying to beat out of his chest against your back.

Before you could stop yourself, you were whimpering.

“Dad….”

Shinsou froze as Aizawa turned back, stepping further into the room. You were quiet, tears budding at the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t make yourself utter another word, completely unsettled at the situation. What were you supposed to do? You wanted him to save you, but you didn’t know how to ask. Your stepfather was studying you, was waiting for you to say something more. His gaze was flickering between you tearful eyes, your bralette straps visible above the blanket, the position you and Shinsou were in. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

All three of you were silent, the moment seeming to stretch on forever.

You were so tired.

Breaking the stillness, Aizawa took another step into the room, brows slowly drawing down as the realization dawned upon him.

“Shinsou.” HIs voice was low, he rolled his son’s name in his mouth quietly, almost hesitantly. “What the fuck is going on.”

Your brother’s cock was still inside you.

“I was tired. (Y/N)’s cuddling with me, she was telling me about a dog she saw-“ Aizawa snorted, arms crossing as he took another step towards the bed. “Nice try. Don’t lie to me. Tell me what the fuck you’re doing.”

Shinsou was silent behind you, his heart beating loud and fast against your back.

“(Y/N), what’s going on?” His voice was softer as he asked you, throaty still - but softer. The tears clouding your vision finally flooded, streaming down your cheeks as you looked up at him.

“Please… I....” You couldn’t formulate the words, mortification surrounding your body, Shinsou’s hand squeezing bruises into your hip. It was too much. You wished you had never existed, that none of this had happened.

Unable to get an answer out of either of you, Aizawa strode forward, grabbed the covers, ripped them off the bed and dumped them in a heap.

You sobbed.

Both men were silent as you cried fat tears, embarrassed at being revealed, gratification at dad finally discovering the awfulness you had been subjected to these past few months.

Shinsou thrust his hips further into your warmth.

You choked, eyes snapping up to Aizawa. Shinsou was supposed to stop the second the two of were caught. He wasn’t supposed to keep going. Why wasn’t dad saying anything? Telling Shinsou to get off of you, get out of the house? Why wasn’t he calling the police? Why wasn’t he pulling your skirt down, trying to preserve your modesty?

The man was staring at the mess between your legs, Shinsou’s cock sliding in and out of you as you sobbed. Aizawa was breathing a bit heavier, his face, stance, demeanor no longer angry.

Dread filled your bones, settled like hot glue.

“Can you see how wet she is? She’s dripping.” Shinsou prodded, Aizawa frozen in place, mouth dry as he watched. “She’s always so warm inside, feels so nice.“

He was egging Aizawa on, seizing the moment and capturing his dad’s hesitance, manipulating it. You let out a whine as Shinsou’s pace picked up, cock beginning to hammer into your pussy. The purple haired man looped an arm underneath your thigh, hefting it into the air to allow Aizawa a better view.

“Doesn’t she sound so sweet? She tastes just as good, feels even better.” He was breathing heavily now, as he rutted into your warmth. Dropping your thigh, Shinsou reached for your clit, trapping the nub between his fingers and flicking at it. You cried out, your own hips squirming in indecisiveness , unable to choose between puling away or pushing back into the delicious sensation. It didn’t take much more to have you cumming.

Shinsou grunted as your walls squeezed around his cock, giving a few more frantic thrusts before he shot his load deep within your cunt, hips twitching as he worked through his own orgasm

You watched Aizawa sit down on the bed, close to your knees.

“How long?” He sounded strained. Shinsou shrugged, still panting.

Aizawa’s rough hand rested on your knee, his flat eyes closing as he paused. “Get up.”

The command wasn’t directed at you, but at your brother. Somehow, you didn’t think it would end up with your stepdad kicking his son out of the house.

Shinsou seemed to think the same as he pulled out, uncaring to the way you flinched as his cock dragged against your sensitive walls. He was silent as he shuffled to the end of the bed, tucking his dick back into his pants.

Aizawa grabbed your ankle and in one smooth move, dragged you to him. You squeaked at the sudden movement, eyes wide as you watched Aizawa look you up and down. The front of his slacks were tented.

He pulled you into his lap, your back to his chest, turning so the both of you faced Shinsou who still stood at the foot of the bed.

“Does he make you feel good?” The older man’s stubble was scratchy against your cheek. You didn’t know where this was going, felt so lost and bad and sick.

“Sometimes…”

It was impossible to lie. You knew if you did, Shinsou would cut in, tell his father how he made you cum everytime. How most of the time, you were screaming in pleasure before he would even take his pants off.

Looking at the floor, you missed the look between father and son.

“He touch you here?” You gasped as a large hand grasped at your chest through your bralette. Aizawa’s hands were bigger than his son’s, rougher and more confident in their touch.

“Yes.”

“What about-“ tears streamed down your face as the hand slid further, over your tummy, over the fabric of your skit, down to your abused, sensitive cunt. “-Here?”

“Please stop, please.”

Aizawa didn’t answer, let his hand rest over the top of your pussy, feel his son’s cum slowly leaking out. “Shinsou, come here.”

The purple-haired man obeyed, stepping closer, falling to his knees at the edge of the bed when Aizawa motioned for him to do so.

“Clean up your sister.”

You weren’t too surprised. It shouldn’t have been hard to see where Shinsou had learned his nasty little tricks from. Still, it hurt your heart, struggling in your step-dad’s lap as he held you in place.

Shinsou was smiling, leaning forward to shove his face in-between your thighs, chuckling when you yelped as he tongued over your hole. You used your hands to shove at his head, pull at his hair, but he caught them in his grip. They were pulled down by your sides, where Shinsou held them still.

“No, no! Stop! You can’t, no—dad!!” You were sobbing, pleading as Shinsou continued his assault on your cunt, licking out his own cum from your insides. Aizawa was holding your legs, keeping you spread-eagled and open.

“I’m not a good guy (Y/N), neither of us are.” His hardness was rubbing up against your back as you squirmed. “And from now on, you call me daddy.” “No! I won’t, let me go!” You thrashed, putting all your energy into loosing the iron grip holding your legs. Shinsou pulled back, licking his lips as he glanced up at his father.

“She was like this when I first had her. Mouthy little thing, still hasn’t learned proper manners.” He didn’t wait for Aizawa to respond, leaning back forward to continue slurping at your swollen lips.

“That’s alright, she’ll learn… I am a teacher after all.”

You wanted to vomit. You went limp, sobbing raggedly in Aizawa’s arms - completely demoralized and humiliated. There was no use fighting when Shinsou had been hurting you. Now with two fully grown men focused on you? Forget about it.

Aizawa was quiet as Shinsou worked you up to an orgasm, the only sound besides your crying the wet, squishy lapping of Shinsou’s tongue suckling at your pussy. When he switched his focus to your clit, you wheezed, jolting in place as his tongue started laving over the little bud rapidly, quickly throwing you higher and higher and-

You wailed through your second orgasm, almost unable to breathe.

Moments passed before you were able to calm yourself, ugly-crying and begging the two men to please, please leave you alone. Please leave, don’t touch you.

If you weren’t numb from your orgasm, you would feel sick.

“Shinsou, where’s your lube?”

Purple hair bounced as your brother cocked his head, still kneeling between your legs. “She doesn’t need lube, she’s soaking wet.”

“She’s gonna need it if we’re both going to fit.”

Neither man seemed to be able to hear your panicked pleas, too excited about prepping you to take both of them together.

What an awful attempt at family bonding.

#yandere #yandere oneshot #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere shinso hitoshi #yandere aizawa shouta #creepy aizawa #stepbro #stepbrother #stepfather #step dad #tw dubious consent #tw noncon #noncon tw #yandere shinso x reader #yandere aizawa

3K notes · View notes

paterson-blue · 3 years

Text

Summary: Sackler's working on his impulse control. No, really--he is, he swears. It's just a lot harder when it comes to you.

Word Count: 8,432

Warnings: fem!AFAB!reader, angst with a happy ending, fluff, sexual tension, friends to lovers (but moves into established relationship), domestic shit, the regularly scheduled Sackler chaos, Sackler is soft, an anxious boy; a nervous boy, excessive gatorade drinking (it's his brand), classic Sackler banter, hair braiding, teasing, handjobs, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), slight nose action, unprotected PIV sex (no chance of pregnancy), cock warming, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint) — let me know if I need to add anything else!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

You’d entered his life slowly, inch by inch, sneaking into his consciousness until suddenly you were all he thought about. When he’d decided to wave at you across the aisle of the bodega all those months ago he’d had no idea of what the future would hold. All he knew was that he’d been seeing you there every day like clockwork; same time, same aisle.

He always grabbed a red Gatorade and you always grabbed some sort of sugary drink of your own. Occasionally the two of you seemed to move in sync, opening the fridge, reaching up, grabbing your item, and slamming the door all in one motion together. Adam thought it was kinda funny, two strangers' lives lining up in such a way, being part of each other’s daily routine. So one day he waves, a goofy grin on his face as he points to his signature bottle of red goodness.

You blink at him in surprise before almost shyly smiling back, your eyes bright, and oh—Adam’s stomach does a dangerous little flip-flop.

He waves at you for two weeks straight until it’s not enough anymore. He comes into the bodega one day determined to talk to you but with no concrete plan of how to do it. He’s a little early in his excitement, and he finds himself having to aimlessly browse the little store like a fuckin’ idiot before the familiar bell dings and he sees you come through the door. He half-trips over to the drink aisle, trying not to come across like he’s following you around, even though he definitely is.

You’re studying the various beverages in the fridge, mouth scrunched up as you consider them. He only allows himself a moment to admire you, not wanting you to catch him staring. He steps closer, boots thudding on the floor, making you look up at him. Now’s your chance, Sackler, a voice echoes in his head.

“What’s today’s flavor?” he hears himself say, and he feels relief wash over him when you give him that pretty smile.

“Oh, I’m not sure.” You sigh, settling your hands on your hips. “Maybe just water.”

“What?! Bullshit! You never get water!” Oh, so he’s just gonna double down on being a creep, huh? Saying he knows exactly what you get every day? Adam wants to smack the palm of his hand against his forehead.

But then you’re letting out a laugh, shaking your head at him. “Well maybe sometimes I like to change things up. We can’t all stick to red gatorade every damn day.”

Your comeback makes Adam feel half-giddy, both from the easy banter and from the acknowledgement that you’ve been paying just as much attention to him as he has to you.

“Well, I’ll have you know that red flavored Gatorade has special health benefits that others just don’t.” He states, leaning against the cool glass of the fridge. You’ve gone back to browsing, but you keep shooting him amused little looks; his ego crows at your attention.

“Is that so?” you ask, humoring him as you indeed select a bottle of water from the bottom shelf.

He’s nodding when you straighten back up, and points accusingly at the bottle of water. “Can’t believe you’re going for the boring shit.”

“Well,” you shrug, holding the bottle to your chest, “I’m feeling pretty boring today. But I dunno, tomorrow might be different. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

She doesn’t mean anything, Adam tries to tell himself. The two of you had been there together every day for the past two months. It’s not abnormal for you to assume he’ll show up again the next day. But still, your words, the between-the-lines invitation for him to see you again, makes his heart leap.

“I guess I will,” he responds firmly before grabbing his regular gatorade from the shelf. This time the two of you walk up to the register together, and before Adam can stop himself he’s digging into his jeans pocket, tugging out a couple crumpled bills. “Hey kid, lemme pay for that.”

You hesitate, but nod, chirping out a “thank you” in that sweet voice of yours. Adam slaps down the money, throwing in a pack of sunflower seeds along with the drinks. If it’s just to make the transaction last two seconds longer—to make him standing there with you two seconds longer—then he’ll keep it to himself. Soon, you’ve got your water and you're waving a goodbye as you step out of the store and onto the busy sidewalk.

Adam follows at a distance; watches you walk away, your purse slung over your shoulder, water already open and pressed to your lips. He watches until you disappear into the crowd, and then he’s sighing, looking down at his feet. It’s not until he’s trudging back home that he realizes he never even got your fuckin’ name.

_______________________________________

It’s another day before he gets your name. A week before the two of you leave together, leaning against the wall outside and sipping your respective drinks; two before he’s asking for your number. For some reason, you actually give it to him.

He’s nervous to text you first, which is unlike him. Sure, in the past he would get a little anxious, not wanting to make a complete fool out of himself, but he still went through with it. But it takes him an entire day to shoot you a message, asking if you wanted to go sit in the nearby park after the bodega stop. Your answer is an immediate yes, and suddenly Adam is eying the hole in the collar of his green t-shirt, wondering if he should change.

It’s not a date. The bodega isn’t a date, the park isn’t a date—the walks and lunches, coffee shops and movie nights in the weeks following aren’t dates either. So what if he cleaned the absolute shit out of his apartment before you came over for dinner? So what if he wore his nice jeans and black dress shirt, sleeves all rolled up to show off his forearms? So fuckin’ what?

It’s not a date.

It’s not a date until, a month into all your not-date’s, you’re standing at the sink with him as the two of you tag-team-clean the dishes. He’s washing, you’re drying, and there’s an easy rhythm flowing until a soapy plate slips from your grasp as he hands it to you. The dish smacks into the water-filled sink, creating a splash that soaks the both of you. You inhale a loud gasp, laughter already in your voice.

He seems to get the brunt of it, the front of his green plaid shirt darkening as warm, sudsy water bathes the fabric. His shoulders hunch up in surprise, and you’re giggling, covering your mouth with your hand. “Shit, I’m so sorry, that was an accident I swear.”

“Oh I call bullshit,” he growls, a grin spreading over his face. He yanks his arms up high, wriggling his fingers over your head so that water and suds drip onto you. “Pay back!” He crows, stalking towards you. You can easily duck under his arm to sideswipe him, to escape his grasp, but you don’t.

Instead, you swat at him with the dish towel in your hands, laughing as you shuffle backwards. “You better fuckin’ not, Sackler! I’ll scream!” You make idle threats at him but he doesn’t listen. He steps forward, forward, forward, hands dripping water all over your hair and shoulders as you shriek.

“I’mmmmm gonna getcha!” he sing-songs, jumping towards you, the wood floor creaking under his big feet. He’s got you cornered now, your back against the wall—ha! His arms swoop down in an attempt to engulf you, aiming to press his wet hands and shirtfront against you, but your hands fly out to grasp his wrists to halt him.

“I just bought this shirt!”

“It’s soapy water, it’s just gonna get more clean!”

“Adam!” You laugh, your voice betraying a tone of fond exasperation. And oh, you’re all smiley and breathless, eyes shining up at him—you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen, lighting up his kitchen and his heart and his whole fuckin’ life with the brightest, warmest sunshine he’s ever felt. He stares at you, admiring you freely, not able to help it. You don’t seem to mind; you’re looking straight back at him, thumbs rubbing little circles on his wrists where water was trickling down to his forearms.

Adam’s never really been one for impulse control. That shit’s just never appealed to him. What was the point? If you’re gonna do something, just fuckin’ do it—get it out there in the open and see what happens. Yeah, sometimes things don’t go well, or—okay, they go really fuckin’ bad—but sometimes things turn out for the better! And the sweet feeling of elation whenever his bet, whenever trusting his gut, pays off? It was worth the risk.

So he lunges down, capturing your face in his wet palms as he presses his lips to yours. And shit, by some strange miraculous twist of fate you’re actually kissing him back. It makes him press forward, shoulders scrunched up and back curved towards you, angling himself for you to take. He thinks he could die happy, finally having your mouth against his, finally holding you the way he’s needed since the first fuckin’ day he saw you.

You sigh into his mouth and he gobbles it up greedily, sucking at your bottom lip, full on moaning when your tongue swipes against his cupid’s bow. When you insist on pulling away to get some air he stays close to share your breath, brushing his nose against yours. You hum out a pleased little noise and he wants to melt into the floor. He thinks about doing it—about sinking to his knees and pressing his face into your stomach, holding you tight, tight, tight.

He thinks he might have, if you hadn’t reached up to card your fingers through his hair, fingertips massaging deliciously at his scalp. He presses a needy little kiss to the corner of your mouth; your lips quirk upwards at his touch. When you break the silence it’s in a hushed tone, your hands sliding over his biceps. “That was nice.”

Adam grins, rubbing the tip of his nose over your cheekbone just because he can. “I can do better,” he promises cheekily, “Just gotta let me show you.”

You laugh, saying oh really? in a way that has him preening.

“Hell yeah. I’m a very well rounded individual.” He finally straightens back up, watching you with hopeful eyes, painfully shoving back the urge to ask you if you wanted to kiss him again.

“… I’ve got work tomorrow,” you finally say, and Adam nods, because he knows you do. You took your shit seriously. But oh, you’re reaching for his hand, and the relief he feels when you touch him is immediate. “But I'm free tomorrow night,” you tell him, your own eyes bright, waiting for him to take your offering—and there’s no way in hell he’s going to pass it up.

“Well good, because we’re having dinner. That back alley Thai place. And then I’ll take you out to that gross ice cream shop down the street you like so fuckin’ much.”

You nod, bouncing on your toes a little, and it’s so goddamn cute that Adam almost dips down to kiss you again. The most he lets himself do is rub the back of your hand with his thumb, watching you intently. “And I’m fuckin’ paying, don’t even think about bringing any money.”

You offer him a grin. “Alright. It’s a date.”

Adam nods, so fast he thinks he probably looks unhinged, but hey—that’s nothing new. “You bet your ass it’s a date, kid.”

An actual date. With you. It only took three months.

_______________________________________

So yeah. Impulse control.

Never been Adam’s thing.

It’s not that he doesn’t think about his actions. Okay, well, sure, sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he just goes with his gut and throws caution to the wind, like when he’d kissed you. He’d just known it was what he should do, and so he did it. He likes to think most of his impulsive decisions are perfectly logical and sound, even the ones that don’t work out. It’s not his fault if other people don’t always agree with what he does. This is how he’s lived his life all these years, and it’s worked out more often than not. Why change something that isn’t broken, or whatever the saying is.

Except. He meets you. And fuck, suddenly he’s overthinking every little urge, every little snap judgement—tight-rope walking the thread of fate. He’s on edge for the best of reasons; you’re the most wonderful thing he thinks has ever fuckin’ happened to him and there’s no goddamn way he’s going to jeopardize what the two of you have. He has to do this right, has to do things properly. He’s going to date the absolute shit outta you and there’s nothing you can do about it.

He likes it, really—hopping each little stepping stone that leads to more of you. Taking things slower than he has in ages, maybe ever. He knows, in the back of his mind, that if he flew into you at his usual gale force chaos, you’d accept him all the same. Because you’re good. You’re soft and sweet, and have turned his life into something golden and warm.

But you deserve more than his chaos. You were so gentle and vulnerable with him, and Adam—he wants to be the same way with you. For you. So he grapples with his impulses, shoving them down when they rear their ugly heads. He’s not gonna fuck this up, no matter how much his brain tries. And oh, does it try.

_______________________________________

For example, he almost tells you he loves you not two weeks into the course of dating you.

It’s not his fault, honest—or that’s what he tells himself. His feelings just like to…. overwhelm him. Endlessly.

See, he’d had a show—a play; one he’d been working on since before he’d waved at you in the bodega those months ago. You knew about it, sure. He’d talked about it (ranted about it) plenty of times. You always listened even if you had no clue what he was going on about, always gave him whatever he needed—whether that was being alone, or extra rehearsal time, or allowing him to flop into your couch and scream into the pillows.

Still, he hadn’t invited you to the opening night. Or any nights, actually. He was too nervous, as much as he hated to admit it—mostly about fucking things up if you were there. Honestly, the thought of you sitting, watching him, made his insides all… wriggly. And even if it was the good kind of wriggly, he’d be too hyper-aware of it, too distracted by it.

He feels guilty even if you don’t seem upset. You have brunch with him—yeah, he was doing fuckin’ brunch now. That shit was good—and then give him a goodbye kiss, telling him to “break a leg.” It makes him smile, and he insists on a couple more kisses, just for luck. And then he’s off to the final rehearsal before opening.

It goes off without a hitch, and Adam’s beyond elated—and relieved, and proud. As he scrubs off his sweat and makeup backstage, he can’t help but wish he had someone there to share his pride with. But he doesn’t have time to get into his head; there’s stupid fuckin’ rich people to schmooze outside, and the director had told him under no uncertain terms would he be in attendance.

Adam yanks on his tie as he makes his way through the theater’s halls towards the ballroom, not looking forward to the boring conversation and unnecessarily tiny food he had ahead of him. He tries to sneak his way through the crowded lobby area but it’s kind of difficult to be discreet with his sheer size—something that shouldn’t surprise him by now and yet does every single time. He forces out gentle smiles and humble “thank you’s” at the praise his performance receives, attempting to make his long legs work double time.

But then he spots something in his periphery. He’s not even sure what it is at first, really--just that it means something to him. It’s important. A flash of fabric as someone exits the large revolving doors, and there it is, that nagging in his head, that impulse. He veers off course without even thinking about it; fuck the schmoozing. Following that flutter of fabric, he shoves his way through the door and people, stumbling out onto the sidewalk. His dark eyes scan the busy street before landing on what his subconscious had been so attracted to.

You.

It stuns him at first, shocks him to silence--and not much can do that, if he’s being honest. You were here. Had you been here the whole time? Did you watch the whole thing? Were you just gonna leave? Adam thinks all these things at once, his mind a cacophony of noise, and suddenly he’s bellowing your name over the bustle of the crowd. He watches you jump, acknowledges the head turns he’s getting--he doesn’t give a fuck. You’re turning to look at him and he’s all but bounding over, zeroed in on you. You looked so goddamn gorgeous, the lights of the city casting multicolored glows over your skin.

“You’re here.” He says when he gets close enough, gaze bouncing all over you, not able to keep to one spot.

You give him a sheepish look, extending him just half a smile. “I… Yeah, I’m sorry. I wanted to come. I know you didn’t ask me to, but this show is so important to you and I--” You let out a small laugh, “--I wanted to support you, even if it was a secret?”

Adam’s chest fills with warmth, and his voice is noticeably quieter when he speaks again. “And you were just gonna leave without saying goodbye? What the fuck, kid?”

You shrug, but in a bashful way, not in a way where you’re blowing off his question. “Well, it wasn’t about me, you know? I wanted to be here for you, but until you were ready for me to be here, be here… I wasn’t wanting to, I don’t know--force your hand, or anything.”

And shit, if that doesn’t give Adam pause. He doesn’t think he’s ever had someone do something like this for him--support him without wanting something in return, without wanting recognition for their ‘good deed.’ You were giving him yourself even when he wasn’t around to acknowledge it or thank you for it. The words almost slip out of his mouth right then and there. I love you. It would be so simple.

They’re on the tip of his tongue, ready to tumble out in the open area between the two of you at a moment’s notice; he does the only thing he can think of to stop it from happening. He lunges forward, half yanking you to him as he slams his mouth down onto yours. It's… not as gentle as he intends, but he’s desperate, because the words are already leaving his lips in a muffled jumble. He’s kissing you on the crowded sidewalk like he’s fuckin’ starving for it, like he can’t breathe without it. Maybe he can’t. He sure isn’t stopping to find out.

“Adam--” you murmur into his mouth, and he grunts at you in response, which earns him a laugh. Your hands slip over his dress shirt, underneath his suit jacket, and he leans into your touch. You pull away from his lips, but press lingering kisses to his jaw, and Adam thinks maybe it’s an okay compromise. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close; says the only (other) thing he can think of--that he knows he has to get off his chest.

“I don’t wanna fuckin’ date anyone else. Don’t wanna kiss anyone else. Just you.” He makes sure to look at you when he says it, not caring how intense he comes across. If he can’t say that he loves you outright, he’ll do it in every other little way he can. “I wanna do boyfriend shit for you. Like—like make you canned soup when you’re sick and—and text you whenever I see a fuckin’ tree that reminds me of you.”

You smile up at him in that way that makes him feel ridiculously small and a million feet tall all at once. “Boyfriend shit, huh? Does that mean I need to start thinking of girlfriend shit to do?”

Adam nods briskly, but then pauses, his hands sliding up and down your back. “Only if you want to.” He tries to school his tone into something soft and neutral, trying to protect himself in case you say no.

But then you’re relaxing into his chest, resting your head over his thrumming heart. “I want to.”

He’s glad you can’t see his grin, and he holds you tighter to him, hoping you wont notice the way he’s literally fuckin’ vibrating with happiness. He wants to shout, wants to yell out at everyone passing by on the street. Hear that, everyone?! She’s my fuckin’ girlfriend now! Mine!! Ha!

“Do you wanna come back inside with me?” He asks instead, trailing his fingertips up and down your arm. “I have to go suck up to a bunch’a idiots so they’ll give the director some money. They might be willing to give more if I bring along some hot eye candy.”

You snort, pulling away from him; his gaze flits over your face, taking in your pleased smile and sparkling eyes. You were happy. He made you happy. It’s all he ever wants, really. You agree to coming with him, and he gives you his arm to hold onto as he escorts you back into the building, head held high with pride.

_______________________________________

Of course, it just makes things harder.

He’s swallowing down “I love you’s” left and fuckin’ right: when you pick him up from an audition and hand him a red gatorade. When you remember his lunch order from the café down the street. When you laugh at something dumb he’s said—a joke he knows isn’t that funny.

When, alternatively, you say Sackler in that exasperated-yet-fond tone whenever he’s said something annoying. When the two of you sit quietly in the living room together, each doing work, comfortable in the silence. When you pass behind him while he’s cooking and brush a gentle hand against his back, casual as can be.

He swallows the words down the first time he stays over at your place. It’d been an accident; he’d fallen asleep on the couch after getting back from an out-of-state visit to see his niece. He’d woken up in the morning to the smell of coffee, finding himself tucked under blankets. You’d come over when you saw that he was awake; brushed his hair out of his bleary eyes, said- “Good morning, sleepy head.”

He starts staying over a lot more after that, in your bed instead of the couch. Each time he wakes up next to you, wrapped around you, one of you half on top of the other—his chest fuckin’ aches. And still, his brain tells him to keep his thoughts to himself, to hold his feelings in his chest until the right moment. What’s the right moment? He asks himself. He never receives an answer.

It’s a torture he’s never experienced before and he doesn’t know what to fuckin’ do with himself. The first time you climb into his lap, tugging his jeans open, wrapping your perfect hands around his cock--all he can do is stare up at you, plush mouth hanging open, barely daring to breathe much less let the usual filth fall from his lips.

Because holy fuck, you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, so perfect for him, and he’s pretty sure if he tries to say a single thing he’s going to let it slip. So he just yanks you close, biting at your lips, letting you swallow down his grunts and groans. He touches you everywhere--tries to let his hands do the talking for him.

He thinks he should probably tone down just how fervently he’s staring at you as he presses his thick fingers deep inside your pussy, but he has to see, has to know he’s making you feel good. “Tell me.” He manages to say, voice hoarse as he glances down to see your sticky wetness on his fingers before he pushes them back in, thumbing at your clit as he does so. “Tell me how it feels.”

You’re quiet but from your whimpers and whines, and Adam almost adds on a desperate please before you’re suddenly speaking, your words more of a babble as he works you. “F-Feels good, Adam, baby, feels so full. Can--can you--a little faster?”

A little faster? He can do that. He speeds up the motion on your clit, curling his fingers against that special spongy area inside as he pounds them in and out of you, brown eyes nearing black as he stares you down. “Like this?” he growls out, and instead of answering with words you let out a squeal, your hips jerking against him as your eyes roll back in your head.

Adam grins, breathless and feral. “Yeah. Like that, huh? Pretty girl.” The feeling of you cumming on three of his big fingers is enough to drag a long moan out of his chest; you’re so fuckin’ beautiful. “That’s it, doll, ride my fingers—good girl, so fuckin’ needy for me.”

You’re all clingy afterwards, clutching at him; he clutches right back, pressing his face into your shoulder, listening to you breathe. I love you, he thinks. I fuckin’ love you.

When you finally let him press his face between your legs one night, the words echo endlessly in his head. He’s lost in you, in the pressure of your thighs against his ears, your hands clutching at his shaggy hair, the way you clench so sweetly against his tongue. He rubs his face back and forth, smearing your slick all over himself greedily, sliding his nose up and down your clit. You let out an uninhibited, shuddering noise and he smirks, eagerly sucking at your folds.

He lets his eyes flick up to look at you, taking in the softness of your stomach, your heaving tits, the arch of your neck as you toss your head back against the pillows. He can’t see your face like this but he doesn’t fuckin’ care, not when he has the vision of you before him, your soft skin under his palms, the tangy sweetness of you in his mouth.

You cry out his name when you orgasm, your hips bucking against his face and Adam just goes along for the ride, using his hands to ease your frenetic movements. He spells it out with his tongue against your clit as you slowly come back down, blood rushing in his ears.

I - L - O - V - E - Y - O - U.

It’s a warm, early fall night when he fucks you for the first time, slow and deep, the bedroom windows cracked and letting in the nightly noise of the city. He doesn’t hear any of it--hears nothing but you and the sounds your bodies make together. There’s no rushing, no dirty words falling from his lips--there’ll be more than enough time for that later. Right now was about the slick slide of his cock in you, his eyes trained on yours, all wide like he’s surprised by this--shocked that any of its happening. In a way, he is.

Adam reaches out to settle a giant palm on your cheek, holding you, rubbing his nose against yours as he rolls his hips, muscles flexing under his skin as his back arches. He wants closer to you--closer, closer, and closer still--so he shuffles up the bed. It's a little awkward, but he doesn’t care, just as long as he can get deeper. You’ve got your knees hugging his hips, hands grabbing at his shoulder blades, making the prettiest noises in his ear. Adam, you say, and somehow his name has a thousand meanings in this moment. Adam, Adam, Adam.

Hearing it makes his toes curl up, makes him choke out a moan into your neck. “Fuck, I’m--I--” He fumbles for your face, breathing hot and heavy as he mouths over your skin to find your lips, kissing you sloppy to shut himself up. You’re clenching tight around his cock, a hand snuck down to rub quick little circles on your clit as you get close.

He doesn’t watch you as you cum this time, not when you’re pulling his own orgasm out of him, milking him for all he’s worth. He’s drenched in sweat, trembling as he sucks in shaky breaths. No thoughts fill his mind, head completely fuckin’ empty but for the pleasure humming through his veins.

You laugh afterwards, the two of you curled up together, Adam having collapsed to the side in an attempt not to crush you. He gives you a crooked grin of his own, sliding one big palm over your tummy, rubbing it as he slings a massive thigh over your legs. “Good?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he starts to finger your belly button. You bat his hands away, calling him a fucking weirdo even as you lean in to capture his lips with yours. He nips at your bottom lip happily, smoothing his hand over your side, grabbing whatever part of you he can.

“Yeah,” he concedes, “-but I’m the fuckin’ weirdo you have custody of.” You smirk, and then you’re tugging on his shoulders, trying to haul him closer to you. You both need to shower--to clean up, probably drink some water, more than likely change the sheets. But maybe, he thinks to himself as he curls up half on top of you, nuzzling into your cheek--maybe it can wait for just a little longer.

____________________________________

“Fuckin’—ow!”

“Adam, stop moving around—“

“Well stop pulling my fuckin’ hair!”

You sigh at him, crossing your arms over your chest and giving him a hard look in the mirror. Adam pouts, slumping on the stool he was sitting on; he knew he was being whiny but his scalp was fuckin’ sensitive!

“You’re the one who asked me to braid your hair, remember?” You point out, grabbing another elastic from the countertop. “You practically begged me.”

“I didn’t beg.” He huffs, making a face at you. You don’t move, and he chances a look at his watch—fuck, he was gonna be late if this took too much longer. “… Fine, I’m sorry, I’ll sit still. Promise.” He chews on his bottom lip, giving you his best puppy dog eyes; he’s heard they were pretty effective. He’s pleased when you finally step forward, reaching up to comb through his hair again, pulling it out of his face and plaiting it across the top of his head.

He’s landed an actual honest-to-fuck movie role. A little indie film, sure, but it was still another stepping stone in his career. He was beyond excited, was putting his all into it—and, apparently, since his character was a boxer, that meant doing early morning training followed by choreography.

It was fine, really. He was enjoying it, and he liked learning a new sport, liked feeling the burn in different muscles of his body. It wasn’t that he was out of shape, it was just fuckin’ intense. Some days absolutely kicked his ass but he was always eager to come back for more. His trainer, Beth, said she liked that about him. It gave Adam a sense of pride about what he was doing.

It’s just that his damn hair kept getting in the way. It would get all sweaty, sticking all over his skin, flying into his eyes at the most inopportune moments. He’d tried to put it up into a ponytail but that hadn’t lasted long at all. Finally last night, after days of his complaining, you’d told him he just needed to braid it. I don’t know how to do that shit, he’d said, and you’d snorted, and here the two of you were.

“M’gonna be late.” He warns, leg bouncing up and down, jittery. He’d been on time—early, even—to every single session so far, and he didn’t want to break that streak.

“You won’t be late,” you murmur, twisting the tiny elastic around the end of the braid, making him wince just a little—he shuts his eyes against the sting. They have to be tight or they won’t hold, you’d said. Your hands sweep his remaining loose hair behind his ears, combing your fingers through it as you give your work a once over.

“I think they’re okay. They shouldn’t fall apart, at least. No more hair getting in your eyes.” You scratch your nails lightly at the back of his neck, a silent apology for the strain on his scalp, before moving to rub the shells of his ears between your thumbs and forefingers. Adam makes a small, pleased noise at the sensations, leaning back into your chest. He wants to stay here like this, with you, but he knows he can’t.

“How do I look?” He questions, eyes still closed. Your hands slide down the sides of his neck to rest on his shoulders, squeezing gently. He feels when you press a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

“Cute.” You tell him, and he can hear the smile in your voice. “Very pretty.”

He opens his eyes to meet your gaze in the mirror, wrinkling up his nose. “Cute?” You nod, and he shakes his head. “I can’t look fuckin’ cute while I’m boxing!” You just shrug, as if to say ‘well, what am I supposed to do about it?’, and then start putting up your supplies. Adam wants to keep on teasing you, but instead he hauls himself to standing, heading into the living room to grab his boots.

You trail in after him as he’s shoving them on his feet and perch on the edge of the couch to watch him. He speaks as he ties the laces, hyper-aware of the time even though the subway was only a couple minute walk from your apartment. “I shouldn’t be home late. Probably be back before you, even.”

Home. It only half registers that he says it, that he refers to your place as his. He doesn’t have time to worry about it now; besides, you only nod at him, like he hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary. He hops up, heavy feet stomping across the floor as goes to grab his trusty backpack. When he passes you on the way to the front door he drops a gentle kiss to your mouth.

“Thanks for my hair.” He says as he slips his arms through the straps of the bag and proceeds to pat his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed.

“Wait!” You’re crying out suddenly, making him freeze in place, looking at you with wide eyes. He watches you rush over to the fridge, digging in it for a moment or two; he gives his watch another nervous glance.

“Kid, what the hell…?” Adam scratches at the back of his neck, bouncing on his toes, ready to get out the door. When you shut the fridge, you’ve got two tupperware containers and a red gatorade in your hands; you hurry over to him, a small smile on your face.

“Here.” You tug him around with surprising strength, maneuvering him until you can unzip his backpack and put the plastic boxes and drink into the large pocket. “I made you lunch and some snacks. Don’t worry, it’s all protein. I know you always pack water but I wanted you to have more than that.”

Adam whips back around the second he’s allowed, his chest feeling warm and fluttery. He steals another kiss, one large hand on your jaw, nudging his nose against your cheek. Knowing he has to keep it short he pulls away, brushing his thumb over your chin as he does so. He opens his mouth to say something, but doesn’t really know how to express what your actions mean to him. When had you even packed that? Last night, while he was asleep?

You give him a gentle smile, nuzzling your face into his palm. “You better get going. You’ll be late.”

Adam exhales. You always gave him an escape route, and he always fuckin’ took it. “Right, yeah. Okay.” He steps back, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack. “Have a good day.” He yanks open the front door; when you speak again, your words are rushed, clearly not wanting to keep him.

“You too! Oh, can you pick up some bread on your way home?

“What? Oh, bread—yeah, sure—“ He’s stepping through the door, mind already focused on the day ahead. His hand finds the doorknob by muscle memory— “Sounds good, I can do that, love you!”—and the door slams shut behind him. He takes the stairs two at a time, his long strides getting him to the subway station sooner than he thought.

It’s not until he’s two stops down, staring blankly out the window as he stands in the crowded subway car, that he realizes what he’s done. Dread settles in his gut, heavy like lead, and his stomach twists. Fuck. Fuck! How could he have done something so stupid?

He wipes his palms on his gym shorts, feeling like they’re all clammy. He’d said ‘I love you’, tossed it to you like it was nothing. It wasn’t nothing! Fuck, what if you didn’t feel the same way? What if he’d ruined everything—pressured you somehow? Jesus Christ, well, guess it was time for him to leave the country. Or at least, move across town. New York was big enough to hide in, right?

He makes his way to the gym in a daze, his chest feeling all tight with anxiety. Getting into his routine is a struggle, and it frustrates him even more. Beth finally tells him to just have at one of the punching bags for a little bit, which does help loosen him up. Adam thinks it’s a tad ironic that imagining punching himself makes him feel better.

It’s not until he’s lumbering to the bodega to grab the bread you asked for, body aching and sticky with sweat, that he remembers you aren’t supposed to be home yet. He could sneak in undetected, plan an escape, or at least formulate some sort of explanation for his morning mistake. Though, he’s pretty sure saying “it was an accident, like when you were a kid and called your teacher ‘mom’” to his girlfriend wouldn’t bode well.

He knows he’s probably overreacting, but he’s never fuckin’ felt like this about someone before! He thought he’d known what love was; he thought he’d been in love in his past relationships. But he’s always said the words too fast, threw himself head first into the deep end. And yeah, he had loved them, in a way—cared about them, wanted them to care for him, too. But this? The all-encompassing affection and support you gave him? Your acceptance of him? He’s never had this before.

He’s never had someone want him fully as he is. And he wanted you the same way, loved every fuckin’ inch of you. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of you; wants you by his side, forever. He feels so much that it scares him. And the thought of you not feeling the same, of you not wanting what he did—of his confession of love being something one-sided.

Adam was fucking terrified.

But he can’t run away. He knows he can’t. He always did, and always came back when it was far too late—when people were done with him. He won’t do that with you.

So he takes the steps up to your apartment one by one, trudging slowly, the loaf of bread held to his chest as if it would protect him somehow. He fumbles with the key in the lock, finally pushing through the door and kicking it closed behind him. Looking up, he freezes, heart leaping into his throat. There you were, sat on the couch.

“… I thought you’d be at work,” he says after a moment, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He forces his body into movement, numbly going to put the bread on the countertop before setting down his backpack and removing the empty containers from his lunch. He can feel your eyes on him even if he isn’t looking at you; it makes him hunch his shoulders up to his ears.

“I had a meeting get canceled,” you inform him, voice holding on to a certain edge even while your tone is light. There’s silence, Adam trying to pretend like he’s busy in the kitchen even though it’s pretty obvious he isn’t. “Sackler.” There’s that stern-yet-fond tone he loves hearing so much, and it’s impossible for him to ignore you. He chances turning around, giving you what he hopes is a blank look.

“Will you please come here?” You’re practically batting your eyelashes at him at this point, and his brain is telling him that you’re definitely up to something. But then, you’re standing up, and he registers you’re wearing his favorite tiny tank top—and nothing else—and he finds his feet tripping over to you before he can help it.

“Fuck, kid, look at you.” He breathes, hands reaching out greedily to grab at your tits, the softness of your hips, your bare ass. You laugh, pushing him down onto the couch, pressing your hand between his legs as you lean in to kiss him. He groans, bucking his hips up, already impatient. Shit, it would be so easy to just slip down the waistband of his shorts, yank you down onto his cock—

“Thank you for getting the bread,” you murmur against his lips, leaning over him, one knee on the couch. Adam lets out a strangled sort of laugh.

“This is because I got bread?” he asks, incredulous. You nod, and he still doesn’t believe you, but fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re pulling his hand between your thighs and his fingers are delving on instinct. You’re wet. Wetter than you normally are starting out like this. He swallows hard as he finds your entrance, as three of his thick fingers slip in easily.

“Fuuuuuhhck,” he groans, dark eyes flicking up to meet your gaze, “-you dirty fuckin’ girl. Did you get yourself all ready for me? Too eager for my big cock to wait?” He can’t help the grin that spreads across his face as you whine, your hands tugging insistently at his shorts. He’s quick to help you pull them down along with his briefs, the both of you scrambling to be connected.

The second you slide down onto his cock he’s throwing his head back, thighs straining as he tries not to thrust into you with abandon. “Always so fuckin’ good,” he bites out, jaw clenched and voice all gravelly. His hands find your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he prepares to guide you at a punishing pace.

But then one of your hands is finding his face, angling him to look at you while your other hand balls itself in his shirt—and fuck, he hadn’t even had time to get his shirt off yet.

“Adam,” you say, all breathless, clenching around his cock in a way that has him grunting in response, almost fuckin’ shaking with need. You say his name again as you tug on his shirt, pulling the fabric up his chest. He reluctantly lets go of your hips in order to help get the offending garment off his torso, but then he’s right back to you, hands squeezing your ass.

“C’mon, baby, need you to move. Need to feel this tight fuckin’ pussy riding me.” His voice is little more than a growl, and he pulls you in to crash his lips to yours before you can respond. He’s overwhelmed, needy, previous anxiety forgotten—he forgot most things when you were so tight and warm and wet around him.

He plants his boot covered feet on the ground and thrusts upwards, a broken moan leaving his chest as you gasp into his mouth. You plant your hands on his shoulders and he thinks finally, you’re going to give him what he so badly needs. But then you’re pulling away from him, settling into his lap like you had all the time in the world, a little smirk on your face.

“We need to talk, Adam.”

He stares at you, gobsmacked; his cock does a little twitch inside of you, like it’s as confused as he is. “Talk? Now?” You nod, resolute, and Adam let’s out a long, hot breath through his nose. “What,” he bites out, palms kneading your ass; he thinks maybe his eye twitches, “—do we need to talk about?”

“Did you mean it this morning?” Your voice is all quiet as you run your fingertips over his french braids, then down to curl his loose hair behind his ears. “When you said you loved me?”

Adam’s mind—so singularly focused on fucking you—grinds to a complete halt. He gapes at you, unable to come up with any sort of excuse, any sort of witty counter to your question. It’s then that he realizes what you’ve done, you little fuckin’ minx—you’ve weaponized sex against him!

You fuckin’ knew he wouldn’t be able to think like this. Maybe he should be mad, but he knows--he knows this is exactly what he needs. So he closes his mouth, swallowing hard and sliding his hands from your ass to the small of your back, holding you close.

“Yes.” It’s shaky, falling from his lips. He tries to make his voice more firm. “I love you.” And then, just to double down on it: “I’m so in love with you it scares the shit outta me. I love fuckin’—everything about you. I never wanna love anyone else ever again, not if it's not you.”

His heart is beating wild in his chest, and the pervy little part of his brain wonders if you can feel it through his dick. You lean in and kiss him all slow, squeezing your perfect fuckin’ pussy around him, and his hands move further up your back to pull you into him. He feels unsteady, like he’s jumped off a precipice into the unknown. He’s dizzy with the relief of his confession, with the worry of your reaction even as you kiss him, with the feeling of such a tight, slick, heat around his cock.

“I love you, too.”

He almost misses it with the way you murmur it into the corner of his mouth and with his head spinning from overstimulation. He blinks at you, giving you those big brown eyes and his jaw works as his mind catches up to speed. You smile, dropping more kisses over his strong features, then laugh when he finally yanks his head back to stare at you, his breath catching in his chest.

“You love me.” It’s not a question, but more of a confirmation; him reassuring himself that what he’d heard was real. You nod, hands smoothing over his broad shoulders, down his biceps. His eyes search yours as his hips shift underneath you, making you sigh happily. Something in him snaps.

He re-positions his feet on the floor, one of his hands gripping your hip and the other wrapped around the back of your neck. Your eyes widen, and you have a split second to balance yourself against his chest before he’s snapping his hips up, fucking into you at a frantic pace. The gasp you make is music to his fuckin’ ears.

“Say it again.” He growls at you, gaze drifting over your body, watching the way your tits bounce with his thrusts. “Say it.”

“I love you.”

Your words make him moan, and he doesn’t care how ridiculous he sounds. “Again,” he demands, voice ragged, and you obey—you say it over and over again until his mind is filled with it, the words a soothing balm for all his insecurities. You cry out, trembling in his lap, his cock deep inside you, and Adam is overcome.

He holds you there, the hand on your neck moving between your legs to rub quick circles on your clit. “I fuckin’ love you too, goddamn, this tight little pussy. You gonna cum for me? Cum all over my big fuckin’ cock?” He’s panting, staring you down, not letting you look away. “Fuckin’—say it when you cum. Please—please.”

You nod quickly, mouth hanging open, squirming so deliciously on his cock as your cunt gets tighter and tighter around him. He isn’t sure he’s even breathing, fingers moving desperately as you sob out his name, hips jerking in his lap. Your hands clutch at him, fingers raking at his chest as you chant I love you, I love you, the words all broken by your cries and whines. It’s fuckin’ beautiful.

“Fuuuuhhhhck.” Adam groans between gritted teeth, eyes rolling back in his head as your pussy squeezes his cock like it’s trying to milk him, like it’s begging for all his fuckin’ cum. He lets out loud, feral, shuddering breaths, trying to hold back—he isn’t done with you yet. “Oh, you feel so fuckin’ good, jeeeezus.” His words sound all strangled, and he has just the smallest bit of sense to wrap his arms around you when you slump into his chest.

Your breaths are short little pants against his neck, and he closes his eyes, savoring the feeling of them—of you in general, the weight of you on top of him, your sticky skin against his, your body heat. “I love you.” He croaks out, saying it again just because he can. You hum in response, nuzzling your face closer; it makes him smile.

He trails the pads of his fingers down your spine and then back up, feeling the texture of your skin. You were his. His to touch, to kiss, to hold, to love.

He was yours.

It’s a heady, hopeful thought that tastes like the future.

______________________________________________________________

taglist friends!

@leatherboundbirate @fathersonandhouseofgucci @direnightshade @paper-n-ashes @glassbxttless @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @peachyproserpina @jynzandtonic @hopeamarsu @mariesackler @millenialcatlady @sacklerscumrag @cornmousequeen @eagerforhoney @icarusinthesea @heartofjakku

#adam sackler x female reader #adam sackler x afab!reader #adam sackler x fem!reader #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler #adam sackler fic #adam sacklet smut #adcu fic #adcu fic exchange #tori writes #feedback always welcome & appreciated!

231 notes · View notes

aconstantstateofbladerunner · 3 years

Text

The Glitch

I get the Broken Reality au is a haha funny joke but there’s been some legit great art for it and since Butterfly is over and I haven’t gotten into the groove of my other projects yet, I decided to try some flash fiction of my interpretations. Note that this is very small and informal; I used whatever idea came into my head over the course of an hour or so instead of the weeks of planning that go into my usual fics. This was an experiment for fun. But if people enjoy the concept, I may be tempted to expand on it.

Credit to @lollitree @moonpaw @gentrychild @owlf45 and @cyber-phobia (I’m sorry if I missed someone I lost track of how many people were involved in this mess).

Content working for reference to infant death.

Please enjoy!

The city shut down for a typhoon warning. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Dark clouds blocked the sun so much that by mid-morning it still looked like it never bothered coming up. And yet the humidity made it too hot for coffee. Inko didn’t know how to feel. Work would have been a good distraction. But she didn’t want any coworkers or clients to see if today got to be too much. And it was already shaping up to be. She caught herself making two plates of food for breakfast.

Inko sat alone in the kitchen. ��She couldn’t bring herself to finish her own plate. Sickness set in fast. The food had been cold for a long time before she summoned the strength to get up and throw it away. Then she stood over the open trash can a while, debating whether to try and hold it together, or just throw up and get it over with. She eventually managed to keep her stomach steady enough to go back to her bedroom. There was another trashcan in there anyway.

A sound stopped her. From her office. The distinct sound of something heavy falling onto the carpet. Right as she walked past the door.

Please not this again…

She opened the door with her eyes closed. Her mind conjured a familiar image. A bedroom full of books and hero posters. Bright colors and personal touches. A child’s room. Inko opened her eyes to her drab home office. Some of the older case file binders slipped off the pile again. She really needed to sort those into storage. Not today though. She didn’t bother to pick it up.

Inko walked faster than normal the rest of the way to her room. She doesn’t want to face the temptation to search for old toys she remembers storing in the empty closet. Or search the walls for scuff marks from action figures tossed into them she could always see even after the walls were painted. She hid her planner on a tall shelf and put the ladder away to make it that much harder to go through it over and over looking for doctors’ appointments and school events she knew were coming up. Finally reaching her bed brought no comfort.

Of course she knew today’s date by heart. She hadn’t put it on a calendar in the fourteen years since she used to look at it every day. Inko stuck her head under her pillows, as if they could block out the silent noise of her memories. Memories of before, the time even when she was by herself, she was never alone.

Fifteen years now, today. With a shuddering gasp, the tears finally came. Thunder crashed outside. It’s not fair! Why is it still this hard after this long? Phantom kicks in her belly joined the growing ice there.

The hardest part was she still felt like that sometimes. Like she wasn’t really alone. Inko didn’t believe in ghosts, but the lost of what could have been was more than haunting enough. She felt it watching her. Judging her. Waiting just long enough for her to settle down into a peaceful, content existence before it reared up to plague her heart all over again. Cliché hauntings like spooky faces in the mirror or blood coming out of the drains would have been preferable. Those would be generic enough not to remind her directly.

Rain started outside. Her phone lit up with a notification she ignored in time with a thunderclap. The storm was getting closer.

Maybe I should call Hisashi, the thought crossed her mind. Maybe he’s going through this too. She bit her lip bloody. Her frustrated memories weren’t in question like the others. Probably not though. I don’t want to talk to him anyway.

Hisashi had been stuck in the denial stage of grief, which often came off as him acting like he didn’t take hers seriously. Not a year, not even half a year looking back, after they came home from the hospital, he wanted to try again.

“We can’t let mourning hold us up forever,” he said. “And it’s not like we lost a once in a lifetime opportunity! We’ve got at least another twenty years to keep trying!”

But we did lose him! she had wanted to scream. Still did, years later. Why didn’t he understand? He was your loss too! Inko wanted for the next roll of thunder, then shouted.

“I don’t just want any baby! I want Izuku!”

The lights went out. The temperature rose five degrees instantly when the ceiling fan stopped going. The rain stopped.

Power outage. Inko sat up with a sniffle. Turns out the notification was a warning about roving blackouts. Of course. Oh well. I wasn’t really in the mood to cook tonight any-

Thunder boomed even louder than before, making her jump. Then another. Lightning flashed outside at the same time. It was right on top of her.

What? I thought the typhoon wasn’t supposed to make landfall until later toni-

Another crash. It vibrated through her bones. Then another. The lightning lit up her whole room. Except for a shadow on the wall. Inko jolted to look, holding her breath, and found only her own shadow in the next flash.

“I’m such an idiot…” She went for her phone again. For peace of mind, she decided to use her data to check if an evacuation order went out. Or any updates at all really, since the weather came so much faster than the news said. “Nothing,” she sighed annoyed. “I hate being alone for weather like this…”

A new notification pinged.

[Mom]

Inko blinked rapidly. The message remained. All of her insides turned inside out in an instant, and she started crying again. Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke? No one ever got a chance to call her that. She touched the note to open it, but nothing happened. No app or source was displayed. Nor did it go away after a few seconds like normal.

“Wha- What’s going on?” she wept. In a mix of sorrow and rage, she wound up to chunk the device across the room. But she froze.

Outside her window, floating against the pitch-black sky, were two small orbs. Perfectly circular and glowing. Watching her. She didn’t dare move.

Another ping. She looked without moving.

[I’m sorry]

“… What?”

For a moment, all the sounds in the world dropped out. They all came back at ounce.

Lights flickered. Both the ones inside and the lightning going outside. Multiple strikes laid on top of one another. No relief. Thunder pounded over and over like a drum solo. It shook the whole building. Inko ran into the closet away from the window. She slammed her hands over her eyes but it didn’t help. Her terrified cried were whispers to the screams of the storm.

A child’s scream. She heard it. Each flash of light came with a cry. The distinct sound of a little boy calling out in pain blended with unyielding nature. It came from every direction. Every hair on Inko’s arms stood up in fear. She felt the charge in the air. But she had to go out. Her baby was crying for help.

She burst from the closet into the living room. All the lights and appliances turned themselves on and off. The TV showed only static between its flashes. Something drew her too it. The storm was deafening. It pounded through her head like a heartbeat. The beats got faster. The static flashes started to look like a face. Her usual caution was abandoned as she fell to her knees and touched the screen. The snow cleared for a single instant. Just long enough to look like the blank eyes from the window. She felt the heartbeat there too.

Then it stopped. All of it. The noise and lights all went quiet and dark. The TV went completely cold in an instant. Inko, stunned, palmed over it looking for something. Anything. The pulse. Warmth. A burnt fuse or faulty wire. But nothing. The rain started again.

She pulled her hands back to her lap. Her heart was still racing and tears kept flowing down under her chin. She looked around. Everything in the living room and kitchen looked the same. No sign of the earthquake-like convolutions the whole appartement experienced only minutes ago. Inko combed the entire space for evidence. An object knocked off the shelf. A picture frame fallen from the wall. The notifications. Toys in the closet or scuffs in the wall. Still not a sign. She even stepped outside her door to check the sky. Only light rain and shattered thunder, just like the news said the day before.

There was only one thing out of place. Back in her bedroom, the bottom drawer of her nightstand hung open. Inko had to steal herself before approaching it. There were only two things in there: a little green blanket, and a picture of the ultrasound. The most recent one from her last appointment. The doctor said he was doing fine.

“Izuku…” she whispered to it in her hand.

She remembered the squealing little bundling being put in her arms for the first time. The first time he smiled at her. Teaching him to walk, then immediately launching into play. Him coming home with bruises and scrapes after the kids at school were mean to him, and crying in her arms. Then, him coming home with his first real friends in a long time. She made them all dinner. Katsudon. That was Izuku’s favorite.

Only she didn’t remember. The same way she didn’t really remember the toys and scuffs. Those were fantasies. Daydreams of what could have been. She just thought about them so often they felt like memories. Especially today. It was his birthday after all. They’d fade back into vague dreams by tomorrow. They always did.

And she would be left with reality. The silence. The cold, still little hand between her fingers. Soft cheeks without blush. Eyes that never opened. Clutching him too tight to her chest, knowing the second she let go he would be gone for real and it would all be over.

But it was never over. Inko went through this same torturous song and dance every year for fifteen now. All the guilt and dread would subside slowly over the next one, until it all came back at once. Just like this.

At least it’s done for now, she tried to reassure herself, climbing back into bed. It still wasn’t even noon yet. Plenty of time for another breakdown. Hopefully the next one won’t be, feel, as loud. She sighed heavily into her sheets. This sort of thing can’t be normal. I should really try therapy again.

Against her better judgement, she kept the blanket out, and clutched it to her chest. Static electricity pricked her fingers. With her other hand, she reached across the bed, and tried to imagine someone else there. Not Hisashi, never him anymore. Izuku. He was fifteen and happy, but the storm was making him nervous so he came to lay beside her. She remembered it like it was now. If she closed her eyes, she could feel his warm, soft skin, with a healthy, if a little anxious heartbeat just underneath. The mattress warped as he sighed.

“We’ll be okay. It’s just a little rough weather,” she promised.

“Okay, Mom,” Izuku answered quietly. “… I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” I’ll start trying to get myself together tomorrow. For now, let me have this.

Izuku didn’t respond for a while. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Happy birthday.”

#midoriya inko #midoriya izuku #broken reality au #the glitch #mha #bnha #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #aconstantstateoffanfiction #april fools #the long con

344 notes · View notes

mercur1e · 3 years

Note

Saw your Father’s Day post and I knew I had to ask for it:

Dilf!Jean x Teacher!Black reader fic

I’ll let you pick whether it’s sfw or nsfw, I just need some Jean content rn😌

YES OML

Contains: Modern AU, female anatomy but no pronouns

Jean has had his eye on you for a while now. You're his kid's teacher, he know he shouldn't be feeling this way. But he can't help it. You're so kind and beautiful. You're great with the kids, and always patient with them. And god, your smile. That pretty, pretty smile. When he dropped Julia off at the first day of school, you had smiled and introduced yourself. Nothing unusual, it's just common courtesy. So why was he acting like a teenager in love all over again? He brushed it off thinking it was just because he hasn't dated in a while. Ever since his divorce he hasn't really been interested in dating.

Everytime Jean would pick up his child he made small talk with you. About his daughter, about your jobs, anything that would get you to talk to him. Jean would subtly compliment you, telling you that you look pretty or that a color looks good on you. Hell, he pointed out when you changed your hair up for a day, even if it wasnt anything major. Every once in a while he would lightly flirt with you, questioning how you're single and asking if you have a s/o. You'd always reply that you haven't been interested in anyone around here.

And it wasn't one sided, no. You'd glance at him when (you thought) he wasn't looking, looking as handsome as ever. His slicked back hair and style would make anyone swoon. A million dollar smile, great personality, and he was a good father? You wanted to be with him, you really did. But as a teacher you know you shouldn't. But the school year is almost out, you wish he would make a move.

Today was just like any other day, Jean came to pick up his kid and he was making small talk with you. Talking to you about your plans for the summer, and where you would like to go. Meanwhile Jean was was worrying about how to ask you out. "Do I just say it? Do I slip it in? Shit. Fuck it I'll just say it."

As you were talking about your summer plans, Jean interrupted you. "I..I was wondering if I can take you out on a date? If not I'm sorry that-"

"I've been waiting for you to say that." A smile forms on your lips. "I thought I'd become a corspe before you asked me out!" You poke in a joking manner.

Jean chuckled at you. "Well how about as an apology for making you wait so long, I take you out to dinner tonight?" He says while smiling at you. God, he's got a nice smile.

"I would love that. Is 7 o'clock good for you?" You ask Jean while writing your number on a slip of paper and handing it to him.

"Works for me. It won't be hard finding a babysitter for Julia for the night. I'll see you then sweetheart."

The rest of the school day went by fast. Happy to be home, you search through you closet to find something to wear. After digging in your closet you found your perfect outfit. Putting it on and standing infront the mirror you looked damn good in it. Going into the bathroom to finish up your hair and getting the look you wanted, you were almost done. Now you just had to find the right fragrance and any other additions. And with that, you were ready for your date. Hearing a knock on your door, you go to answer it.

You're met with Jean, looking as handsome as ever. He has on a dress shirt with some slacks, paired with a nice watch and shoes. Eyeing you up and down, he shoots you a smirk.

"You look amazing."

"And you look handsome, which is a shocker for you." You play, he knows he looks even on his worst days.

Jean guffawed at your comment. "Uh huh, like I don't notice you checking me out almost everyday at school."

Locking your door behind you, you two begin walking towards his car. "Guess I'm not as sneaky as I thought."

"Nope, you're shit and trying to be sneaky."

"Oh shut up!" You giggled as you slapped his arm lightly. He opens the car door for you and you get in.

"So, where are we going?" You ask once he gets in the car.

"It's a surprise, but I think you'll like it when we get there."

As he was driving, you two talked and joked together. It wasn't a very long ride, maybe about 15-20 minutes until you arrived to the destination. It was a popular steakhouse that had recently opened up, and it wasn't cheap either.

"I've always wanted to go here, I've heard good things about this place." Looking around the parking lot, you could tell it wasn't a super busy night but they had business, that's good.

"Me too. I've heard good things about the place and its owned by a local chef." Holding out his hand to you, you take it as you're getting out of the car. To his pleasant surprise, you hold on to his hand until you two are seated at the table he reserved. The rest of the date went wonderfully, you both thoroughly enjoyed dinner and had fun getting to know each other more. And of course taking playful jabs at each other and eating dessert.

Pulling up in front of your house, Jean helps you out the car and walks you to your front door.

"I really enjoyed tonight, I loved every bit of it. Thank you for treating me to dinner."

"Of course." Jean replies, secretly hoping you'd you'd kiss him.

You two sat in silence for a few minutes until you looked him in the eye. His eyes were shining, hoping that you'd make a move. Finally, you broke the silence.

"Can I kiss you-" You didn't even finish your sentence before his lips landed on yours. He pulled back though, the kiss ending as quick as it started. You kissed him again. And again, until it turned into a full blown makeout session. "Do you want to go inside?" You asked once you finally caught your breath. Jean nodded at you, eyes now clouded with need. Opening your door, you barely have time to register what happened. Jean's got you pressed against your door, lips back on yours. Running your hands through his hair you let his tongue roam your mouth. He sucks on your tongue while trying to take your clothes off. "Mm, not here, my bedroom." While hurrying towards your bedroom, articles of clothing litter your hallway as you both rush to take off your clothes. After you get into the bedroom Jean motions for you to lay on the bed.

Laying between your legs, he leaves kisses on your navel and thighs, avoiding where you need him the most. Taking a long finger and swiping up your slit, he feels just how wet you are for him.

"Fuck, I've been waiting to do this for so long."

You hum in agreement. "Me too, I've wanted you for so long"

Licking a stripe up your pussy, you shiver under him. He kitten licks your clit before sticking a long finger into you. Your vagina clenches around the digit, adjusting to it after a minute.

"Another" you mewl, wanting more of him. He listens, putting his index finger in. He moves his fingers in a scissoring motion, loving the way you feel around him. His fingers are coated with your juices, creating a wet sound every time he thrusted them into you. Sucking on your clit, you moan and twitch under him. He speeds his fingers up, and starts sucking at your clit more harshly.

"Ah! Ah! M' gonna cum!"

"That's right, come for me baby. Cum all over my fingers."

Your body shivers from your orgasm as your hole convulses around Jean's fingers, creaming around him. He takes his fingers out of you, and you whine at the loss. He takes his fingers up to his mouth and sucks on them.

"You tatse so good baby. So good for me. Can't wait to have you screaming for me."

He looks so hot like this. Hair disheveled and out of place, lust filled eyes just waiting to devour you. He takes his dick and strokes it a few times before pushing your legs against your chest. He lines himself up at your entrance, and slowly pushes in. It stings at first, he's so big. You already feel full, before you look down and see that you've only taken half of him. Jean slowly eases the rest of himself into you, before he's finally buried to the hilt. You swear you can feel him in your throat.

"Y-you can move baby, I can take it."

Jean smirks at you. "You sure?"

"Mhm..keep going."

Once Jean knew you were okay he started roughly thrusting into you. Leaning down to suck at your nipples, your hand grabbed at his hair. Tugging lightly at it, you wrangled a low groan out of the man above you. He can tell you're close because your moans are getting louder and he can feel you tightening around his dick.

"You gonna cum for me baby? Want me to fill you up?"

"Mm Mhm!"

"Say it."

"Cum in my Jean, please!"

He smirked. "Anything you want baby."

Slamming his hips into you, Jean's abusing your poor g-spot at this point. He flips you over so you're face down ass up and you can tell he's close too by the way his dick is twitching inside of you.

"Fuck! Fuck! I'm cummimg, I'm cumming-"

"That's it baby, come all over me."

Jean doesn't let up even after you've come. Your overstimulated pussy fills the room with sloppy noises. Jean gives a few more rough thrusts before coming inside of you. You both simultaneously groan out, you feel even fuller than before. He pulls out of you, feeling a sense of pride as he watches some of his cum drip out of your pussy.

Rolling over onto your back, you gaze up at Jean. A fucked out grin makes its way onto your face. Jean smiles back down at you before he lays down onto your chest.

"Is it selfish if I say I don't want this to end?" He mumbles in between the valley of your breats.

"Mm no. Because I don't want it to end either. I really like you Jean, I mean it." Your hand runs through his hair, its original style long gone.

"I really like you too, you think we could make something outta this? Maybe even a relationship?"

You giggle. "Is this your way of asking me to be your s/o?"

"Yeah...pretty shitty way huh?" Jean let's out a small laugh.

"Hmm yes, but I accept. I'll be your s/o."

"Guess it's not stupid if it works hm?" Jean leans up to plant a kiss against your lips.

"Oh shut up you!"

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE THIS DONE YESTERDAY BUT I FEEL ASLEEP! Anyways I hoped you liked it! Thank you for requesting and feedback is appreciated!! Have a good day! <33

This is my original work. Do not steal, repost, or copy my works. All works on this belong to @c00chi

#jean kirschtein smut #aot x black!reader #aot x poc!reader #aot x reader #jean kirsten x reader #jean kirstein x black reader #jean kirstein x poc!reader #jean kirsten smut

180 notes · View notes

high-functioning-lokipath · 3 years

Text

Prompt: "I'll Be Here To Protect You" - Loki x Reader - Words: 2,564

A/N: This sort of follows the oneshot "Worthy" but can be read alone. Basically, Reader is Silver Shadow (see Marvel character list for reference), Loki and Reader are married, yada yada, you'll see…

"Silver? I think you should take a look at this," Cap said over the comms. You, Cap, Loki, and Widow had gone to investigate a Hydra base you'd received intel on. You'd been informed that the base was abandoned but that they still had some records stored there.

"On my way," You replied to the Captain, teleporting over immediately. "Oh my goodness," You gasped at the sight that greeted you. There, lying curled up in a small cage, was a girl no older than 5 or 6. Cap ripped open the cage and gently pulled her out, holding her in his arms. She whimpered slightly and you could tell she'd been beaten. Instantly, you wanted to kill the people who'd done that to her.

"Can you help her?" He whispered, not wanting to startle her any more. You nodded and held out your arms to take her. As soon as you touched her, you started working.

"You might need to hold me up," You warned the Captain. "This is going to be tiring."

"Alright," He nodded. "Then let's get you out of here." He easily lifted you both and carried you out to the quinjet. You vaguely heard him talking on the comms but were a bit too focused to actually make out his words. He set you down on one of the chairs with the girl curled up in your lap. After a while, before the others got back, she seemed to be healed and sleeping. You were exhausted so you adjusted yourself slightly in the chair and dozed off as well.

"Y/N?" You turned your head, eyes still refusing to open with exhaustion, and groaned slightly feeling the kink in your neck from sleeping weird. "Y/N! Please wake up, hm? Please?" Someone said. Now they were poking your arm. Your other arm however seemed to be asleep, as you couldn't feel it, and you had a weight on your legs and chest. Suddenly remembering what all had transpired, your eyes shot open. "See? I told you she would wake up if I did that!" Natasha said, with what you knew to be false happiness, to the girl on your lap. The girl simply glared back at Nat before turning her attention to you, with a completely different expression. Her eyes widened and she tried smiling as though she was out of practice and waved slightly.

"Hi there," You smiled. "My name's Y/N. What's yours?" She frowned and looked away before mumbling something. "Hm? I couldn't hear you," You said.

"Helius," She replied with a frown.

"Oh," You replied. "Well, do you like that name?" She shook her head vigorously. "Would you like a new name? One just as pretty as you?"

"Really?" She asked, eyes lighting up once more.

"Yep! And then you'll have a special name for yourself! Just like I do, and just like Natasha," You said pointing at the redhead. "And-" You were about to point to your husband when you realized for the first time since waking back up that he wasn't with the team anymore. Your eyes darted back to Nat who looked worried.

"Y/N?" The little girl said quietly, pulling on your sleeve.

"What is it, dear?" She whispered in it in your ear and you nodded. "Oh yes, um. The bathroom's right over here." You took her over and opened the door.

"I get to use that?" She asked, surprised.

"Yes," You replied slowly.

"Wow! You're really nice!" She hurried inside and closed the door herself. You stood there for a moment, shocked, and Nat walked up behind you.

"She's not even accustomed to using a normal bathroom, Nat!"

"Those people, if they even should be called that," she said, shaking her head. "Are monsters." You looked around once more, trying to see if Loki had shown back up. "He's up with Steve," She said, pointing to the cockpit.

"What? Why? He's willingly spending time with the Captain?" You said teasing.

"He said he needed to think."

"Did he give any clues?"

"Not verbally. But I think he's nervous."

"About what?" You exclaimed. She nodded towards the bathroom door.

"Being a Dad."

"A Da-" you interrupted yourself, chuckling lightly. "You think just because we found her means we'll be her parents?" Nat smirked and nodded. "First of all, Tony will probably have a cow if we wanted to keep her."

"Well your husband had a horse, may I remind you."

"That was a made up story! Would you please stop referencing it!" You shrieked.

"Only when it stops being funny," She laughed.

"Second, there's probably already some rule in place that states we need to put her in the custody of Child Protective Services."

"We'll see about that."

"She's yours!" Tony said 2 hours later once you'd arrived home and gone straight to a conference room to meet with him.

"What?" You exclaimed. You hadn't even had the chance to talk with Loki yet. You glanced outside the room at the girl sitting in the hallway. The whole team was there with you but Loki had still not said a word. You looked at him but he refused to make eye contact and you couldn't read his expression. "Don't get me wrong, Tony. She's wonderful and I think she deserves the world but why?"

"You found her! Who knows if she has powers? It's best to have one of our own caring for her just in case. And besides, according to Romanoff's story, the girl practically glared daggers into anyone else who came her way."

"Alright I guess. I mean," You sighed. "Loki? Darling? Um, what do you think?"

"You've already made the decision, Stark. I will respect that and allow my wife to make the necessary changes to our living quarters to care for the child. Now is there anything else you'll be needing at the moment? I need a shower."

"Uh, no. It's-we're done," Tony said, seeming surprised at Loki's attitude just as you were. You all started to head out but Tony stopped you for a moment. "Here," He said, handing you a credit card. "Buy whatever you want for her." You smiled and shook your head.

"What do you know? The man of iron does have a heart."

"Yeah but don't tell anyone," He chuckled.

About a week later, Helius was in her new bedroom, thoroughly showered in gifts from Tony, but still not talking to anyone. Neither was Loki for that matter. You yourself were exhausted, staying up late nights keeping the girl company when she woke up screaming from nightmares. When you eventually came back to bed, you often found your husband had gotten up already and disappeared somewhere to 'be alone'. With Helius, you offered her a few ideas for a new name but she didn't like any of them. You even told her some ideas the others had suggested but she hated those even more. You seemed to be the only one she was comfortable with. With Loki, you'd tried to talk to him, even calling and texting him but he wouldn't answer. Today, though, you decided you needed to do something about both of them or else you were probably going to go crazy. First, though, you had some formal paperwork to take care of with Tony in order to have legal guardianship of her.

"I don't know what to do about it, Stank," You sighed, hours later. Tony wrinkled his nose slightly at the nickname but listened. "Half of this I honestly still can't fill out for you because she won't pick a name. I don't know how to make her socialize and I sure don't know how to get Loki to spill what's bugging him." Tony got up and walked to your side, putting his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm not sure what to tell you either, Shiny."

"Watch it," You hissed, whipping out a knife you always kept on your person and holding it dangerously close to his baby-maker. He backed away quickly.

"Maybe you just need to corner your husband and, uh, pull that trick on him," He chuckled nervously. "Ok, well, um, just hold onto that paperwork and send it to me when it's done, alright?" You nodded and gathered it together before heading back to your floor. It was early afternoon and you thought you may have a shot at talking to your husband while Helius took her nap. She'd found her own little routine to keep her occupied during the day in her room even when you weren't there. But you always had to be home when she slept because of her nightmares and she refused to socialize with others.

"I'll be in the bedroom until dinner is ready," Loki said upon your return.

"Can we please talk first?" You asked.

"There's nothing to discuss," He replied, quickly walking to the bedroom and slamming the door.

"Oh yes there is!" You exclaimed, teleporting yourself inside the bedroom.

"I hate when you do that!" He yelled.

"Well I hate when you do this! Now man up and tell me what's wrong or I really will back you in a corner with my knife!"

"I don't want to talk about it, alright?" He hissed. "Now keep your voice down or else you'll alert the child that we're having a disagreement."

"Oh, so you're finally acknowledging her?" A guilty expression flashed over his face and he turned away. "What is it, Loki?" You pleaded. "I don't want to argue. I just want to know what's going through your mind. Ever since we found her, you've been-"

"You found her," He said. "I want no part in raising a child that is not my own."

"What about your own blood?" You asked, wondering for your own future if he was against kids in general or not.

"I-" He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. But I certainly don't want to adopt. I've never seen a good result of adoption."

"Oh," You said slowly. "So that's what this is about."

"What do you mean?"

"You're worried about your own background. Is that it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," He huffed, crossing his arms and further distancing himself from you.

"Loki, please. Listen to me. You may not have had the best family situation yourself, but that doesn't mean you won't be a great Dad. I think-no-I know you'd do wonderfully! Please believe me!"

"I-"

"Mommy!" A voice called out, sounding frightened. Your eyes and Loki's widened in surprise. She'd never called you that before.

"I had better check on her," You sighed. Loki nodded and you rushed off. Half an hour later you came out of her room to find Loki waiting for you on the couch.

"What happened?"

"More nightmares," You groaned and slumped down next to him.

"Is that why you're never in bed anymore?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah. It seems she can't go more than half an hour without having another one." He nodded silently and took your hand in his.

"Well, I suppose I should commend you for your sacrifices for her. I just don't know if I can-" You shushed him, pressing a finger to his lips.

"I understand, Loki," You smiled sadly. "Mind you, I don't exactly agree. But I respect how you feel. I guess I can talk with Tony tomorrow about finding her a new home." You got up quickly, to hide your own emotions from him, and went to prepare dinner. That night, Loki made you go to bed extra early so you could actually get some sleep. You appreciated it, but your internal clock had gotten so used to it already that it woke you up a few hours later about the time Helius would be having her first nightmare. When you didn't hear anything from her room, you got worried. You rushed out of your bedroom and, as you approached her room, heard voices.

"Where's mommy?" Helius cried, again sounding frightened. Drawing your knife outside her closed door, you were ready to teleport in a surprise whatever intruder was there.

"She's sleeping, sweetheart. Do you think your new Dad could help you?" You nearly cried at hearing Loki's voice so soft and gentle with her. It took you a few more seconds to process that he'd referred to himself as her 'Dad'.

"I thought you hated me," She whispered.

"I don't hate you, little one," He assured her. "Do you want to know why I haven't talked to you yet?" You didn't hear a reply but as Loki went on you could only assume she nodded. "I never had a good father. And when you came along a week ago, I was so worried that if I tried to be your father I would mess something up. And I couldn't let that happen because you are too wonderful and too beautiful."

"I don't have a beautiful name," she sighed.

"Hasn't mommy come up with any good ideas?" He asked.

"No, well, yes but I didn't like any of them. They're pretty but," she trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"May I suggest one of my personal favorites?" You cracked the door open just a little so you could see. Their backs were to you, sitting on the edge of the bed. Loki had his arm wrapped around her as she curled onto his side, dwarfed by his height even sitting. She nodded slowly in reply to his question. "How about Arabella?"

"I love it!" She exclaimed, standing quickly and jumping up and down. "Thank you, Dad," She said smiling brightly as she threw her arms around his neck for a hug. He was surprised but gladly gave her a somewhat awkward hug back. "But what if the monsters come back?" She asked, voice trembling slightly.

"I'll protect you."

"Always?"

"I, Loki of Asgard, hereby make a promise to you, Arabella, my daughter. I'll be here to protect you forever and always." Arabella hugged him again and started crying. "Why are you crying, my dear?"

"Because you're the most bestest Dad I could ever ask for."

"Well, I, uh, thank you," He stuttered, not used to that kind of compliment. "I've got an idea. How about tomorrow morning I introduce you to some of the others here?"

"Why? I don't wanna!" You bit back a chuckle at her childish exclamation.

"But they're all really nice and they'll be like your new Aunts and Uncles!"

"Well, maybe," She conceded.

"Good! Now why don't you go back to sleep and I'll stay right here until all the monsters go away for tonight." She nodded and gave him another hug before allowing him to tuck her in. You smiled, wiping away your own tears, and snuck back to your bedroom. A couple hours later, Loki snuck back in himself.

"So how's the bestest Dad doing?" You whispered. Loki tensed up when you said that.

"So you heard us?" He said. You got up and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind.

"Yep," you said. "And I couldn't be happier. You really mean it? This means I don't have to talk to Tony tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not!" He replied grinning.

"Well then I have some very exciting news for you." He turned around, quirking his eyebrows questioningly. "How would you like to be a father to two?"

#loki #loki oneshot #loki imagine #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki x oc #silver shadow #marvel #avengers

258 notes · View notes

fandom-puff · 3 years

Text

Manhunt

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Requested by: anon ‘Hey, I saw that your requests are open. Can I request a Tommy Shelby fic where y/n gets kidnapped, please? Maybe Tommy’s getting extremely angry and worried and only calms down when he gets her back. Of course it’s up to you. Female reader if possible. Thank you so much :)’

Warnings: kidnapping, violence, swearing, injury (result of knife, beatings)

Bold italics = flashback

Gif creds to owner

“Where the fuck’ve you been?” Polly demanded from her desk, arms folded and lips pursed as Tommy stumbled through the door.

“Ah, let him be, Pol,” Arthur grinned, clapping him on the back. “Reckon his head’s still on his honeymoon. Been stuck in bed with the missus all morning, eh, brother?”

Tommy smirked boyishly. “No. Fuckin’ car broke down. Anyway, YN left ours hours ago, said she was seeing Ada before she buggers back off to London,”

At that moment, Ada walked through the door, holding one of John and Esme’s kids on her hip, bouncing him gently. “I haven’t seen YN today, Tom. Didn’t show up to our reservation in that nice cafe. Haven’t heard from her, so I just thought she was with you,”

Tommy frowned deeply. “But... she left at half eight to catch the bus. I told her I’d give her a lift but she said she needed to run a few errands before she met up with you,” he checked his pocket watch quickly. “It’s gone noon. Are you lot sure you haven’t heard from or seen her?”

“Tom, it’s fine, she’s probably just caught up in the shops or something,” John said, lighting a cigarette.

“No. It’s not fucking fine, Johnboy. She left at half eight this morning, stood Ada up in her favourite cafe- and she’s been going on about it for weeks- and no one has seen hide nor hair of her for hours. Something’s wrong,”

Jaw set harshly, Tommy strode out of the betting shop, closely followed by his brothers. “Oi! Finn. Run and tell Sergeant Moss that I said to have a search party out. Tell him YN’s missing. Then on your way back, go to Charlie’s yard and tell him to keep an eye on the canals for her, alright. Good lad,” Finn nodded and began to run as fast as his legs would carry him.

“What about us, Tommy?” Arthur said. “Tell us what to do,”

***

Slowly, your eyes opened, though you still couldn’t see anything- a length of fabric covered your eyes, blocking out all light. Every inch of your body ached, and you became vaguely aware of the stinging sensation at your wrists- they were bound behind your back, the tightly knitted rope rubbing your skin raw. Judging by the slight jostling movement of your body and the hum of an engine below you, you were in a vehicle, being driven god knows where.

Deciding to keep quiet, you took some deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself, trying your hardest to recall the previous hours...

***

“I’ll see you later, Tom,” you smiled, giving your grinning husband a final kiss goodbye before setting off to the bus stop. Tommy had offered you a lift, but you declined, saying something about errands and scenery. It was an alright day, by British standards, the sun trying its hardest to peak through the thin clouds.

You were halfway to the bus stop when you felt a presence behind you. Hurrying your steps a little more, knowing the old gentleman from the village would likely be at the stop for his weekly shop, if you could just get around this bend, you dared a look behind you, before colliding head on with something- or rather someone.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” you said, making to step around him, but his arms shot out, grasping onto you while the man behind you yanked a fistful of your hair, tugging your head backwards.

“Don’t you worry, Shelby,” he said, a slight accent lacing his low voice. “You will be,”

You tried to stamp your heels down on the attackers’ shins, you made to bite the hands closest to your face, to wriggle as much as you could. As you began to scream, a damp cloth was held over your nose and mouth, making your eyes roll back and your body slacken, allowing the two men to drag you to their vehicle, hidden by the shrubbery and blossoming trees and the loud caws of the birds.

***

Tommy was in full panic mode. He had Peaky Blinders scouring the whole of Birmingham, Sergeant Moss had managed to telephone the London police and have a telegram sent to every constabulary in the country to keep an eye out. Johnny Doggs had the Lee boys out, and Charlie was stopping every boat the passed through the cut.

Tommy kicked the table in the betting shop, sending papers and coins flying. “Where the fuck is she?” He roared, eyes flashing with some anger, but mostly fear.

“We’re doing everything we can, Thomas,” Polly said firmly, patting her nephews back and pushing a cup of tea into his hands. “It’s well sugared. You need the energy,”

“It’s not fucking enough!” He yelled, taking one sip of the tea before slamming the cup down, sloshing the table. “She could be anywhere and we’re sat here like idiots!”

Polly sighed, retreating to man the phone, waiting for someone, anyone to phone with knowledge of your whereabouts.

“It’ll be alright, brother,” John said. “Esme’s down with the Lees making sure none of them are sat twiddling their thumbs. Moss has every copper in Birmingham on the case. Even the London coppers are looking for a Shelby, and their almost all under Solomons and Sabini,”

Tommy was quiet for a moment before he looked between his brothers. “Solomons and Sabini...” he said slowly, processing the information before his face hardened.

“Solomons is a mad bastard,” Arthur said quietly.

“Right. Car, now. We’re going to London,”

***

The blind fold was removed, but you still couldn’t see much. One of your eyes was swollen shut, and the room you were in was plunged in almost complete darkness. Your hands were still tied, only now they (along with your ankles) were bound to a chair. You tried to shuffle the chair along, but it made a loud grating scraping noise, and caused a blinding pain to shoot through your nerves. Something was definitely broken.

“Shelby,”

The voices echoed around the room as you heard the men draw closer, their footsteps rapping sharply against the concrete ground. You strained your good eye, trying to make out their faces, but you could only make out vague face shapes, plunged in shadows.

“I told you, I don’t have any information!” You said urgently, preparing yourself for another punch or kick.

It didn’t come. Instead you felt the cold edge of a thin blade pressing against your swollen cheek. He dragged the blade slowly and you hissed as your cheek bloomed with stinging pain, feeling your hot blood trickle down your face and neck.

“We don’t want information,” the other man said lowly as you felt the tip of the knife press against your neck briefly. You held your breath, preparing for the worst, before the blade dropped. You let out a shaky breath of relief, which quickly turned into a groan of pain as a thick finger dragged along the fresh wound. “We don’t need one of Shelby’s whores for information,” you shut your eyes tightly, willing your tears not to fall. “We want to destroy Tommy Shelby,”

***

“Thomas! Thomas! Stop the fucking car now!”

The car squealed to a halt and Tommy almost tripped over his own feet in his haste. “This had better be good, Pol,” he growled, grabbing hold of the phone. “Speaking,”

“That you, Tommy?”

Tommy gritted his teeth. “Aye, Solomons. Make it quick. I’ve no time for business now,”

“Yeah, I know, right. Right fuckin’ fuss you’ve kicked up, yeah. Looking for that wife of yours, I heard. Well, Tommy, my coppers have been out and about , right, searchin’ high and fuckin’ low. Found nothin’ right,”

“Alfie,” tommy hissed. “I’m on my way down to London, now. If you’ve got no information, I don’t wanna hear any of your fuckin’ stories, alright?”

“Oi, you watch your tone, Tommy. I’m getting there. See now, Ollie’s missus’s got a friend whose friend is the wife of a fuckin’ wop, right. She says, right, that your wife, YN, had been on Sabini’s fuckin’ hit list from the very start. He’s got his coppers trying to dismiss this ever so mysterious disappearance, right. But my coppers, yeah, Tommy, you followin’?”

“I’m following,” tommy said through gritted teeth.

“Right, well my coppers have received a tip off from one of Sabini’s coppers that there’s some funny business going on in the old abandoned warehouse, you know the one, the one up in Cheltenham, what the anarchists set fire to,”

“You sure, Alfie?”

“Course I’m fuckin’ sure. Off you go, Tommy,”

***

How long you had been on the floor for, you had no idea. Your arms and legs were no longer bound- not that it made any difference. You couldn’t move without a fresh round of pain turning your stomach. Tears mixed with blood on your cheeks; you could barely keep your eyes open; you lay next to a pool of your own vomit due to the pain; your clothes were soaking with your own blood and urine; you were ready to die.

***

Gunshots. Three of them.

Three voices shouting, although you couldn’t distinguish what they were saying.

The door swung open, flooding the room with light. You made to lift your head up off the floor, but sobbed in agony.

“Fuckin’ hell!”

“YN, it’s alright, I’m here! They’re gone, I’ve got you,”

You felt the familiar warm hands on your body, the strong arms lifting you, the distinct smell. But you couldn’t open your eyes- you were simply too tired.

“Tommy...” you breathed, one hand bunched up in his coat.

“Shhh, I’m here, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get you help, okay, my love. Don’t you worry one bit, okay?”

You nodded, trusting your eyes to shut, knowing that this time, tommy would be there to shake you awake, preventing you from giving into the darkness.

#tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy Shelby x reader #tommy Shelby x you #tommy Shelby angst #tommy Shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #request #2021

584 notes · View notes