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bellatrixscurls · 8 months

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exquisite weather today, no? | part i

warnings : smut, dom anthony and sub reader, pet names, fluff, ben and colin being little shits, reader is kind of naive given the action takes places sometime in the 1810s.

summary : anthony does not want to corrupt his innocent little wife... but what happens when his brothers lend him a helping hand?

a/n: please enjoy part one of my new series until i am done with the james and sirius fic, thank you! <3

“You are telling me that you have not slept in that way with your wife?” Benedict stops in their way down the halls, looking very much concerned. Anthony hums, checking his clock.

“But you’ve been married for almost a year now!” the younger brother exclaims, looking up at the viscount with a frown.

Anthony smirks and looks at his brother from the corner of his eye. “Not that it is any of your concern, but we do things. Together. Alone” his lie is obvious, but still, he leaves Benedict stunned in the middle of the hallway.

When he finally realises that the maids are looking at him funny, Benedict clears his throat and offers them a polite nod, before following Anthony into the drawing room.

Ah, here you are — sitting next to Colin on one of the sofas. With Anthony distracted, speaking to Daphne about the ‘Hearts and Flowers’ ball, he approaches you carefully, sitting beside Colin.

“Exquisite weather today, isn’t it?” he gives you a nod and you mirror his action, smiling, “Indeed it is, Ben.”

Colin looks between the two of you, back and forth, a confused smile gracing his lips. “This is not about the weather, is it?” he whispers through gritted teeth.

Benedict’s smile turns into a grin when the words leave his brother’s mouth. “I am, in fact, glad that you asked, Colin!” he says happily, “I came here because I need some... advice, from Y/n.”

Raising your eyebrows, you look at him in curiosity, “and what could someone such as yourself need advice for?”

Benedict thinks about it for a moment; should he say it? He means no harm but... a little fun won’t hurt... will it?

“Sex” the words leave his mouth and Colin chokes on his tea, eyes wide as he looks back at Benedict. ‘Are you mad?’ he mouths to his brother, but the second-born chooses to ignore him and look back at you. “So. Y/n?”

Benedict finds you looking up at him with wide eyes, lips pursed as you tried to search for that word in your mind, but with no results. “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Ben.”

This time, it is Colin looking back at you, a deep frown settling on his face. “Pardon? Anthony is your husband, there is no such thing as not knowing what sex is.. Does he refer to it differently?”

“You know... when you’re alone, naked, and he towers over you. That thing he puts in between your legs” Benedict quips, already very much content of where Colin has taken the conversation.

“He towers over me?”

The two burst out laughing at your cluelessness and, from the other side of the large room, Anthony’s brows furrow in concern.

“His cock, sweetness. What he has between his legs. I’m sure he spoils the crap out of you with it every night” Benedict taunts and Colin laughs breathily, adding on “or maybe he does not, brother. Seeing that Anthony is so busy all the time. He has more important things to take care of, I suppose.”

At this point, your eyes are teary and your hands are shaking as you listen to your brothers-in-law tease you endlessly. You are not aware of the meaning behind it, though.

In a moment, you feel a hand wrap around your waist and pull you up against the warmth of someone’s body; Anthony. As you look up at him, his heart shatters and his jaw clenches. “I do not know what you did, but be sure that I will find out. And when I do, I hope you will be taking a walk far away from here. More walks.”

And with that, he takes you away from his brothers and rest of the family, not bothering to excuse himself or you, his face red with hatred. He doesn’t know what his brothers told you, but he is positive that it managed to hurt you... And Anthony cannot bare seeing you hurt.

His hand grips yours tightly, in a possessive manner, not hurting you. He is always gentle with you, no matter the circumstances.

Once you reach the wooden door, Anthony ushers you into the bedroom with a hand at the small of your back, following closely behind before he closes the door.

“What did they tell you, my love?” his tone is alarmed and so are his hands, twitching at his sides.

When your eyes finally meet his, they are still filled with tears, sadness pulling at your heart. “Am I a burden to you? Am I- not pretty enough?”

Anthony’s heart breaks and he realises that he’s never seen you so sad before, not even when you were merely a couple and you had family issues.

“Angel, you have to tell me what it is that they told you. I need to know” he repeats through gritted teeth, ready to walk down those stairs and strangle Benedict and Colin.

“Sex” you repeat Benedict’s words unsurely, glancing up at Anthony. “Told me you are too busy for that. And I- you have never told me of that.”

At this point, his hands fly to your waist and he positions you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your lower body as he turns you to face him entirely. “My darling- They told you that? I-” he seems at a loss for words, and finally, his lips fall into a straight line and he lets go of your hand for a second, walking away from you, and to the floor mirror in his room. You pout as you lose his warmth, and your brows furrow when you notice him pulling the mirror towards you.

He takes his hand in yours and he helps you to your feet, your bottom lip wobbling when you catch sight of your teary eyes, but Anthony notices immediately, and his hands move to hug you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“You are so beautiful” he says softly, placing a kiss on the side of your neck, nosing at your skin as he continues speaking, “Undress for me, my love.”

Breathing having picked up, your eyes widen anxiously as your hands find his. “Anthony-” “I want to show you how good I can make you feel. Trust me. Please” he pleads, his eyes looking helplessly into yours. You give a curt nod, your heart pounding against your ribcage.

Your shaky hands move to undress yourself and Anthony helps peel off your dress and chemise, leaving you bare and vulnerable before him.

Anthony lets out one of the most obscene sounds when he presses his clothed body to your bare one, and you can feel his erection pressing into your backside, not that you are aware of what that is. Yet.

“Your hand. Move it down your body” he commands rather softly, watching you through the mirror. Your cheeks heat up but you obey nonetheless, your left hand stopping right above your lower stomach, “Lower. Touch your pussy for me, sweetheart.”

“Alright” you take a deep breath, your hand sliding further down your body, resting at your cunt, your warm touch making you shiver. “Feels odd” you whine, eyes pleading as you find his eyes through the mirror.

He bites his lip, his eyes closing for a moment before he is able to look at you again. “It shall feel good in just a moment... Can- Do you want me to show you?”

“Yes, please” you whisper and his hand instantly reaches to your cunt, using both of his hands to spread you open, your folds damp and spread out for him. “S’pretty” you say absentmindedly, dreamily staring at yourself in the mirror.

“Yes it is” he hums, grinning widely against your shoulder. His middle finger taps your clit twice, and he smirks as your body jolts up. “See this, darling? It’s your clit, your little button... You can rub it whenever you wish to feel good.”

“Whenever I wish?” you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.

“Yes, sweetness” he hums, his cock hardening at the thought of you wanting to touch yourself, let alone to the thought of him. “And if you want it to feel even better, you must-” with your hole dripping wet, Anthony manages to slip a digit right inside of you, causing you to gasp in both slight pain and excitement. He is finally giving it to you.

“Anthony- what is this?” you ask curiously, Anthony’s finger still inside of you, leaving you to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

“Bit of stimulation before I can give you my cock, bunny. Or, as my dear brothers wish to call it, have sex” he chuckles lowly and starts pumping his finger into you, your fragile body shaking, your knees ready to give out, but you know that he is here to catch you.

“Great” you reply breathily, one of your hands slipping into his.

“You must relax, my love” he tuts, moving his finger in and out slowly, the feeling leaving you bucking your hips into his hand, eyes rolling back. “Let them enjoy the show” he eyes you intently through the mirror.

You look at him rather confused, but his other hand moves to cup your jaw and gently turn your head to the side, towards the door.

A door cracked open. Benedict and Colin.

#anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x reader #bridgerton smut #bridgerton fanfiction

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inner-viper · 7 months

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20 Channeled Messages From Your FS

Hello, it is Inner Viper! I love channeling these messages, some are oddly specific and they are very sweet. I am currently in the middle of planning a very long reading for you guys! I’m thankful for your support for my blog. I created this blog for fun and for people to smile more, I really hope that people can smile more. I am not going to lie, sometimes channeling can be overwhelming for me but this blog has helped me improve in my overall abilities. I even unlocked some new abilities so thanks, everyone!

If you want a paid reading please check out my list here.

Remember to choose the image that is calling out to you. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t because this is a general pac reading. Some messages are not meant for you, while other messages aren’t meant for you. Also, this is meant to give you insight, not concrete evidence.

I hope you enjoy the reading for today!

TW: Mentions of body dysmorphia, abuse, and slightly suggestive content

»»————-　♡　————-««

Pile 1

“Hey, come closer so I can kiss you. My day always starts well with you at my side”

“Stay with me forever, I promise to take care of you”

“Don’t deny me, you know you like what you see ;)” (They winking here lol)

“Don’t think you can run away, I finally have you all to myself. You won’t be prepared for what I have planned for”

“Fuck, I wish you were right here. It’s boring without you here right now”

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise! I also got something for you”

“You have stolen my heart, if eros were here then he has struck me to be in love with you even more than before”

“I love you for who you are, I want to be like you”

“Hello? Hello? HELLO? GIVE ME ATTENTION, I’M BORED! I NEED YOU RIGHT NOW”

“Stop, let’s go over here.. Hehe you didn’t expect that right!” (They kissed you but also I leave it up to the imagination since this is GENERAL pac lol)

“Let’s go to Japan, I want to see the cheery blossoms with you. To take a picture of you underneath the petals following. I’ll cherish that picture for the rest of my life”

“Wanna go out tonight? Good thing you said yes because I have already made reservations for us to spend some time alone”

“Hey, do you think you can kiss me? Kiss me now!”

“The warmth I feel near you, the way I am at peace with you, yet my heart still races with you at my side”

“You always make me feel horny, I love everything you do!”

“What’s wrong? Hey, don’t worry. I love you forever and always. You can always rely on me”

“I will patiently wait for you, my heart can’t bare to lose you”

“You are always helping others, why can’t you stop helping? You should chill and let others help, ugh you have such a big heart and that’s why I love you”

“When I see you sitting there passionately drawing, I wonder how it feels to see the world from your lens. The way you think and the words you say amaze me”

“Let me touch you, let me be the one to hold you, let me be the one to always be there for you, will you give me the honor?”

This person is very sweet and romantic. Love these messages I channeled for you pile 1. Honestly, my heart was feeling warm too, there will be so many precious moments with your FS every day.

Pile 2

“Each day is a beautiful day with you, the joy that you bring me is like no other. I can’t put my feelings into words”

“I want to give you strawberries with chocolates, are you being seduced by me now?”

“What is this strange feeling.. I feel like I am on drugs when I am near you. You drive me crazy in the best way possible”

“See! I told you that you would like fine wearing this! Baby, you are gorgeous!” (Maybe you are insecure about yourself? Body dysmorphia? )

“At the end of the rainbow, there is a pot filled with gold, they say that the gems are precious and that the leprechauns hide them away. You are my gold, I am like the leprechaun. I want to keep you with me forever and away from people that might try to steal you away from me!”

“I can create so many things, you inspired a different style in me. Artistic style, yeah this artistic expression of the love that I feel for you. Divine love baby” (Aw, I heard this one strongly)

“Our love doesn’t stop at death, it is eternal. My love knows no bounds with you!”

“I used to believe that I won’t be able to find the one, I often times pondered if you were even out there. I wondered if you thought about me while staring at the moon. I am glad to have found you”

“I finally found you in this sea of fishes. The ocean is far too vast yet I will still go looking for you”

“I love making you smile, you always make me smile. Can you promise to laugh with me?”

“You are the only one that I’ll let inside my heart, no one else is allowed except for you”

“The world was dull, ever since you came into my life. You have brought a fresh perspective that I needed to see. I couldn’t have seen it without you here”

“I want to overstimulate you”

“Follow my lead, I won’t leave you behind. I’ll always protect you until the end of my life”

“Roses are red, and your face is red”

“You are safe with me, you are my safe space”

“I feel like I can just be me when I am with you”

“Let's show our love to the world baby”

“My heart beats so fast around you, I worry that you may be able to hear it”

“I went through so much in my life, you are the only person I feel safe with. I struggle with vulnerability but you make me feel better”

This person went through a lot! I’m sorry for this pile’s FS because I feel they went through some abuse and they have a hard time expressing emotions. They are going to heal with you when you meet them! They are opening up to people slowly though!

Pile 3

“I wonder how many days till you notice how much I love you and care for you”

“I love watching you sleep, your resting face is beautiful”

“You are beautiful in every moment, I want to capture your essence”

“Dear god I love you so fucking much”

“I just want to dance with you, lets dance until the night”

“Let go of the fear of not being enough”

“I have given you all of me and now you’ll give yourself to me! Submit to me because I am Daddy”

“I love the way that you praise me, give me more compliments! You have no idea what it does to me”

“I am honored to be the one to cherish you, to be the one to hold you dearly, thank you for giving me the honor”

“We may have not been there for each other first half of our lives but that doesn’t mean we can’t create memories or form a close bond. We have the rest of our lives, let’s take each day to create something new”

“Oh god, I am a late bloomer. I haven’t had my first love until you, I mean I dated a couple of people but I never loved them. You are the first and last love of my life and I promise to commit to that”

“People often tell me how I got into a relationship with you, you are so fine! I don’t have much of an answer because you are just the one. I never believed in finding the one until I met you. Ok, maybe I am lying because I am a hopeless romantic”

“Ah, you like my sweet words don’t you love?”

“Let’s look at the stars tonight, I will be staring at you all night because you are my light. You are my star in this world”

“You are my best friend and you are my lover”

“The angels are around us because you are an angel! You were sent from the heavens down onto earth!”

“You are nothing like me! You are so different and I never met anyone like you before”

“I want to scream your name tonight, come on you will be screaming my name tonight as well”

“I look at you from afar and I can tell that it is you because no one is as beautiful and as bright as you are”

“I love your laughter, your hair, your eyes, everything about you is so fine”

This pile’s FS is very sweet and romantic! They view you as their best friend and they love everything about you. They think that you have so much to offer for this world, they are intoxicated by you. Also, I think for this pile you may be their first love and for some their first everything! It’s so cute <3

»»————-　♡　————-«« Thank you for reading! If you want a paid reading please check out my list here.

#pac #tarot #hellenic pagan #pagan witch #pick a card #witchcraft #paganism #pick a pile #tarot cards #tarot pick a card #daily tarot #tarot deck #tarot reading #divination #fs pac #pac future spouse #pac tarot #pac reading

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moonstruckme · 6 months

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Hi! I'd copy-and-pasted this request into my doc to write it, but now I can't find it in my inbox! I don't think it was anonymous, so if this is your request and it somehow got deleted, I'm very sorry! Thank you for requesting, apologies for the wait, and hope you like it <3

hi love!!! Congratulations on 1,000 followers!!! I absolutely adore your writing and if your requests are open I’d love it if you could right something about poly marauders with a reader who’s non-binary or gender fluid. Maybe they just got together and the reader hasn’t came out to them yet or something. Idk you get all the writing freedom, of course if you don’t want to write it’s totally fine!!! Thanks anyway 🫶💗🫶💗 xoxo

cw: marauders unknowingly misrepresent reader's pronouns+gender

poly!marauders x nb!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“Sirius, no.” Remus rubs at his temples. “I will not mar you with a tattoo gun you bought from some bloke on the street.”

“Oh, don’t be such a wuss,” Sirius complains, sitting spread out on his bed. “It'll be fun, you can all do it!”

“I’m on board,” James says from his own bed. He’s levitating his shoes about the room idly. “Hey Pads, can we draw anything we want?”

Sirius ponders this for a moment. “If you do a dick, it has to be small, and I’m putting an arrow with your name next to it.”

James’ smile fades, and he lets the shoes drop. “You’re no fun.”

“I don’t know,” you say to Remus, looking up at him from your chosen spot on the floor of their dorm. “It’s his body, I say let him cover it in shitty tattoos if that’s what he wants.”

“Yes!” Sirius hops down from his bed to throw an arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your cheek. “That’s what I’m talking about, that’s my girl!”

You’d begun to glow at his over-the-top praise, but you dim at the last bit. Sirius must feel it; he looks over at you quizzically as Remus says for the fifth time, “That’s fine, but I won’t have anything to do with it.”

“Well, it’ll…” Sirius’ eyebrows furrow as he continues to watch you. You try to bury your discontent where he can’t see it, but once he catches a whiff of melancholy he becomes a dog with a bone. The levity slowly leeches from his voice. “It’ll be more fun if you all do it…Sorry, sweetheart, is everything alright?”

You don’t want the attention, but you can’t bring yourself to lie. “I didn’t mean to distract you,” you say softly, shoulders hunching forward. “Keep going.”

“No, that’s alright.” His slender fingers squeeze at your shoulder like he can tell you need the comfort. “It’s not actually important. What’s on your mind?”

You want to tell him. You want to tell all of them, you have for weeks, but is there ever a right time? When the boys had first asked you out, it felt too abrupt to say anything, like you were making a big deal out of nothing because they didn’t even know you all that well. But now you’ve turned serious faster than you could’ve seen coming, and they feel like they do know you that well. And the longer you go without telling them, the more like you feel like you’re keeping some dirty secret.

You should have just corrected them the first time they’d gotten your pronouns wrong. Each time feels like someone’s chipping away at your heart with a toothpick, the pain lessened by your surety in their good intentions but still very much there. It’s almost worse, now, to be on the precipice of falling in love with people who you don’t feel really know you, and it’s all your own fault.

This isn’t how you’d imagined the conversation coming about, but it might be the best chance you get for a while.

“I, uh.” You clear your throat, unsure if you should move out from under Sirius’ arm for this conversation but really not wanting to. “I don’t…listen, it’s not your fault, but I don’t really like it when you call me your girl.”

Sirius lets his arm drop to look at you properly, hurt flashing across his features. You take his hand, selfish thing that you are. “I mean it, it’s really not your fault.” It’s more plea than promise. “It’s just that I don’t—I don’t really see myself as a girl. I’m sorry.”

You watch confusion take hold in Sirius’ expression before letting your eyes flit to the other boys. James looks tentatively like he’s beginning to understand, and Remus’ face is carefully controlled. He leans his elbows on his knees, looking down at you.

“What do you mean by that, honey?”

You know the endearment is meant to soften the question, but you get all tense around the middle anyway.

“Just that…” You swallow, and James offers you a small smile of encouragement. “I don’t really see myself as any gender. It’s…it’s called nonbinary, I don’t know if you might’ve heard of it before? I’m really sorry I didn’t say something sooner.”

“Hey, that’s alright.” James kicks a foot out from his bed, nudging your leg gently. “I’m really glad you told us, angel. Thank you.”

You try to return his smile, chewing your lip.

“Merlin, I thought you meant you didn’t want to be our girl,” Sirius sighs, bumping your shoulder with his. “That would have been unacceptable. You can be our something-else, though, if you like.”

This is going well, you tell yourself. They’re being as kind as you’d always expected. Still, you don’t feel like they fully understand what you’re so clumsily trying to tell them.

“I get it if this changes things for you,” you say, and when you lean away from Sirius’ touch, he doesn’t chase you. “I know this is…you signed on for a girlfriend, not this.”

The gentle smile drops from James’ face. His eyebrows twitch together uncertainly. “We…what? No, we didn’t…we didn’t ‘sign on’ for anything like that. We signed on for you.”

“Darling,” Remus says, in that careful, measured voice that you can’t decide if you should be nervous about, “I don’t know a lot about this, so correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the point that you’re still you? You’re just telling us how you’d like to be treated and understood, right?”

You take a second to run over his words in your head before nodding.

Everything about Remus has gone soft, from his eyes to the gentle uptilt of his mouth. “Then James is right. Nothing has changed. I mean, we can make any changes to our relationship that make you more comfortable, but nothing about how much we care for you is any different.”

“And look around you, sweetheart.” Laughter livens Sirius’ tone. “It’s not like any of us are only dating girls.”

A smile tugs at your lips. “That’s a good point,” you mumble, and he laughs, arm reclaiming its spot around your shoulders.

“Yeah, I actually do make those sometimes,” he teases. “Listen, gorgeous, I don’t think anyone here has a problem with you being whoever you are. Just tell us what you like to be called, and we will. And if there’s anything we do that you don’t like,” he adds, giving your shoulder a little squeeze, “you can tell us those things too.”

James nods, emphatic. “Exactly. We want to support you, angel. Thanks for telling us, but just keep talking to us when you can, okay?”

You have to bite down on your lip to contain the full scope of your smile. “Okay,” you promise him, overflowing with a gratitude that feels a lot like love. “Thanks. You guys are too sweet to me.”

Remus makes a pfft sound. “Dove, I cannot believe that is your standard for sweetness. You’ve set the bar far too low.”

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impishjesters · 6 months

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Agents of Cat-astrophe

warning(s): none unless you count Jax note(s): This gave me a good chuckle as someone who's consistently dropping more curse words than regular words, I'd imagine the system to just censor anything and everything that comes out of my mouth at that point. A/N: (In response to the requester) I wish I was taking breaks (I mean I am sorta), I'm fully aware I'm running myself ragged right now. But it's hard for me to stop myself... I'm caffeinated and chaotic and I don't wanna stew in my brain for too long. At least I get up and stretch every now and then. Request: Anyways, I’m requesting a Jax x reader (crushing stage) where the reader is sorta at the same level of meanness as Jax and likes to do pranks with him on the other characters. Also the reader’s digital form is a short cat that at first glance makes them look nice/friendly (obviously not an actual cat but yk what I mean), and they have a sailor’s mouth that is unfortunately censored but that doesn’t stop them (can also purr and does so when they’re content which is usually when there chilling in Jax’s room or with Jax in general). I think it would be fun if the reader surprisingly was sorta nicer to Kinger and has a small soft spot for him and does more playful pranks on him than mean/harmful ones.

When you first showed up, you looked so small and frail, like a literal little kitten completely out of place in this big colourful nightmare world

Ragatha thought you’d be like Pomni, and boy howdy was she wrong

You just ended up being another Jax—who you later met and found out was also an agent of chaos

Similarly to Pomni you cursed up a storm when you first arrived and the endless censorship that came with it

You have a knack for testing Caine’s patience when it comes to your sailor’s mouth, much to Jax’s entertainment. It’s not every day Caine loses his cool like that and you’re just a newbie, needless to say, you caught his interest

That sailor’s mouth also gets used towards the other’s and Jax won’t lie and say it’s not funny because shit’s hilarious.

Sure they all curse from time to time, but you just laid out an entire sentence that was completely and utterly censored. Like the system said “fuck this I’m gonna censor the whole damn sentence”

Unlike Jax who doesn’t show any remorse for who he pranks or how cruel they are, you draw the line at messing with Kinger.

Okay, that’s a lie you still mess with him but it’s not like how you mess with the others. Kinger has this sweet unstable dad/grandpa vibe and it kind of makes the place more homey in a weird way. (plus that man has been through enough trauma, give him a break, and talk about his bug collections or some shit)

The upside is that his mind is so scattered sometimes that using the same pranks on him always results in something hilarious. So you really don’t need to try for any new material. (he also really needs to consider actually using the lock on his door, he makes it too easy)

Jax considered you his little partner in crime the more time passed—not exactly a friend nah, but like a good ol pal that also likes to partake in joining him and his bullshittery

The first time he hears you purring is when the two of you are lazing about in his room, he’d gotten distracted collecting things for a prank on someone and heard the loudest rumbling coming from behind him

“Are you fucking purring?”

It’s a little embarrassing at first, you’ve uh, never done that before..

Jax has the biggest shit-eating grin, if he wasn’t using dumb cat-themed nicknames before he sure as hell is now

“Oh, like you don’t stomp your feet like a petulant child you overgrown rabbit.”

He does not stomp his fuckin feet like a temperamental rabbit, thank you very much (that’s a fuckin lie if I ever heard one)

Jax already had mixed feelings about you before, nothing particularly bad, just feelings he couldn’t place…that was until the prank…

He doesn’t know how you did it, or how he got so wrapped up in it. But you pranked him, and you pranked him good.

Oh, oh okay that feeling is new… butterflies don’t typically belong inside your gut, now whether Jax has ever experienced a crush before or not is probably beyond him. But these little butterflies are a bitch and it takes awhile of placing two and two together to realize he’s… caught feelings to some degree

You, however, probably had a crush on him for a while, perhaps really noticing it after the whole purring fiasco when you learned that it only happened around Jax

#the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #jax x reader #jax #tadc

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uncsukuna · 22 days

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“i think forever would be nice with you.”

synop. kunigami wants to be with you for life.

tags. fem!reader (called ma’am once), fluff fluff fluff, uh a bit of angst if u really really really squint, reader is a tease and kind of a pessimist (or maybe a realistic idk up to u), kunigami is head over heels, dont ask when this would happen in canon bc idk, not proofread

note. ngl im tired asf... if this is incoherent, im sorry. the ending is vv awkward, mb. uhhhh man idk what else to say kunigami is the sweetest boy alive. this is inspired by one of those timtok slideshows, the one thing that app has done good forme

you flop back on the sand, chest heaving up and down from trying (and failing) to race kunigami. sweat rolls down the side of your face and neck, and you can feel the gritty sand clinging to your bare feet and legs.

“tired?” he plops down on the sand beside you and reaches for your hand. his larger, thicker fingers intertwine with yours, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, as if to comfort you after your shameful loss.

“very,” you huff out. your lungs burn as you gulp down air. “how do you— how do you do this every week?”

he shrugs. “habit. started when i was kid, found it fun, so i kept doing it. helps me stay in shape whenever i don’t wanna go to the gym or just need some time alone.”

his free finger doodles the face of a polar bear in the sand. you smile — it’s cute how he knows how to draw that from memory.

your eyes roll to look at him. his face is shiny with sweat, and the pale moonlight softens his features, giving kunigami almost a boyish look.

there’s no one else here. just you, kunigami, and the sounds of the waves lapping against each other and the shore. the beach is clean, too. not a crumpled beer can or a plastic wrapper in sight.

“does anyone else even know this place exists?” there’s that familiar teasing lilt in your voice, but he knows you’re serious.

he scratches the back of his head. “nah. i mean, there’s the occasional fisherman or maybe some elderly couple, but i don’t think anyone our age knows about this.”

“huh.”

a pause, and the warm breeze blows across your skin, dusting the sand away.

you grin. “so you’re just gonna gatekeep this for eternity, huh?”

“what? no!” you can practically feel his cheeks heating up from here. “i didn’t wanna ruin it by bringing the wrong people here, y’know? they might trash it or somethin’.”

“and what if i trash it?”

“you won’t.” kunigami’s reply is instant, the words shooting out of his mouth and into the night’s atmosphere. “you’re special.”

whatever goofy reply you had on your tongue instantly melts, and you’re pretty sure your heart skips a beat or two. how can he say such romantic things so... so casually?

“i, uh...” he sighs and goes back to tracing shapes in the sand, his hand still holding on tightly to yours. “you wouldn’t do something like that. even if you did, i’ll be right there to clean it up.”

you push yourself up so that you’re sitting criss-cross. your entire body is facing him now. “but what if we break up? or you move away?”

“i won’t. we won’t.”

your brows knit together. “rensuke, you don’t know that.”

something is bound to happen. something always happens. nothing good lasts forever, right? he’s in blue lock, dedicating weeks at a time to train and play in tournaments to be the world’s best striker — at some point, he’s going to have to choose. you or his football career.

even to yourself, you sound pessimistic. but you just have to be honest with yourself. life isn’t a fairytale, despite kunigami being your knight in shining armor.

“i want forever with you.”

his gaze meets yours, determination burning in auburn irises. “i’m not gonna sit here and lie to you or be embarrassed about it, ‘cause it’s true.”

you blink, and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs.

kunigami, your boyfriend of two years, wants forever with you.

it’s ridiculous, fantastical, a hundred other synonymous terms. both of you are seventeen — you have decades and decades ahead of you to decide when you want and who you’re going to spend forever with.

and he chose you.

his adam’s apple bobs, but his gaze doesn’t waver. “do you want forever with me?” his grip on your hand tightens.

“yeah.”

you don’t have to think about it. there’s nothing to think about it. it’s dumb and unrealistic, sure, but when has kunigami ever broken a promise? when has he ever lied to you?

it doesn’t take decades of being together to know that kunigami loves you with all of his heart, and you love him just the same.

your lips curl into a smile, and you can’t tell whether your vision is getting blurry from happy or sad tears. “i want forever with you.”

“okay.” he adjusts himself so that, now, both of you are facing each other. his shins touch yours, and his other hand grabs yours.

“‘okay’? that’s it? after you basically just proposed to me?” you raise an eyebrow. “with no ring, either! you could’ve gotten me a ring pop.”

kunigami chuckles, the tension seeping out of his bulky form. “sorry. i’ll get you a ring pop on the way back.”

“two ring pops, actually, and they better be the right flavor.”

“yes, ma’am.”

#﹒writing #blue lock #blue lock fluff #bllk #bllk fluff #blue lock kunigami #bllk kunigami #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #kunigami rensuke #kunigami x reader #kunigami x you #kunigami rensuke x reader #kunigami rensuke x you

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cvlutos · 1 year

Text

“No Nut November” Pt.1

| Repost: 01.10.23 | 1.3K | Mature |

NRC 1st Years X GN!Reader

♡ ACE TRAPPOLA ♡

LOSER #ONE

Swore he wouldn’t fail. Would not shut the fuck up. Would constantly brag about how well he did. When it’s only been a day. He’s the most likely to fail on the 1st day. Not even most likely, he does. That’s mad embarrassing but will most definitely lie for the entire month.

He 100% blames you. You just happened to wear a hot-ass outfit [very very casual relaxation clothes] when he came to Ramshackle after school, he swears you did it on purpose. When he returns to Heartslabyul, exhausted from studying but trying to hide his hard-on, he makes a beeline for the bathroom. Nearly ripping his belt off, biting his bottom lip as his hands make contact with his dick.

“This is all your fault—”

♡ DEUCE SPADE ♡

LOSER #TWO

Definitely was aware of No Nut November, but didn’t really get the hype, nor were girls really attracted to him during his delinquent days. [He’s lying. Deuce had girls flocking to him in droves. He’s just oblivious] Deuce doesn’t really view himself as a sexual person until he met you. Unlike Ace, he’s taking it seriously. He’s gonna prove he has self-restraint and is better than Ace. Fails on the 2nd day, partly because he forgot, but also because you smiled at him. He won’t lie, but at the same time will dance around the topic for the rest of November. It’s pretty obvious to everyone he failed.

He swears he isn’t some sexual deviant. You’re just so kind and sweet, and a wonderful person. He can’t help himself. The thought doesn’t cross his mind’ til he’s already close. Laying on his side, his face shoves further into the fabric of your shirt. He lets out a choked groan, desperately fucking his fist. He’s already so close, might as well finish. You won’t ever know.

“... I’m sorry, [Name]...”

♡JACK HOWL ♡

LOSER #THREE

Let’s be honest. Jack knows and finds it annoying, like what’s the purpose? Will definitely participate when Ace makes fun of him for not being able to last. He’s competitive. Will act all high and mighty and honestly does well. I give him 15 days at most before he breaks. He most likely forgot the first 10 days, but then started to notice you a lot more, like the way your eyes seem to sparkle, and your laugh is something he can’t ignore. The next 5, he’s forcing himself through and is becoming mad grumpy, cause well.

Says fuck it the moment he sees your skin that’s usually covered. [You showed him a portion of your stomach or bare legs, he’s going feral] Before you can say a thing, Jack is already gone, deciding that he’d be unable to walk into his dorm without drawing attention to himself, he’s deep in the forest. Leaning against a tree, imagining his hand is you. At Least he doesn’t have to clean up much. He’s slightly guilty for the next few days, but won’t tell you, but you will see an influx of gifts.

“This is so embarrassing…”

♡ EPEL FELMIER ♡

LOSER #FOUR

Almost as loud as Ace, with his bragging. Especially with just your friend's group, no Vil or Rook in sight. He’s letting his country accent fly, with not a damn care. It’s a little funny and cute. Don’t say that to his face. I’m gonna make an educated guess and say he definitely needs to bust it at least once a day. He gets even worse after meeting you, often disappearing into the bathroom, but who needs it for 20 minutes on average? I don’t know what’s worse, Ace bragging and losing the 1st day. Or Epel hyping himself up, only for you to mention how hot he is.

He’s already leaking. He sits on the toilet seat of your bathroom, rubbing his nose against your damp shower towel, squeezing his eyes shut, pumping his dick desperately. You name tumbles from his lips, muffled and desperate. He compares succeeding NNN to being a stronger man, and most definitely falls the 1st hour of making his bet. Will ask Jack hypotheticals, and he’s just like, ‘I don’t know, man’. Similar to Deuce, he will jump around the topic, or suddenly switch up. Saying NNN is dumb. Like bffr.

“No Nut November iz dumb! No, I didn’ fail, ya jerk”

♡ SEBEK ZIGVOLT ♡

ONLY WINNER

Now, I know what you are thinking. Ain’t no way. Sebek is loud and most likely has announced his displeasures with NNN. It’s childish. Uncouth. For the dumb and ignorant. Wait—you think it’s funny and cool? He guesses he can try, and will publicly and I mean publicly announce his plans to win. And he will. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his challenges. Sebek is a knight in training and has amazing self-control. And last half the month without trouble, the other half, he’s just missing. You see him in all his classes, but he’s avoiding you like the plagues.

He is giving his all to winning. The moment December 1st strikes, he’s acting a damn fool. Fucking his hand, bed, blankets, anything and everything, cause cumming once just isn’t enough. He’s gonna casually NOT, will do a fucking public service announcement about his winnings. Gods, he’s embarrassing. Will not shut up. Please say you’re proud of him.

“Of course I won. As Lord Malleus Knight—”

#t.manor.erotic.stories #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt #ace trappola smut #deuce spade smut #jack howl smut #epel felmier smut #sebek zigvolt smut

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sebsbarnes · 3 months

Note

Hi there!

I first of all wanted to start off by saying that I’m absolutely obsessed with your work- it’s amazing!!

Secondly, I was wondering if I could make a request?

Can I request a tangerine x reader where they’re out at a bar or something and there’s this guy being really pervy and creepy and just won’t leave her alone?

Obviously the reader can handle herself but they just got back from a long and tiring mission, and she quite honestly doesn’t have the energy.

So of course tan comes to the rescue 🤭🤭

I hope this is okay, and if not please feel free to ignore this!!

Have a wonderful day love and don’t forget to drink lots of water <33

heey!! i really appreciate the kind words, it keeps me going! i hope you've had a good day/night and if not tm will be better! and i hope u enjoy this!

bar fight || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

warnings: harassment, fighting

word count: 1.6k+

masterlist

a/n: im drawing inspo from something that happened to me one time at a bar which will be the reason tan steps in here but of course tangerine was not there to save me although that would've been lovely

"just one pint! two, two! i swear and then we all can leave," lemon pleaded, "we can leave the second i finish it. i'll even take the last sip on the way out the door," he tried enticing you, rubbing his shoulder up and down against yours.

"i reek, lemon. and tangerine looks like he nose dived into green and purple paint," you grimaced slightly at the bruises forming on tan's face.

lemon grabbed your wrist dragging you closer to the bar doors, "is it even a real bar if at least ten people don't smell awful and your shoes don't stick to the floor?"

the color of your eyes disappeared into the back of your head, "let's go."

lemon did a little victory dance before swinging the door open which tangerine held for you to walk in. the fatigue was riddled on both of your faces. the three of you had just gotten back into town after a long and very successful mission. you were all for celebrating but tonight you'd rather celebrate with a burning hot shower.

"you 'right by yourself? i'm going to head to the balcony for a few," tangerine asked, waving his pack of cigarettes in the air.

"yeah go for it, i'll manage," you replied. tangerine gave you a small nod before turning his back and sliding outside.

the inside of the bar was packed and you were shuffling around with your shoulders pulled in to try and avoid hitting people. it was loud, smelly, and yes, the floors were grossly sticky. it only annoyed you more, but, you tried having a positive attitude about it. 'two drinks' is all you kept telling yourself. after what felt like years you made it to the bar. you were sandwiched against a girl with blonde hair and a guy who weaseled his way in between you and an older gentleman. you could feel his eyes burning holes in the side of your head and the last thing you wanted to do was look over, but, it was becoming too much.

"hi!" he nearly yelled as you glanced over quickly.

"hey," you said curtly, bringing your lips into a straight line.

"i'm craig. what's your name?" he asked leaning in closer to you. you gave him your name, refusing to look back at him as you felt his eyes examine you. the drink you ordered appeared in front of you and you scribbled your name on the receipt.

"what's that you're drinking?" craig asked but you pretended not to hear him as you slinked into the crowd, hoping to lose him.

it worked for a while, you found some space near a wall to stand. there was a group of girls next to you singing loudly and dancing around. you couldn't lie and say it wasn't infectious as one of the drunk girls grabbed your hand and started dancing with you, which of course you joined in. it was fun and it kept your mind off how tired your body was.

"thought i lost you there!" you flinched away, startled, by craig's nervous laughter beside you. you looked down at the man who stood inches below you and gave him an award-winning fake smile.

"you're very pretty," he said puffing his chest out slightly.

"thanks."

"you don't talk much, eh? is it because you're nervous around me?" craig asked his eyes looking down at your legs.

"just tired!" you exclaimed with fake enthusiasm, gulping down the tequila in your cup.

"you seem a bit lonely, are you by yourself tonight?" he persisted, inching closer to you with each word despite you stepping to the side each time.

"nope!" you retorted, popping the 'p' and turning to find the bathroom.

you stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes and finished your drink. the eyebags seemed to protrude out of your face as you examined them in the mirror. now, lemon had to almost be done with his drinks. that man can pound drinks back. so, with high hopes you left the bathroom to go find a seat at the bar and wait until lemon found or texted you or hopefully tangerine was done smoking.

there was a vacant stool in the dead center which you jumped on. your elbow rested against the bar, head in hand, absentmindedly watching the tv in the corner. it was a boxing match that you had zero interest in but it provided enough entertainment. you shut your eyes tight as you felt the familiar, unwelcomed, presence over your shoulder.

"look, i think you are really pretty. hotter than anyone else here and look at me. any girl would want me and the fact you're trying to play hard to get is starting to really piss me off," craig ranted but you refused to turn your head and pretended like the noise of the bar drowned his voice out.

"you're right, i'm sorry. that was rude of me, i apologize. i just noticed you the moment you walked into the bar and i needed to talk to you. you're really beautiful and i know i'd treat you right. whoever you're dating must not be treating you right because i can feel that you want me."

tangerine blew out one last cloud of smoke and tossed his cigarette into the ashtray. it was far more peaceful outside but he knew he had to go in and find lemon, who he knew was more than two drinks in and probably friends with ten more people. tangerine opened the door back into the bar and scanned the room. that's when he saw a man with his hand on your throat.

you ignored craig's presence until you no longer could. he was silent for a few moments after his rant. suddenly, you saw a hand snake into your field of vision and you felt his hand pressing firmly against your throat. you were shocked for a moment before realizing what was going on. craig's thumb and middle finger were applying harsh pressure to your throat making it hard to breathe. then, you felt the pressure shift in his hand from choking to pushing. craig pulled you to the ground by your throat, your body flying backward off the stool and slamming into the floor.

you saw a figure jump over your body and loud commotion next to you but you were too disorientated at the moment from the wind being knocked out of you. one of the bartenders leaped over the bar and pulled you up and shielded you from the commotion. that's when you realized it was tangerine who had hopped over and started beating craig to the floor. it was like a scene straight out of the boxing match you were just watching. tangerine towered over craig in height and build and the anger in his face was terrifying.

tangerine was throwing the smaller man across the bar with punches. he'd punch craig in the face to which he stumbled and then tangerine would trip him. his body would fall to the ground and tangerine would pick him up by the shirt before launching him into the now vacant stools.

"please!" craig pleaded, blood running from his eyebrow. tangerine grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face into the bar.

"you like hurting women? huh?" he screamed, "you think you're so tough, look at you now! fuckin' pathetic piece of shit. what? it's not fun being picked on and harassed?"

tangerine was raging. his face and chest were red with anger and the vein in his forehead pulsated. he had wild eyes similar to when he was on a mission. you watched as he slipped his hand into his pants pocket, slipping on his brass knuckles. before he was able to crush the bastard's nose lemon swooped in from behind and grabbed tangerine's bicep. the bouncers from outside grabbed craig by the neck of his shirt and kicked his bloody body out of the bar. lemon's hands were on tangerine's shoulders trying to calm his brother down. finally, tangerine's chest rose and fell at a normal pace and he turned his head and noticed you. lemon released his shoulders letting him walk to you.

tangerine cupped your face and craned his neck down a bit, "are you alright love?"

you laughed slightly uncomfortable that a big scene was made because of you, "yeah... just shocked really."

"did he hurt you in any other way?" he asked with softness.

"no. no... i didn't think it would turn into that. he had been bothering me the whole time i should've been more forceful but i was just too tired to really care," you sighed.

"no," tangerine said sternly, now eye level with you, "none of this is your fault, okay? that prick should know better than to continue to harass someone who is clearly not accepting their advances. and the fact he fuckin' put his hands on you. fuck i'll..." tangerine gritted his teeth now standing upright and looking towards the door craig was kicked out of.

"tan! no. you getting arrested is not worth it. i'm okay, okay? he got what he deserved and i really don't want to be here any longer," you pleaded, grabbing onto his forearm to force him to look at you.

tangerine caressed your head, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and anger. tangerine guided you outside and when the door shut he pulled you into a tight but gentle hug, mindful of your back.

"i'm so fuckin' sorry love. i should've stayed with you the whole night," he whispered into your hair.

you pulled back from the hug, "mmm no, hey, hey- that's not what we are going to do. you have nothing to be sorry for and i'm thankful for you and not just now when you beat dickheads up for me, but always."

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wambsgansshoelaces · 3 months

Note

heyy love, i love your fics so muchhh!! if ur requests are open, i was wondering if you could write this fun lil oneshot i thought of<3

(didn't really think much of the details but i imagined something like the episode with the pierce family, or u could change to what feels nice to u)

reader is like super hot/crazy attractive and the siblings are instantly interested. kendall and roman, being their idiot selves, start competing for her attention and trying to get her to accept going out etc. turns out, at the end of the day, shiv gets the girl, as she was the one reader wanted all along (gagged them)

Girls Get Girls

Siobhan Roy x fem!Reader

not gonna lie anon I feel like I didn’t do this too well so I’m so so sorry :( I still hope you enjoy even though I don’t really deliver x

btw I literally love you anon keep requesting

im so gay

Word Count: 2.893k

Mergers, acquisitions, stock, trade, liquidation. You couldn’t give a shit about any of it.

You’re not in the financial field at all, much to your parents’ disappointment. It’d brought you out of favor with them, brought your siblings closer to each other.

You usually don’t come to these things, but tonight it talk of selling the entire company. Leaving it all behind, cashing in the lotto, and fucking off. Your family had convinced you to come- despite your clear dislike for everything finance and business, you still hold stock and stake in the company. You were also going to get a pretty penny from your inheritance, so it would be wise to judge your potential buyer alongside your family.

You’re getting ready in your childhood bedroom, pacing the carpet as you put the finishing touches on your outfit. Your father had made it very clear: your job was to root out intention, then act accordingly. Regardless of whether you thought the Roys were worthy of the company or not is irrelevant at this moment. You need to be intimidating.

Intimidating, but also hot. Just for yourself.

A soft knock sounds at your door. “It’s me,” your cousin calls from the hall.

“Come in,” you call back.

She waltzes in, her blouse billowing behind her as she deposits herself on your bed. “Dad’s going to have an aneurysm.”

Even though you already know the answer, you ask, “Why?” You lean against your desk, facing her.

She snorts, knowing you’re trying to push her buttons. “He wants the company, dipshit. I still think all if this is to get on our nerves.”

“A chimp would do better as CEO than any of you,” you say, scoffing. What had started out as what you thought was joking was turning into something else.

“So why won’t you do it, then?” she asks, bitterly. “I don’t see why it has to be either you or someone out of the family entirely.”

“I’m not doing it because I don’t want to. My siblings also just… have no interest. We’re all off to bigger, better things.”

The two of you stare at each other until your father’s yelling draws you both from your trance.

“Up and at ’em,” he’s saying, pretty much to himself, once you’re downstairs. You brush imaginary dust from your sleeves as you make the awkward walk to the helipad. You and your brother share an exasperated look. Despite the fact that you’d been wedged apart over the years, you and your siblings share a lot of the same views and opinions.

“All this peacocking is fucking insane,” he mutters to you once you’re stopped a safe distance away from the pad.

“Just wait until you see them,” you mutter back.

Even though you weren’t involved in the business side of the company, you’d still been involved. You’d gone to dinners, conferences, galas. You were a bit of an outside source, as you held no real position in the company, but you knew you were vital.

At almost every event where someone with your last name was required to attend, there was also a Roy. You’d only ever seen them, never spoken to them

You hear the helicopter before you see it. Sunglasses perched on your nose, you look up. As it descends, your hair and jacket are blown vigorously back, and your hand goes to your scalp. The generated wind is aggressive, slicing over your skin, your clothing. The sound is now deafening, and you notice your sister clamping her hands over her ears. Your father gives her a look, something along the lines of don’t look weak, and your sister rolls her eyes in response, mouthing fuck you.

You have to suppress your smile. The helicopter’s landed, and people are starting to pile out.

“Logan, old friend,” your dad bellows jovially. While the two families had never met, never been close, you know your father and Logan Roy were actually the best of friends. You don’t know how they met. Your father spoke of Logan from as far back as undergrad university.

Your father steps forward, meeting Logan halfway as he leads the rest of his family towards yours. They envelope each other in a hug, and your brother snorts. He’s the only one who’s ever interacted with the Roys.

“It’s like he has a multiple personality disorder,” he’d told you the other day, talking about the enigma that was the head of the other family. “One second he’s laughing, then the minute Dad’s out the room, the guy’s raging over his kids or the people not doing enough work or whatever the fuck else is wrong with that stupid fucking company.”

He turns from your father to your mother, murmuring a warm greeting, then to the row of you, your sister, and your brother.

“Oh, look at the three of you! All grown and radiant,” he says heartily. So far, he doesn’t seem like the demon your younger brother had described him to be. But you know well enough that looks can be deceiving. He opens his arms out to you first, since you’re the eldest of the three. You give him an awkward hug, his hand clapping over your back in a friendly manner. “If only any of my children had the sense to get with you,” he mutters conspiratorially, earning a chuckle from you. He pats your shoulder, before moving on to your brother.

Logan’s wife is next. “Marcia,” she murmurs softly to you, taking you by the shoulders and air-kissing both your cheeks. You return the gesture as she does it, making sure to stay smiling. It’s all a flurry of names you’re sure you’re going to forget the second you need them. Connor, Gerri, Willa, Frank, Rhea. It’s really all just a bunch of letters bouncing around in your head.

Who you’re sure you will remember, though, are the siblings. The younger three. The important ones, your dad liked to call them.

As all of the ‘adults’ convened to chat amongst themselves, like they did when you were children, you and your sister are having a quiet conversation about your work. She’s in the middle of asking you to come out to her office to help you with something when you feel a hand settle on your shoulder. You turn, coming eye to eye with Kendall Roy.

“Hi,” he says carefully, small smile playing on his lips. “I don’t think we’ve met?”

“No, we haven’t,” you say back. “Y/N.” You offer him your hand to shake, like your father expects you to do with everyone.

“Kendall.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say awkwardly. He manages a laugh, withdrawing his hand, his eyes flitting over your face.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, then, to, uh, put your name to your face.”

You’re not really sure what he means, but you don’t think you care that much.

“Move over, Kendall, you’re boring the shit out of her.” His brother comes over, bumping him with his hip. You have to stifle a laugh. “Roman.” You shake hands, offering him a polite smile. “He’s right, though. You’re a bit of a mystery to everyone.”

“Am I?” you ask, laughter seeping into your voice.

“Not to me.” Her voice is firm, clear. “I’m Shiv. I was at the conference you gave the Ethics presentation to. I know your work. My brothers are just stupid.”

You laugh for real this time. “Nice to meet you, Shiv. I’m familiar with your work, too. I’m just not so deep into the political sphere like you are.”

“I can help with that, you know,” she says, expression surprisingly soft. “I’ve been looking for someone that shares my opinions and… moral compass to work with. You need your rock, you know?”

The conglomerate of people slowly transitions inside. Roman and Kendall get roped into other conversations, your sister disappearing off to who knows where. You mill about in the dimly lit sitting room, watching everyone interact. Shiv’s still by your side.

“No offense, but I hate these things,” she says quietly, coming closer to you so you can hear.

You laugh lightly. “None taken.” You glance over at her to find that her eyes are already glued to you. You feel your face heat, her gaze flickering down your body before coming back up to your face. She has a sly smile on, but it’s quickly melting into one of real, soft emotion. You open your mouth to offer her something you’ll probably regret later, but are interrupted by your father clapping his hands together and waving everyone into the dining room. Instead, you give her an exasperated smile and follow the crowd.

Your father eyes you and your siblings as you all slip into your strategically chosen seats, making it so you’d all be surrounded by Roys. Your brother makes a face at you from the other side of the table. You ignore him, instead looking up at Shiv, who hovers by the chair at your left hand.

Almost shyly, she asks, “May I?”

“Please.”

A giddy smile spreads across her face as she sits, and you can’t help but mirror her expression. You look down into your plate, catching your sister’s gaze on you. Kendall takes the seat on your other side, Logan sitting directly across from you, right by your dad.

Roman and your brother are laughing over something as you get served the appetizer, your sister staring off into space while Connor talks at her rather than to her. Your mother speaks quietly with Marcia, and of course, your father and Logan are the loudest at the table, laughing and gesturing around.

Your cousin is on Kendall’s other side, overly-focused on her food. The conversation suddenly involves the entire table, Logan leaving forward. “What is it you do again, Y/N?”

You shrug lightly. “I work in media and risk analysis. Dabble a bit in economics.”

“So like Shiv?”

“Not really,” you and her say at the same time. You gesture with your fork, letting her continue.

“Our work certainly overlaps, and I’m glad it does,” she says, “but I’m more… political, she’s more… corporate.”

“If you dabbled in economics,” your cousin manages through gritted teeth, “we wouldn’t be here.”

“Neither would we if you did,” you retort calmly.

She scoffs. “I still don’t see why all of this is happening,” she says back, barely loud enough for everyone to hear. You look to your father, praying he’ll deal with it himself before she goes on some tirade, scaring off the buyer, but he makes no move. He simply glances at you, his gaze loaded.

Do it yourself.

You wait for a few moments, letting the tension strain the room. Maybe she’ll back off.

She doesn’t.

“The company is leaving family hands because of you, Y/N. It’s going to crash and burn because you refuse to fucking see what’s sitting in front of you.”

Logan’s lips press together into a thin line, and you know you have to recover. “I don’t want the company. Neither of my siblings want it. Don’t you think it’s a little telling you’re the only one lusting after it so loudly?”

“I don’t see what that has to say about me.”

“You want it, and you’re not getting it,” you say firmly. “You’re incompetent. The Roy name is not.”

Dinner is only silent for so much longer. Your brother, at his breaking point, asks loudly, “Why are you even here? You blew the Pierce deal. Fuck off.” Your father hisses something into your brother’s ear. He scoffs in response. “I’m sick of it, Dad. The three of us bust our asses to get this to go well for you and she gets to waltz in, do whatever the fuck she wants whenever the fuck she wants.” He quickly pushes back his chair from the table and makes his way out of the dining room.

Clearly, this is deeper than one stupid comment made at the dinner table. You throw a questioning glance at your sister. She gives a minute shake of her head. She doesn’t know.

Dramatically, your cousin follows your brother out. Roman is trying not to laugh, and all of a sudden, your father and Logan aren’t in the mood they were before.

You turn to Shiv, exasperated. She’s also stuffing a laugh down, and it’s contagious. “Is my juvenile family drama amusing to you?” you murmur to her questioningly, the soft clink of silverware and terse chatter filling the room.

“Yeah,” she says, nearly choking on a laugh. “This is so fucking stupid. How do you deal with it?”

“I never stay home.” You down the rest of the water in your glass.

“Hey, uh, Y/N,” Kendall begins, leaning towards you as you turn to face him. “I just wanted to say, I get how it feels.” He gestures vaguely around. “So if you want to, um, get some air after, I’d love to join you.”

You thank him sincerely, giving him a soft smile. Dessert finally comes out. You’re almost there. You turn back to Shiv, but she’s conversing with whoever’s on her other side, to your disappointment. You eat your cheesecake in silence, Roman catching your eye and giving you a wink. You didn’t know people actually did that, but he pulled it off nicely, you think.

When your father finally gets up, ushering everyone into the sitting room for drinks and chatter, you heave a sigh of relief. You trail behind the crowd, hoping to be able to slip away on your own.

You succeed. You sigh up at the high vaulted ceiling, padding towards the grand staircase up to your room.

“Hey, where’re you going?” comes a soft voice. You turn, Shiv, hurrying after you.

“Escaping,” you say jokingly, pausing on the stairs, letting her catch up to you.

“Can I come?”

“Yeah. You can.”

The sight of her sitting cross-legged on your bed does something to you. It sucks all the air from your body. But maybe that was just the sight of her.

"Your brother okay?" she asks, looking up at you.

"He'll be fine. Everyone's just a bit tense."

"Just so you know, your cousin's temper tantrum doesn't change anything."

"I'd hope it didn't."

"What would change things though," she tells you, "is whether you want to come on once we buy the company."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I was serious when I was talking about how I need someone in my corner."

"What do you mean?"

"It's me. The company gets handed to me."

"Congratulations, Shiv. But really, I want nothing to do with it."

"I'd be running things. You'd just be my right hand woman. The very attractive right hand woman that I see every day."

You laugh, unable to suppress the grin splitting your face.

“My cousin’ll murder me,” you manage to say.

“So? Let her try. Not like you’ll go down or anything.” She smiles up at you. “I think that’s hot. You’re hot.”

Silence stretches between the two of you, both of you grinning at each other.

“You’re really pretty,” you breathe, believing she followed you for a reason.

“I’m glad you think so.” Her hands come to cup your jaw in the few instances it takes you to cross the room, slide onto your bed, and kiss her. “God, you’re so… so fucking gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” you ask against her lips, peppering gentle kisses onto them. “Stay the night.”

“I told everyone I went home,” she says, giggling.

Your hand flits to her hip, rubbing soothingly. Your kisses are slow, tender. You’re both enjoying yourselves. It feels so real. It feels like something more.

You slide off of her, off the bed, eliciting a whine from her pretty mouth. “Just locking the door, baby.”

You wake up, head buried in her chest. She’d borrowed some pajamas of yours, the shirt a soft cotton. Her breathing is light and airy, and it’s music to your ears. Her fingers are threaded in the hair at your scalp, her arm thrown over your back.

You drift in and out of consciousness until she wakes up, pressing kisses along your forehead. Shiv sits up, letting you stay settled in her lap. You press a hot kiss to her bare thigh, shorts hiked up her legs.

“You know,” she says, after a short while of silence, “Ken and Roman were drooling over you all night.”

You snort. “Were they?”

“I know them. They were. And here I am,” she says, satisfied with herself.

You let out an airy laugh. “Here you are.”

“I was drooling, too,” she admits.

“Can we stop talking about saliva?”

She pinches your ass, to which you don’t dignify with a reaction, instead smiling into her thigh. “I wanna keep seeing you.”

“I have to fly out to Italy for some work. Maybe I want you to come with me.”

“God, I love women.” Her hand cards through your hair. “Mind if I take a picture? I want to send it to my brothers.”

“Perv,” you mutter, but nod anyway. You smile at the camera from her thigh, pressing a searing kiss to the place where her leg meets her hip the moment she hits the button.

It captures her beautiful face in an ecstatic smile, yours in soft affection as you look up at her, not the camera.

#shiv roy #siobhan roy #shiv roy x you #shiv roy x reader #shiv roy x fem!reader #succession #succession hbo #succession fic #wambsgansshoelaces #succession x reader #anon ask #shiv roy oneshot #shiv roy fluff

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oftenwantedafton · 4 months

Text

Night Shift - Steve Raglan/William Afton x Mike Schmidt x Female Reader

Chapter 3

Rating - Explicit

Warning for sexual content, dub con, bisexual characters

Also available on AO3

Seated in the quiet dark of Mike Schmidt’s sedan outside of your apartment, you can still feel Steve Raglan.

The scent of him clings to you and your boyfriend’s bodies. You can taste yourself because he’d placed that flavor there with his incessant tongue and ardent fingers.

Your hands are balled into fists on your lap to conceal the violent tremor of desire that still wracks through you. You feel like an addict that’s gotten another hit, finding it dangerously insufficient; your brain chemistry already altered so you need a higher dosage of depravity.

“Just tell me one thing.”

You glance at the young man seated beside you, resisting the urge to seize his mouth and search for more of the older man’s essence that he’s left behind.

“We’re doing this because we have to, right? For Abby?”

“Of course.” The lie slips between you, a fragile bit of sound.

***

Another evening, you’ve burned dinner in your distraction and Mike waves your apologies away, ordering pizza and rummaging through a stack of DVD’s while you watch his sister color, selecting a bright shade of yellow to fill in the anthropomorphic rabbit she’s just drawn.

“Who’s that?”

Abby shrugs, her soft brown curls swinging slightly with the movement. “I don’t know his name. My friends tell me about him. He’s really nice. He likes pizza, too.”

You smile, remembering Mike had mentioned his sibling’s imaginary friends previously.

“He does look friendly. I like his purple bow tie.”

The young girl finishes coloring in the last of the rabbit’s long limbs and slides the picture across the kitchen table to you.

“You can have it if you want. I have plenty more.”

“Thanks, Abby. I’m going to put this on the fridge when I get home.”

“Abs, we need to clear the table,” Mike calls over his shoulder as he moves to answer the doorbell.

You help the child slot the tubes of paper wrapped wax back inside their container while she unwinds some paper towels from their spool.

“Not too much. Save some for another day,” Mike reprimands gently, setting the pizza box on the counter. He rests a hand on the small of your back as you reach for a stack of plates in the cabinet, all three pieces of dinnerware mismatched, orphans from various sets. “You’re so good with her,” he murmurs.

“She’s a great kid.”

He presses his lips against your hair in a gentle kiss.

“Ew, gross.”

You smile, moving to lift the lid of the corrugated cardboard box and challenge Abby to select her first slice on the count of three, laughing when she chooses the largest piece, dripping bits of cheese and toppings before her selection reaches the plate.

By the time the comedy movie Mike’s selected reaches the halfway point, Abby loses interest and retreats to her room, leaving the two of you alone. He draws small circles with his thumb on your shoulder, cradling you against him. He lifts the opposite wrist and curses when he sees the sequence of numbers on the digital display.

“I’ve got to get ready for work soon.”

“It’s ok.” You straighten up in your seat. “This was fun.”

“I appreciate you staying the night to babysit. I don’t know what happened to Max. She won’t answer the phone,” he says, referring to the young woman that usually watches his sister when he’s away.

“It’s no problem, really.”

“You’re the best.” He kisses your forehead.

“You can kiss me on the lips you know. I’m okay,” you assure him. Ever since the night at the movie theater, Mike had seemed to be reluctant to do so.

“Yeah, I…I’m trying. I don’t want everything tainted by Raglan.”

You’d been very purposefully keeping yourself distracted from thinking about Steve, but here he was, intruding into your lives again with just the mere mention of his name.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. It’s so fucked up.” He scrubs at his hair, mussing the chocolate curls. “I should never have had you come to work with me. All of this is my fault.”

“Hey. I don’t blame you for anything, okay?” You reach for his hand and squeeze it.

“The shit he makes us do…”

You firmly resolve not to think about it. “We’re going to get through this.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

He rests his forehead on yours, hesitating before his lips tentatively brush against your mouth in a chaste gesture of affection. You respond with a firmer one of your own, hearing his inhale of desire.

“Ugh, you’re doing that again?”

You both jump, startled to see Abby standing in the doorway leading to the living room. Mike frowns, releasing you and standing up.

“I’m going to go get ready. You need to go brush your teeth,” he reminds his sibling as he walks past her.

“I’ll do it in a minute.” She bounces on the vacated seat next to you. “You really like my brother, huh?”

“I do.” You nod, lifting the remote and aiming it at the television set, the lit screen extinguished.

“He likes you a lot. I can tell.”

“You think so?” You comb your fingers through her curls affectionately.

“Mmm-hmm. My friends told me.”

You blink, surprised. “They did?”

“Yeah. They said the yellow rabbit likes you, too.”

Frowning, your hand stills. “I don’t understand. I’ve never seen him before you drew me the picture tonight.”

She shrugs. “That’s what they said. I’m gonna go brush my teeth now.” She slides off the couch, leaving you to ponder the strange conversation.

It’s just her imagination, you think. Perfectly normal for someone her age.

Mike reappears, shrugging into an oversized ink colored vest with a bright SECURITY logo decorating the right shoulder.

“I just got her tucked in. I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll make us breakfast. Probably safer for everyone, you know?”

“Hey! I can cook. That was an accident.” You slap his arm playfully.

“Sure. I’ve gotta get going.” He wraps his arms around you, his mouth more confident on yours this time.

“Have a good shift. Be careful,” you add, thinking of the many staring eyes of the cameras mounted throughout the abandoned pizzeria, their gaze reflected back to the cramped security office with its clusters of monitors that keep their dark secrets.

You tidy up the kitchen before bed, your fingers hesitating over the crayon illustration Abby had created for you earlier.

The yellow rabbit likes you, too.

***

Mike comes home the next morning looking exhausted, carrying a box of donuts and a tray with a pair of paper cups.

You fold your arms, scowling. “I thought you were making breakfast. That’s cheating.”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m not up for cooking today. Another day for sure.” He sets everything down on the counter.

“I’m only teasing. How bad was it?”

He shrugs, yawning. “It was okay. Abs up yet?”

“Yes she’s dressed, I just helped her with her hair.”

“Thanks, babe.” He turns his face, his voice louder as he calls for his sister. “Abby! We’ve got to leave in twenty minutes!” He removes a gallon of orange juice from the refrigerator, shaking it before he pulls the top off and fills a glass for his sibling.

“I could take her to school. I’m sure you want to crash.”

“Nah, it’s okay. You do too much as it is. Abs! Donuts!”

His sister seems to materialize out of thin air, bounding into the kitchen.

“Yeah I thought that would get your attention.”

“Did you get sprinkles?”

“Have a look.”

She tears the sticker sealing the box shut and lifts the lid, squealing in delight and grabbing a glazed donut drizzled in pink icing and covered in colored confetti sugar strands.

“Hot chocolate okay?” He hands you one of the cups and you nod gratefully.

“That’s perfect, thank you.” You remove the lid and blow on the steaming liquid, studying the array of pastries before selecting one dipped in chocolate.

Abby’s donut disappears alarmingly fast and she takes a few sips of her juice, declaring she’s ready to leave.

“She’s going to have a sugar rush now. Her poor teacher,” Mike mumbles, snatching his keys off the counter. “I’ll be back soon.”

You watch the pair leave, sipping on the warm beverage for a few minutes before deciding to get started on cleaning.

You’d noticed last night that Mike had more dirty clothes on the floor in the bedroom again; using a laundry hamper just didn’t seem to be a priority for him. You shake your head in mock disgust, collecting the random scattered garments, adding them one by one to a growing pile in the basket, pausing when you notice something shoved under the bed, one corner of a dress shirt barely sticking out. Mike had probably kicked it by mistake in his hurry to get ready, you figure, snatching at the fabric, about to toss it into the bin when you freeze.

It’s the shirt he had worn on your date at the movie theater.

It positively reeks of Raglan’s cologne and you inhale sharply, your pussy instantly throbbing. You’d been doing so well barricading the older man from your thoughts, enjoying the domestic moments with your boyfriend, but here he was tearing back through that blockade like it was made of tissue paper.

There’s a suspicious stain near the hem of the charcoal button front shirt and you hate that no matter which man the jizz belongs to, you find it horribly erotic.

Your hand lifts the shirt to your lips, Steve’s scent heaviest by the collar, and it’s all you can do to refrain from shoving your hand inside your panties right then and there.

“Hey babe, I’m back! Where’d you—” Mike is about to enter the room when he jerks to a halt just outside the doorway, staring at you rapturously inhaling his shirt, the words dying on his lips.

The security guard’s mouth parts, his breathing suddenly harsh, shoulders rising and falling in rapid succession as his lungs struggle to find more air.

He crosses the room faster than you’d thought possible given his short stature, fingers curling over the shirt but not tugging, keeping the fabric trapped between you as he pushes you against the wall.

The renewed handling of the material releases more of the career counselor’s scent into the air around the pair of you, cruelly teasing you, challenging you to imagine his presence beside you. Mike grabs your free hand and presses it to his crotch and fuck, he’s so hard already, straining against his fly. You’ve never seen him aggressive like this, so out of control, pupils blown with desire, the rough chafe of the hair lining his jaw scraping you when his mouth finds your throat, the shirt trapped just beneath, as if he’s kissing both you and Steve at the same time.

The phone rings, startling both of you. Mike jerks back, looking surprised to find himself in this situation, struggling to regain his composure, answering the phone somewhat breathlessly while you let the shirt drop back to the floor, your heart thudding in your chest, an echoing heartbeat in the crease between your thighs.

“Hello? What? No, I was…out running.” He sinks onto the bed. “What? No, I’m sure I locked the doors. Yes, the gate too. Fuck.” He drags a hand through his hair.

“Mike, who is it? What happened?” You sit beside him.

He mouths the name Steve and your stomach flutters.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll come down right now.” He slots the phone back on the receiver and turns to face you. “Someone broke into Freddy’s. They trashed it.”

“What?!” You gasp, covering your mouth.

“The owner wants to report it to the police. Raglan’s trying to talk him out of it.”

He stares at you, the implication of what that meant very transparent.

“We have to go.”

He drags a hand against his thigh nervously, as if just touching the phone that he’d used to communicate with the older man had sullied him.

“There’s never going to be an end to this at this rate. He’s just going to keep blackmailing us.”

“Maybe he made it up? What if it’s just a trick to get us to go there?”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s legit. He sounded furious. And I swear I locked up. I know I’m tired but I wouldn’t have forgotten that.”

“I believe you.”

He sighs shakily. “I wish I’d never met him. You have no idea how much I regret going to that office.”

“I know,” you say, your eyes finding the crumpled dress shirt on the floor and you wonder if he truly regrets it as much as he says.

***

From the outside of the building, you don’t see any destruction that’s immediately obvious.

The interior tells a far different story.

Mike holds out an arm to bar your path, cautioning you about the broken glass littering the floor. The sunlight that struggles to filter through the glass front doors falls on scattered tokens from the tipped over change machines, making the gold coins glint on the confetti printed carpet.

“Christ,” the security guard swears, head swiveling to assess the damage. The cases for the pinball machines are shattered, the prize counter reduced to pulverized shards of glass. Chairs are knocked down and tables overturned, the long forgotten salt and pepper shakers and laminated menus now decorating the dining room floor.

The door slams behind you and you turn to see Steve standing there, crossing the room swiftly with several long legged strides, ignoring the glass that crunches beneath his feet.

“Hello, sweetheart.” He tosses the greeting to you without so much as glancing at you, his pale eyes glaring at the man standing beside you. “Look at this mess.”

“I promise I locked the doors,” he protests.

“Well they clearly found another way in. And I doubt they broke inside during broad daylight. So what were you doing this time instead of watching the monitors?”

“I swear I was watching. I didn’t see anything.”

“The damage in this room alone is going to cost a lot to repair. There are a lot of unique items that are vintage. Irreplaceable.” He gestures towards the destruction and chaos.

Mike gulps. “I’m sure we could work something out. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s even been using this stuff. It’s just sitting here collecting dust…”

Raglan takes a threatening step towards Mike, each word he issues clipped, his ire barely held in check. “This is someone’s personal property. It doesn’t belong to you. It’s not up to you to decide its value. You’re being paid to prevent things like this from happening.”

“I’m sorry,” your boyfriend says helplessly.

“That apology doesn’t sound very sincere, Mike. I think we’d better see how bad the damage is elsewhere.” He brushes past you, shoving at the Employees Only door.

You trail after him, Mike’s hand clammy and cold in yours as he escorts you through the same passage illuminated by the emergency lights.

The career counselor veers to the right, bringing you into a large kitchen area. A fan built into the wall across from you turns lazily, making a soft whirring noise. There are pans and dishes and pizza boxes scattered everywhere, steel shelving knocked to the black and white checkered linoleum flooring. Steve kicks at a stray pot with disgust. “Absolutely ruined.”

“I’ll clean it all up,” Mike says hurriedly.

“Of course you will. That’s part of your job description after all. You’re supposed to be keeping the place tidy. Which still doesn’t cancel out the damages or count as an apology, might I add.” He removes his glasses, setting them down on a free space amid the clutter on the counter. “Come here, beautiful.”

“I’ll help him,” you blurt out.

“No. This is his mistake. He’s got to learn his lesson. Actions have consequences. Come here,” he says again, more firmly this time, and you feel your feet moving, unable to resist the command. “Have you missed me, honey?” he murmurs, wrapping one arm around your waist and dragging you against him. He’s always so warm, borderline feverish beneath his clothing; you can feel it sizzling just beneath the surface.

Mike glowers but begins picking things up when Steve’s eyes snap back to him warningly.

The older man tucks his fingers underneath your chin and lifts your face up. Without the glasses he looks so different, those wide eyes even more intimidating without the lenses to shield them. You could drown in those pools of ice.

His mouth covers yours and your hand reflexively clasps the back of his neck. For a moment you forget about Mike completely, forget there is anything in the world other than the hungry lips moving against yours, the muscle thrust between them stroking your tongue, the arousal that had begun earlier reignited with a fury.

“You did miss me,” he whispers when you part for air, and you don’t deny it. “I didn’t say you could stop,” his voice hardens, directed at your boyfriend.

Mike slams a tray further down on the steel counter and Steve abruptly releases you, lunging for him instead. His fingers grab a fistful of the shorter man’s shirt, shoving him against the hard surface, sending more cookware scattering. “What’s the matter, Mike? Upset your girlfriend is getting some action? Or maybe you’re jealous that you’re not getting any of that attention. You’ve had a hard on ever since I walked into the restaurant.”

“Fuck you.” He spits, saliva landing on the corner of Steve’s mouth.

You gasp, thinking Raglan will strike your boyfriend for sure, the sound evolving to something needier when you see Steve drag his fingers through the fluid, grinning darkly before he clutches a fistful of brown curls and jerks Mike’s head back. He licks his way inside his mouth and you hear the younger man moan.

“Wouldn’t you just love to?” Steve muses, reaching for the fly of Mike’s work pants.

Another groan escapes when those deft fingers work their way inside the younger man’s boxers, stroking Mike’s leaking cock briefly before he releases him, stepping back.

“Let’s clear a space for your girlfriend. Over here, sweetheart.” You move forward as the career counselor sweeps an arm over the steel surface, sending the remaining items to the floor with a loud clatter. He unfastens your jeans and shoves them down at the same time as your panties, then lifts you up so you’re seated on the edge of the counter, dragging the rest of your clothing free.

“This too,” he murmurs by your ear, tugging on the hem of your shirt, indicating for you to pull it over your head, the bra soon following. You’re completely nude now, exposed before Steve’s ravenous gaze, shivering from the metallic surface touching your skin and the anticipation of the older man’s next move.

“Lay back, honey.” You lower your torso, fingers clutching the edges of the counter for balance, Raglan’s broad hand snaking around to support the movement so you land gently. He drags a calloused hand over one breast, trailing down to your navel, stroking small circles around the divoted space before he bends to kiss you, his mouth following all the places his hand had just been.

He hovers just above your mound, his breath tickling your skin before he gently wedges a hand between your clamped thighs, prying them apart, the tensed limbs falling slack. He hisses appreciatively, kneels down and slides his tongue between your lips in a brief teasing lick and your back arches off the counter.

“You’re completely soaked, sweetheart. You’ve been looking forward to this, haven’t you?” He plants a kiss on the inside of one thigh, turning his face slightly to address the man standing behind him. “Are you going to just stand and watch, or are you going to help your girlfriend out? Not that I’d mind keeping you all to myself.” His lips hum by the fork of your legs and you shiver, squirming restlessly, eager for more contact.

Mike’s face appears and you crane your neck in time to see him flick his tongue over your clit.

Your head snaps back and you whimper, the sound overly loud in the spacious kitchen. You feel a finger at your entrance and instantly recognize it as Steve’s, the long digit slipping inside and curling expertly, tearing another sound of pleasure from you.

“I don’t know how you stand having this around you all the time, Mike. My face would be permanently buried between these thighs,” the career counselor mutters, working the finger in and out while your boyfriend’s tongue strokes over your pussy.

You could cum right then, but you refuse to let yourself get off so easily, wanting to prolong the feeling. A second finger joins the first, scissoring within your tunnel, Mike’s mouth sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves swollen and erect against his tongue.

You hear your boyfriend moan and think Steve must be touching him again with his free hand. His head lifts, smeared with your juices, the hand that had been curled supportively around one thigh abandoning you in favor of winding Raglan’s tie around his fist and dragging his mouth to his. The fingers working inside of you move more insistently, bringing you closer to release. The sight of the two men kissing so heatedly sends you careening over the edge, your hips rocking wildly against the older man’s hand.

Steve breaks the kiss so he can reward your dripping cunt with one instead. “You’re so fucking delicious. Such a good girl.” The praise sends a spear of warmth through you.

He stands up, using the table for balance, immediately reaching once more for Mike’s cock, squeezing the base. “Not yet,” he cautions, his other hand jerking the younger man’s face up. “You don’t get to cum just yet.” His next kiss is rough, sucking loudly, teeth pulling Mike’s bottom lip until they release the flesh with a loud pop. He glances at your form still lying on the edge of the counter. “You haven’t fucked her yet, have you?”

You can see Mike’s jaw tighten, a blend of anger and frustration. “No,” he says quietly.

“Didn’t think so. Well, let’s change that, shall we?” He pushes Mike between your legs, one hand still firmly clenching the base of his cock, holding him just shy of your opening. Your boyfriend’s hands clutch your hips as Steve moves to the side and guides him forward, helping him fuck into you.

Mike grunts at the feeling of your wet pussy greeting him, hips automatically snapping forward to bury himself deeper inside, halted by the frustrating barrier Steve’s hand provides.

“Gently, Mike. She’s still recovering. Feels like heaven though, doesn’t it?” He reaches for your breast, fondling the nipple. Every time your boyfriend moves it brings Raglan’s hand with it, the contact between the three of you heightened. You thread your fingers through those still caressing your breast, your eyes meeting his.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Raglan’s voice is so tender, so at odds with the hard snap of Mike’s pelvis against your body, his pace quickening. You don’t even know how to phrase it; if the vocabulary for it has been invented yet. Your entire body feels magma hot, senseless liquid around Mike’s impatiently driving prick. Steven lifts your fingers to his face and kisses the inside of your wrist, his tongue tracing circles along your pulse point and you feel yourself shatter. He releases his hold of Mike’s cock and thrusts the fingers between the younger man’s lips, letting him lap at the taste of both of you.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Mike announces, his movements more frantic now that he has better access, your still spasming canal massaging him, wringing out his orgasm.

Steve shoves the younger man out of the way, kneeling down, his mouth back at your entrance, sucking and licking Mike’s cum back out of you.

You watch him bring that mouthful back to its owner, jerking his head back roughly and spearing his mouth open, seed spilling back onto Mike’s tongue. He moans when your boyfriend tears at the zipper of his trousers, shoving his fingers over his dripping cock, sending the older man over the edge.

***

“You can start cleaning up tonight,” Steve says, the first words spoken since the three of you had hastily cleaned up in the restroom before exiting the building. He tugs on the handle of the driver’s side door, his gaze alternating between Mike and then you.

“You’re going to convince the owner not to file a police report, right?”

The career counselor’s lips twitch slightly as he reaches for the glasses tucked into his shirt pocket. “Sure, sweetheart.” His eyes flick back to the security guard. “You should go home and get some sleep. You have a long, busy night ahead of you.”

Mike nods, sliding behind the wheel and slamming the door. You hesitate, fingers running absently over a spot of rust on the frame of your boyfriend’s sedan, unable to look away from the prison of Raglan’s stare.

The small, secret smile returns, making something flutter inside of you.

#william afton x you #william afton x reader #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x reader

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randombush3 · 1 year

Text

Good In Bed

florence pugh x footballer!reader

summary: it’s just sex. Based on Good In Bed by Dua Lipa.

words: 3216

warnings: mentions of sex, toxic relationships

notes: here’s my compensation for the radio silence. is this more about football than florence? possibly. is it angsty? yes. but don’t be discouraged. read it!

p.s. i have no idea what team flo’s family support. i refuse to believe it’s Oxford United. (it probably is.)

Florence tries hard not to be surprised that you’ve woken up in her bed. She can’t let you think she wasn’t in control of the situation. One of the rules involved always being in control of the situation. The other rule included not staying the night, but it seems that was forgotten quickly after the third orgasm. Waking up beside you is a first, but there have been close calls before. None have made her feel as uneasy as the real thing.

Your alarm is stupid, she thinks to herself, becoming even more annoyed when she rolls over to face you and you’re out cold. The covers don’t wedge enough distance between your bodies. She is not about to reach over your naked self to turn your irritating alarm off. She doesn’t want to touch you. (It’s silly — she spent the whole night doing just that.)

Instead, she says your name; first softly, but then louder and closer to your ear. You don’t stir. She sighs. “Can you turn your fucking alarm off.” It’s not a question, it’s a command. You shake your head with your eyes closed and move closer to her, burying your face into the soft skin of her neck. The woman underneath you stiffens because she’s not supposed to find you so fucking adorable and the warmth suddenly surges out of your body.

“Oh, fuck.” You jolt upright, trying not to smirk as the covers come with you and leave Florence very bare. “You’re not a fan of One Direction?”

Drag Me Down plays on loop.

“Of course not.” It’s a lie, but you’ll never get to know her well enough to find that out. “You have somewhere to be,” she deduces. No one sets an alarm for six in the morning just for the fun of it. Or maybe you do. She wouldn’t know.

“Yes. Training.” You turn to her, and she catches a glimmer of hope in your eyes, but it morphs into something unreadable the minute you catch the expression she’s giving you in return. She looks kind of… angry. “I just need to…”

“You’re not going to find your clothes here,” Florence states, pretending to be very composed about the whole thing. “Unless you’d like to train in that obnoxious Hawaiian shirt you wore yesterday?”

“No, I’ve got to get my kit. It’s… God, I live on the other side of London, Flo.” You display a shocking lack of resilience. It’s uncharacteristic. Or maybe it isn’t — she wouldn’t know. “I should just not go,” you mumble, flopping backwards onto the bed. Your hand reaches out and settles confidently on her neck, and she hisses as your thumb brushes a developing bruise. It’s one of many. “Do you want me to go?”

Yes.

No.

She doesn’t know.

You’re too good in bed for her to think straight.

“Is training that important?”

You shrug. “They signed me for another two years. I’m sure they won’t mind if I give it a miss.” She trails her hand up your stomach, splaying out her fingers across your skin as if to keep you in place. It’s a sudden change of heart. “You should come to a match some time. I can prove that I’m not just all talk.”

“Ask me again after an orgasm,” she whispers, and you are quickly devoted to getting her there.

- - -

“Look who decided to show up!” Katie shouts, drawing everyone’s attention from the drill to the sight of you in your sliders. You left Florence’s flat at seven, got to yours at half past eight, and then decided that rushing wasn’t going to be worth it.

You even got a coffee on the way.

“L/n,” Jonas calls. He looks a bit more than unimpressed. You drop your duffel bag, and bin the empty Costa cup.

“Yes, sir,” you reply, staring him down, a hint of amusement present in your voice. Jonas usually isn’t deterred by your ego.

“You received the details of what time training started, yes?” You nod. “And you are not injured so the exceptions did not apply to you, yes?” The girls pretend to not be watching, but the effort put into the drills drops from one hundred percent to fifty. “Training is not optional. Hard work is not optional. You were late.”

“I didn’t wake up in my own bed,” you state rather bluntly. Because the girls aren’t listening, they don’t suddenly have fifty-two thousand questions. “It was unexpected.”

Jonas shakes his head. He is not going to berate you like you are a teenager, but you are not being let off. “Twenty laps. Ten at a sprint.”

“Yes, sir.” You shoot him a grin, and stalk off to the changing rooms.

Your phone buzzes as you lace up your boots; an invitation to come over later. She’s having a stressful day. You don’t think you mind being Florence Pugh’s stress ball.

Katie sidles up to you, a glint in her eyes that promises nothing short of an interrogation.

“Aren’t you supposed to be training?” you ask uninterestedly, slipping your phone into your bag and zipping it up. Katie notices. It’s suspicious.

“I’m getting the train to Birmingham later. Got permission to leave early.” Her lips twitch at the thought of seeing her girlfriend, and then she presses them together in an inquisitive smirk. A smirk reserved for discussing your sex (love) life. “Who was it?”

“Who wasn’t it?”

“Hopefully not Ruesha,” she quips. You roll your eyes. “How come you went out last night without me?”

“I have other friends.”

“No, you don’t.”

You’re not about to tell her this wasn’t a one night stand. She can’t have the satisfaction. She’ll fancy herself the next Sherlock Holmes.

Katie sits beside you and nudges your shoulder. “You didn’t get a booty call, did you?”

“No!” you say a little too quickly, pulling hard on the knot you’re tying. At her pointed look you add, “No, it wasn’t… It’s not like that.”

“You’re fucking someone?” You shouldn’t squirm under the weight of that sentence, but you do. “You’re dating her?”

“Not dating.” You don’t have to say that it’s the former.

“Okay, so my best friend is getting it on with someone. It’s not like you to be so secretive about your conquests.”

Wincing slightly, you stand up to leave. “She’s not a conquest, Katie.”

She’s not. It’s different. It’s not like that.

- - -

The next game you have ends with you feeling like you could absolutely beat the shit out of someone. Your scowl is determined to stay put, even after you’re given player of the match. In fact, that just makes everything worse.

You march your way back to the locker room with unyielding determination to get the fuck out of here. No one blocks your war path, even if a few of your bravest teammates trail after you. They all jump as you slam the door shut, and agree that going back to the pitch for a natter with their friends on the other team would make for better conversation than whatever you’d fire at them.

Your fist connects with the wall but you barely register how much it hurts. You just played the game of your life — a game in which she promised to watch. She fucking promised.

Anger clouds your judgement as you dial her number. You never really use it unless you’re telling her to come over or asking what she’s wearing. You’re not supposed to use it for anything other than that. She made that clear.

“Hey?” She sounds like she’s on set. You ignore the background noise that tells you she couldn’t possibly have made it because you’re not going to make excuses for her. “I’m at work. I can’t talk—”

“Let’s get to the point. You love to disappoint me, don’t you?” You put the phone on speaker as you strip off your kit. The seams rip, the telltale sound echoing through the empty locker room, but you carry on with full force and decide that you don’t want the shirt from this match anyway. “You tell me what I want but you don’t fucking follow through.”

“Is this because I didn’t make it to your stupid match?” Her tone is unbothered, disinterested.

“You agreed to come!” She had been the one to suggest it, actually. The night before, when you’d been a hurricane through her flat trying to find the clothes that had been thrown across the floor of various rooms, she had pulled on a t-shirt and placed a hand on your shoulder, and then told you she’d be there today. “I think if you knew me, you’d understand me better,” you mutter.

“I think it’s better if I don’t get to know you.” It feels a bit like a punch to the gut. You’re okay with friends-with-benefits, but Florence doesn’t even want to be friends. There’s a pause. Florence shoots her assistant a glare as the poor girl tries to tell her she’s wanted for a scene. “Congrats on the win tonight. I’ll see you later?”

You swallow whatever response your brain originally forms, “yeah. I’ll bring Chinese.” And somehow you don’t feel angry with her anymore.

How the fuck do you not feel angry anymore?

“Calmed down?” Beth asks softly. You’re not sure how long she’s been standing there, but hopefully she didn’t witness your little tantrum. “Katie told me you were…”

“It’s just sex.”

“Is it?”

You want to die so that this conversation ends. “Not all of us are capable of having what you have,” you snap, and she steps back. You run a hand through your sweaty hair. “Please can we not talk about this.”

Beth nods and you realise she’s been sent in to test the waters. As soon as the team feel you’re not about to murder her, they filter in as naturally as possible.

No one comments on the busted knuckles of your right hand.

They congratulate each other about the game, patting you on the back if they’re bold enough. Katie and Jordan change either side of you, gushing over everything that went well. It reminds you to tap into the winner’s high stored somewhere beneath the feeling of impending doom. The doom sounds an awful lot like Florence saying ‘I think it’s better if I don’t get to know you’, but you decide to pretend it’s a little drum with no words and no face. Not her words, not her face.

“You alright there, Y/n?” Jordan’s smile pulls you back to a conversation you hardly had any part in. “We were just saying we should go out to celebrate.” The door opens, and the irrational part of you imagines Florence walking through it. Jonas is there in the doorway. “Once we’ve all been told how we can do better, course.”

“Party at Jordan’s place?” someone, maybe Rafa, shouts loudly. The changing room is buzzing with excitement, and Jordan flushes red at the thought.

“Ballie Ballerson is good,” you say above the noise. It changes the location as desired.

“Thanks,” Jordan says, sighing in relief. “Fancy coming over for a drink before we meet the others?”

Jonas is gearing up for a speech. You won’t have to be in a room full of people who care about you for much longer. People caring about you has always made you feel a little uncomfortable.

“I’ve actually got, uh, plans. Sorry, Jords.” You grab your stuff and hurry towards the door, meaning you can run away from everyone as soon as Jonas moves.

“She’s got a new fuck-buddy,” Katie explains quietly. “Beth thinks she’s got a crush on said fuck-buddy.”

“What do you think?”

Katie glances at you, assessing how restless you look. You remind her of a skittish cat hiding behind a wheelie bin before it can make a break for it.

“This girl is lucky to have her in whatever capacity she’s got.”

Jordan laughs. “You think she’s messing with her head, don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” Ruesha had warned Katie that it would turn into a complete disaster before Katie had finished updating her. “The whole thing is going to blow up in her face.”

- - -

You start to wake up in Florence’s bed more often than not.

Half the time you’re not sure how you got there, having vivid memories of arguments fresh in your mind. There’s talking it out, and fucking it out. Florence and you seem to not know the former exists.

It’s not a relationship.

It’s not a real relationship, at least.

She asked you to join her evening with her friends once, but you didn’t make it out of her apartment. You don’t dare invite her to another game.

There’s nothing remotely close to an emotional connection.

Apart from when everything gets a little too soft and she reaches out to stroke your cheek before she kisses you. Or when you don’t start tearing off each other’s clothes immediately, instead asking genuine questions about each other’s days.

Then there’s the one time she turns up outside your door fully intending to have her feelings fucked out of her, but finds herself crumpling into your comforting embrace and sobbing about nothing in particular. You take her to your sofa and hold her until the crying stops. You fall asleep on the sofa with her on top of you, blanket pulled protectively over the tangle of limbs and mess of emotions.

You score two goals and get three assists in the match the day after. Despite the dull ache of your back. A rumour spreads through the team like wildfire: you’ve got yourself a girlfriend.

It takes three days for her to push however that night made her feel down into the dark depths of the memories she won’t relive.

The fourth day blows up in her face.

You’re tired of being ignored. You shout at her. You shout so loudly she looks terrified.

She hates that the only thing she wants to do after your voice cracks and you start to lose it is to push you against the wall and sink to her knees, but she does it anyway.

You drive each other mad, but it must be what makes you good in bed.

You spend a lot of time in bed. The girls notice. They start to tease you about the purple bruises on your collarbones. They play a game: how many orgasms did you have the night before? It depends on your performance. Jen and Stina decide that it equals the number of goals you score that match. You’re insulted that they underestimate your stamina like that, but remain quiet and passive.

Katie starts talking about you to Leah. If anyone can knock some sense into you, it’s Leah. Your respect for her is enough to quell whatever egotistical ideas are preventing you from seeing how toxic your little situation has become.

Leah asks you who you’re sleeping with. Nonchalantly, you tell her it’s an actress. It takes all of five minutes for Jordan to text you about how she’s thankful it’s not another player. Something about toxicity within the league doesn’t end well. When Katie sees what Jordan has said, she slaps the back of her head. “You’ve practically told her this is okay because she’s fucking an actress not a teammate.” Actress, teammate, it doesn’t matter to you. You’re still clinging to the lie that there isn’t a connection between the two of you.

“It’s Florence Pugh.” You’re sitting on the worktop of Katie and Ruesha’s place. It’s been months since it started. Ruesha seems to barely contain her joy.

“The woman?” Katie checks, curious but not insistent on further details. You nod with a small smile. “You’re in love with Florence Pugh?”

“We don’t talk much.” You’re not in love with her. You don’t have a connection. “Just a lot of fucking.”

“Tell me why my teammates are talking about how lucky your mystery girlfriend must be, then,” Rue quips, catching you off guard. You struggle enough remembering there’s a city outside of Florence’s flat. It feels like your head has been dunked into the Antarctic Ocean: you’re the gossip? “Not going to name names, but there are hints of jealousy.”

“We’re not… It’s not like that.”

Katie rolls her eyes. You say that too often. “You told me you had three rules in place. Keep it a secret, stay in control, and don’t sleep over. I’d say it’s very out of control, you share your location with me and I know that’s not where your flat is, and people are talking.”

“They can talk all they’d like.” No one will link it back to Flo. It’s not possible. “Even you couldn’t think of where I’d met her.”

“At your brother’s birthday party,” Ruesha interrupts. Again, she catches you off guard. She chips at the wall you built around yourself. “He works in film, doesn’t he? Lighting or something.”

“He’s a gaffer.” It’s a little creepy how she knows this.

“It took one look at your wikipedia page. I’m not even a superfan.” Katie is also scared. She reminds herself to make sure her personal information comes from her mouth before Ruesha can search it up. “Florence Pugh has her own set of rumours following her around. One, in particular, takes note of how she knew who was top in the WSL table, despite the fact she is not a football fan. I mean, no one even knows what football team she supports.”

“Tottenham,” you answer without thinking. “She’s not sure why they do, but her family each have their own Spurs jersey. She got number 13 when she was nine.”

Katie grins but it fades soon enough. Florence Pugh has had your jersey number (albeit in the enemy’s colours) since she was nine and you still don’t believe there’s anything there. “You seeing her tonight?”

“Yeah, when her flight gets in from Milan.”

“I think you love her.”

“I can assure you I don’t.”

You fight the urge to second guess yourself. You’re not allowed to love her even if you find yourself doing it anyway. It should be hammered into your head by now.

- - -

Flo is giddy when she drops her bags in the hallway and surges forward to kiss you.

You haven’t stopped smiling since you picked her up from the airport, and she hasn’t tried to sabotage the good mood just yet.

She takes her jumper off as soon as you break for air, and you find that your palm knows exactly where to strike the wall in order to find the light switch to her bedroom. “I missed you,” breathes Florence against your lips, words more felt than heard. “I missed this.”

“Me too.”

You both pretend to have missed sleeping together more than the person you get to do it with.

At four in the morning, you settle into her bed, sheets sticky but not too unpleasant, skin sweaty but not unbearable. The glass of water on your side of the bed (temporarily yours, of course) reflects little puddles of light onto her ceiling as you lie awake. For some reason, you’re unable to fall asleep. Probably for the same reason, Flo is too.

There’s definitely something there. Maybe that’s what makes you so good in bed.

tags: @pewpughpew @ridleypugh @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @xsophiesx @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz @wandasbb @karsonromanoff

#florence pugh fanfiction #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh angst #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh one shot #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh x you #florence pugh imagine #katie mccabe #ruesha littlejohn #awfc #football #woso #leah williamson #randombush3 #woso x reader

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mostlymaudlin · 4 months

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important question: how do you think neil/the other foxes felt the next holiday season they had together??? what did the inside of neils head look like on new year’s eve as he remembered what he was doing that time the year before yknow

i love when people ask me questions abt my hcs like this <3

i kind of wrote a NYE flash fic last year! it's not very introspective tho. neil is just happy and getting a smooch :)

however, you got me thinking about how that juxtaposition would be for neil during the holidays. it got more christmas-y than NYE-ish though, so apologies if you're not rly into xmas... I'm usually not either lol. buuuuuut i wrote this:

🎄 merry & bright 🎄

andreil, rated t, 400 words / ao3 series: flashes of intimacy

There are no flights this year. No Exy, either. Wymack changed the codes to the court before he and Abby left to celebrate the holidays in the Bahamas. Neil does have one new wound: a paper cut he received while Nicky taught him how to wrap presents. It’s deep enough to need a bandaid, but not enough that he’ll remember it this time next year — not the way Evermore haunts the edges of Neil’s mind.

The memories come to him in hazy fractures, seconds-long intrusions that make his stomach roil. The phantom of the Ravens’ grueling schedule is messing with his sleep. Neil tries to lie still in the dark bedroom, but he keeps Andrew up too. Or maybe Andrew just has his own ghosts. Regardless, Andrew wraps himself around Neil from behind until late in the night, a silent commitment to rest even if sleep itself won’t come.

Those are just moments, though; blips in a winter break spent at the Columbia house. The present day is lazy and cheerful and warm enough to chase away the chill of the past.

“Are you having fun, Neil?” Nicky asks.

They’re in the living room, and the space is lit only by the television and the colorful lights on the tree. Earlier, when they’d driven around looking at other people’s Christmas lights, Neil had to sit half in Erik’s lap in order to cram four people in the backseat of the car. The lights were pretty. One house had taxidermy deer that disgusted Kevin but fascinated Aaron. Another had a sign with instructions to tune into a radio station where they were broadcasting music that synced up to the lights flashing on the house. Some of the streets they drove down were lined with houses lit up so brightly that it nearly gave the illusion of daylight.

Andrew pokes Neil in the cheek, bringing him back to the present once more. Nicky stares at him expectantly. There’s a mug of cooled cocoa in his hands. The credits roll on a claymation movie that Neil had only sort of watched through drooping eyelids. Andrew’s arm is a heavy, warm weight across the back of Neil’s shoulders, and his fingers occasionally trace the seams of Neil’s shirt. He hasn’t let go of Neil since they got home.

“Yeah,” Neil says. Nicky grins. Andrew draws circles against Neil’s shoulder. “Thanks. I really am.”

#my writing #aftg fic #andreil #aftg #flash #flashes of intimacy #putting this on ao3 too bc i like it hehe

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pedgito · 2 years

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“i won’t bite. unless you’re into that sort of thing.” with eddie and a bratty!reader?

author’s note: for my 1k celebration. this gave me such a good idea and i just ran with it, i really hope you enjoy!

cw: 18+ (minors dni), sub!eddie (my favorite), bratty!reader, lots of teasing, pain kink (very slight), restraints (handcuffs), gn!reader

word count: 1.2k

Eddie’s hands jostled against the restraints of the cuffs, looking not so pleased in his current position and state, stripped down to nothing aside from his worn out, black boxers. His arms were suspended above his head, enough slack to allow him some wiggle room to stay comfortable, but not enough to reach what he really wanted—and what he really wanted was you.

“I thought this was supposed to be fun.” Eddie complained, nose scrunching up as he eyes the metal contraption binding his hands together.

“Oh,” Your eyes flit up toward him, eyelashes batting innocently. You grip his muscled thighs, leaning forward between his legs, “are you not having fun?”

Eddie shrugs, noncommittal. Of course he was enjoying it, the only problem was, he hadn’t expected to be on the receiving end of the punishment.

“A deal is a deal, right?” You counter, reaching forward to yank at the cuffs, confirming they were still held nicely in place.

Eddie rolls his eyes defiantly and you can’t help but feel smug about the situation, remembering how fast Eddie’s face fell in shock after losing to you. He really shouldn’t have counted you out.

“Should’ve rolled for initiative, babe.” You quirk your head to the side, tongue darting out to the corner of your mouth slightly. “I can’t lie though, this is a nice view.”

Eddie shrinks slightly, feeling ridiculed and humiliated. But, that was part of the idea. Eddie took so much pride in himself and his abilities, that the idea of him being beaten by you—not that he didn’t believe you could, but that you tried to play it off like you couldn’t, and swept the rug out from under him. It was all a part of your sneaky master plan—a successful one, at that.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.” Eddie notices, watching the fingers that walked up his thigh, drifting ever so slightly under the thin fabric of his boxers. You weren’t going to give him what he wanted—no, not yet. He was going to have to suffer and wait, beg for it. “You wanna put me out of my mis-misery, huh?” His voice upticks as your fingers draw closer, the small infliction in his voice sending you reeling backwards.

You shake your head slowly, “Mmm, no.” Your voice is dripping in honey, so sickeningly sweet. “Gonna make you pay for underestimating my abilities.”

“Well, could you at least come here?” He asks, head nodding upwards. “It’s getting pretty lonely.”

You smile—he’s too prideful to just ask your for a kiss, how adorable. But, you can’t help yourself either, crawling your way forward to press your lips against his, giggling at the way his mouth parts eagerly, his chest urging forward to be closer to you, the slight jingle of the cuffs louder than any other noise in the room, even with how loudly he kissed you. You licked into his mouth, feeling the way his tongue chased after yours, outwardly moaning into your mouth.

Oh, he was definitely worked up.

You pull back, a thin, shiny string of spit following your lips, admiring how soft his lips looked, all wet and shiny from kissing you. He’s pouting, not noticeably, but you can see it in his downturned expression, eyes falling slightly as he followed your lips.

His dick is already half-hard in his boxers, the bulge evident even in the dim light, he shifts, moves, shimmies—desperate for friction. “I just wanna hear you say it.” You tell him, a faint smile on your face as you lean back, hands in your lap.

“No fuckin’ way.” Eddie chuckles darkly, glancing away from you. “You tricked me, you knew what you were doing.”

You stay silent, giving him a pointed look, waiting to hear those words leave his mouth—smug and pridefulness be damned, he was going to say those words. Eddie shakes his head disobediently, suddenly too shy to speak.

Well, two could play that game.

You lean forward, fingers digging into the muscle of his thighs, watching as he jolted away. He didn’t wince or show any type of pain, he was enjoying it, as much as he hated to admit. He grunts softly, still privy to your grip. You scoot closer, leaning into his space. He glances down at the bulge in his boxers, past the point of half-hard, nearly fully erect underneath that flimsy piece of cloth.

“Oh,” You say like you’ve made a sudden discovery, voice tipping upwards, “so you are enjoying yourself?”

“I’m not saying it.” He tells you, flipping his hair to the side to move it out of his face—he fails, so you reach forward and do it for him, breaking that teasing, bratty facade you held up.

“Well, guess I’ll just have to keep you like this all night,” You scoot backwards once again, hands rubbing gently at the spot where you held him, red marks disappearing quickly. “You hungry—I can go grab us some food?” You reach for the keys to his van, jingling them on your extended finger. “What are you thinking? Pizza? Oh, or tacos—“

“Fine.” Eddie caves, biting at his bottom lip insistently. “Fine—you beat the campaign, fair and square.” He stops there, much to your dismay.

“And?” You push, keys dropping to your side.

“Annnnd, I let you listen to Blondie on the rides to my place because I secretly like her music too.” Eddie’s looking up at you now, sufficiently defeated.

You grin wide, dropping the keys completely.

“And?” You urge him, dropping down on the bed until you’re hovering over his lap, still not allowing him to touch any part of your body.

“You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met.” Eddie says, eyes connecting with your own, sincerity clear in his voice. He smiles too, seeing the way your cheeks blush a faint shade of pink.

“There,” You tell him, reaching forward to offer a quick kiss on the lips, “was it really that hard to admit?”

“So painful,” He jokes, earning a playful bite against his jaw. You don’t expect the small moan that slips out, pulling back with wide, curious eyes, “What?” He asks softly.

“Did you—are you into that?” You ask openly, following his eyes.

“No—no, not really.” Eddie lies horribly, fingers flexing against the cuffs. You notice, eyes drawing upwards.

You could be nice and uncuff him, but this was just too good of an opportunity to let end so quickly.

“Fine,” You sighs, “I won’t bite, unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

“Well, I mean—“ Eddie stops, searching desperately for his words. It was all so simple. Just say it. You knew what he wanted, he knew it too, “I wouldn’t mind if you did. Only if you want to.”

“Eddie,” You sing, pointer finger tracing a line down his chest, stopping just at the thin happy trail that leads underneath his boxers, “you don’t have to feel ashamed about it.”

“Don’t want you thinking differently of me, you know.” He mumbles, eyes darting away from your own.

“Hey,” Your voice is steady, serious in the way you look at him, grabbing his face gently, “you don’t have to worry about that with me.”

Eddie nods, eyes flitting up to his bound hands.

“I guess,” You agree, reaching for the key and undoing the cuffs quickly, “since you’ve been so sweet.”

You yelp, suddenly forced back onto the mattress, head nearly hanging off the edge. Eddie wasted no time in pinning you underneath him, the hard line of his dick rubbing against your stomach, evident even through the barrier your shirt provided.

“Good,” He grins, all evil and boyish, clearly delighted by how the tables have turned, “my turn.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #my writing #1kfc

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littlespacereader · 1 month

Text

Sorry for the long awaited 10th Doctor fic. I won’t lie, I was really trying to figure out what I was going to write. That’s when I came across this gif! My favorite duo! The Doctor Donna duo! They always had such a fun dynamic in the show that I said to myself “what if they were the reader’s Caregivers?” So please enjoy this cute fic!!

Who Broke The Vase?🏺💙

Caregiver! 10th Doctor, Caregiver! Donna Nobel, & GN Little! Reader (SFW!)

Tags - hurt/comfort, DoctorDonna duo are the cutest, stuffie, broken glass, mention of violence at the end (just playful banter no worries), hugs and forehead kisses

Nicknames - Mama for Donna, Papa for The Doctor, space boy for The Doctor, munchkin, little one, little rose, darling

“Are you sure you’re okay here by yourself for a couple of minutes?” Donna grabbed her purse off the counter top and looked over at me.

“Of course! You’re just going around the corner to the Tardis. I’ll be fine. I’ve got Sir Teddy the second to watch me.” I gestured to the stuffie on my left.

I was sitting in the living room, legos spread throughout the floor. I was making the coolest building for Mama when we both heard the sound of the Tardis in the distance.

The Tardis meant Papa was home! He always brings me the coolest gifts or even better he takes Mama and I on the coolest adventures! I wonder what it’s going to be this time.

“Alright, I’ll be back soon with Papa. Don’t you or Sir Teddy the second do anything stupid while I’m gone.” She joked with a wink.

I smirked and rolled my eyes, “We won’t.”

She walked over and placed a kiss to the top of my head and one to Teddy’s head before she left out the front door. “Love you munchkin. Be back soon.”

“Love you too Mama!” I called back to her before the door closed.

The Doctor Donna duo were the farthest thing from a couple. They are what you like to call platonic soulmates. On one of their adventures they met me and were extremely kind and compassionate about my regression.

They surprised me one day and said they would be my Caregivers, not as a couple but as two separate Caregivers both wanting to love and protect me. What more could a Little ask for?

I played with my legos for a little bit but I couldn’t really focus on them. I was so curious to what Papa had been up to since he left. Maybe he found a new alien race? Maybe he solved world peace on another planet? Maybe he saved another spaceship?

Wait! I looked into the kitchen at the fridge. At the very top of the fridge is the picture of the Tardis I drew with a magnet on top to hold it in place. And this isn’t just any drawing! I drew this one especially for Papa!

It’s Mama, Papa and I on the beach with the Tardis resting under an umbrella. Papa would find the Tardis to be so silly! He would absolutely love it!

So onto my feet and off to the kitchen with Teddy I ran! Except when I got to the fridge I had a problem…the drawing was at the vvvveeeerrrrrryyyy top of the fridge and was hard to grab, even on my tippy toes.

This was a problem, but not one I couldn’t figure out. First step was getting something to stand on. Mama has a step stool somewhere…Ah ha! In the pantry!

I grabbed the step stool and brought it to the front of the fridge. But even at the top step it wasn’t enough! Now we had to result to drastic measures. Holding onto the fridge handle with one hand and Teddy with the other, I swung him in the hopes that he would hit the picture and knock it loose.

I hit and hit and hit and with one final swing, the magnet fell and my picture slowly started to drift down. But I also hit something else…

Teddy’s leg managed to snag the handle of the white and blue vase at the top of the fridge. Teddy’s leg snagged it and threw it off the top, shattering it on the floor below.

I stood there on the step stool in total shock. My heart started to race as a million thoughts ran through my mind. One thought stuck and stayed, I am in so much trouble.

I’ve never been in big trouble with my Caregivers before. What were they going to be like? Angry, loud, frustrated?!

Tears started to fall down my face as my beautiful picture landed near the mess. What was I going to do? Was there enough time to clean this mess? Maybe Mama wouldn’t notice the vase missing.

But soon I heard Papa and Mama’s voice in the distance. I couldn’t think, I was just starting to panic. I just started to run, leaving the mess and my picture behind. I grabbed Teddy and ran upstairs to the safety of my room.

~~~

The Doctor swung the door open with his usual grin on his face, “Y/N! I’m home!!”

But instead of seeing his little one run as fast as they could over to him, he was met with a silence. Strange…Y/N is usually happy to see him.

Donna scooted past him and walked into the house worried, “Y/N? Y/N?!” Where had their Little gone?

Donna searched the living room finding the legos left abandoned. The Doctor searched around for any sign of the Little. He paused in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Donna? Did you have something white and blue made out of glass?” He asked over his shoulder.

“What?” Donna joined the Doctor in the kitchen as they looked over the mess.

Pieces of glass surrounded the fridge and the step stool. On top of the mess laid the picture Y/N had drawn for the Doctor.

The Doctor picked it up and smiled at the picture. He always loved all of Y/N creations. This one was especially funny to him.

“Doesn’t take Sherlock Homes to figure out what happened here.” The Doctor joked.

“You think they’re okay? Maybe they got hurt?” Donna looked around the room frantically.

“No, no, I think they’re okay. If they were hurt they would’ve ran to us right away. I think the accident just scared them.” The Doctor said looking over the pieces. “What was this anyway?”

“It was a vase my mum bought me. I never really liked it but she insisted I have it to lighten up the room. But she doesn’t know that glass and Littles usually don’t mix.” She laughed.

“You’re right about that.” The Doctor stood up and looked to the stairs. “We better see if they’re alright.”

“Hold on just a minute their space boy,” she grabbed his arm. “We need to be on the same page with this. No good Papa, mean mama routine anymore.”

“Well, it was just a vase. One you didn’t even like that much.” He pointed out.

Donna rolled her eyes, “The vase doesn’t matter. What matters is they could’ve gotten serious hurt while we were gone. That’s what we need to focus on with them. Just, follow my lead with this and don’t be mister good guy.”

“I’m not always Mister good guy! I’m stern.”

Donna just riled her head and gave him a look, a look that said ‘you’re the biggest softie there is’. He sighed, “Alright.” He pocketed the drawing before following Donna upstairs.

~~~

And with that the two made their way up stairs. They immediately went into Y/N’s room, their door was wide open but they were missing from the room.

The Doctor Donna duo was about to leave when they heard soft sniffling and sobs from the closet. The Doctor’s hearts and Donna’s singular heart broke hearing the upset Little.

The Doctor carefully opened the closet door and couched down. There in the back of the closet clutching their stuffie sat Y/N, tears running down their face as they cowered away. “I’m sorry! I’m sowry!!”

“Awwww, Y/N it’s alright. Papa and Mama are not angry. Come here, we just want to make sure you’re not hurt.” The Doctor said holding a hand out for them.

But they didn’t move from their spot. They just shook their head, “ ‘m fine.” They said with a broken voice.

Donna took a seat on the ground next to the Doctor, “I know you’re fine darling but Mama is so worried about her little rose. Could you come out so I can make sure my rose isn’t missing a petal?”

The Doctor smiled at Donna, knowing she would only save such a nickname for someone as special as Y/N. Her soft and gentle voice started to relax Y/N a bit. They crawled out of their spot and over to Donna who held her arms out to them. Y/N was then wrapped into Donna arms, getting a big comforting hug from her.

“There we are. You’re okay my little rose. You’re okay.” She whispered as she rocked them back and forth in her arms. Y/N turned and buried their face against her shoulder.

Now, let’s have a look at your arms,” The Doctor leaned over and lifted their arm high up then back down. “Alright this one looks to be okay!”

“And now let’s look at the right arm,” the Doctor did the same thing, overly lifting their arm then bringing it back down. “Everything look alright with me Captain.” The Doctor winked to Donna.

“Thank you sergeant.” She winked back. “We can’t have our best soldier getting hurt now can we?” That brought a small smile to Y/N face.

“Now let’s check on Sir Teddy the Second. Would you mind lifting his left paw?” The Doctor asked.

Y/N had stopped crying, watching the two with amusement as they first examined them then Teddy, making sure they were both okay.

Once the two Caregivers had settled their Little down, it was time to ask the big questions. “What happened to you and Teddy? Why did you leave the living room?”

Y/N expression dropped hearing that they could maybe be in trouble again. “I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to!” They began panicking again.

The Doctor took their hand in his right away. “No, no, no, we’re not angry! We were so worried about you. We thought the worst that maybe you got hurt or cut by the glass.”

Donna wrapped an arm around them, “Darling you know I didn’t like the vase Nan got us. That’s not an excuse to break it, but the vase is not what matters. You’re what matters to me.”

The Doctor decided to help, “Was it to get this beautiful picture for me?” He held the picture in his arms.

Y/N nodded, “Yeah I wanted to give Papa the picture with the Tardis.” They leaned over and pointed on the Tardis under the umbrella. “See, we’re all at the beach and the tardis is resting under the umbrella.”

The Doctor chuckled, “That is hilarious. I could just picture the Tardis resting under an umbrella. It’s a beautiful picture!” He smiled at the picture. But his eyes soon caught Donna’s serious ones.

He cleared his throat and continued on, “But while it is a beautiful photo. It’s not something that should put you in danger.”

“It was at the top of the fridge! I wanted to get it before you came home. So I used Teddy to get it and….the vase fell.” They tried to explain.

“Yessss but you could’ve asked me to grab it before he saw it in the kitchen.” Donna reminded.

“Oh…yeah…” Wow, that all made sense.

The two Caregivers couldn’t help but laugh. “Listen, I think you learned your lesson. Just never do something dangerous like that again please. If you need help with something always ask Papa or me, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll never do it again.” They shook their head.

Donna and the Doctor smiled then placed a loving kiss to the top of their head. “Then all is forgive darling.”

The three stood up but immediately Y/N put their arms up and made grabby hands at the Doctor. His face lit up as he picked the Little up and into his arms.

“There we are. Now, let’s see the present Papa brought home for you!”

“Present?!” Y/N’s eyes lit up.

“Yes! Straight from 45 BC Rome! You know I met Julius Caesar when I was there?”

“Reallly?! Wooooowwwww! Did you warn him he was about to get stabbed in the back?”

“What?! No! I couldn’t tell him that! It could change history as we know it!”

“That isn’t being a nice friend though.”

“Stabbing him in the back is not being a nice friend, I’m just protecting history.”

Donna couldn’t help but smirk at the two antics. Whether the Doctor liked it or not he was truly a softie when it came to his Little Y/N. But she wasn’t the stern one her mother expected her to be either.

Just like the vase she was breaking the model of what it meant to be a good parent or in this case a good Caregiver.

“I agree darling I don’t think the Doctor was being a good friend.”

The Doctor turned around shocked, “You two?! I can’t win can I?”

Y/N and Donna smiled, “Nope!” They both said together.

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carminecherry · 7 months

Text

PLAYGROUND | kazutora hanemiya

this is part one of the series put a collar on your pet

⇝ PAIRING: timeskip!kazutora hanemiya x bff fem!reader

⇝ SERIES SYNOPSIS: kazutora has wanted a neck tattoo since middle school. after you get a tattoo apprenticeship in the city, he wants you to be the one to do his neckpiece. however, the neck is an awfully sensitive spot. especially for a first tattoo. some people handle pain better than others. some people even enjoy it...

⇝ PART ONE LENGTH: 2.5k words

⇝ PART ONE WARNINGS: slight nsfw (18+ minors do not interact):

all characters are 20+; AU! where kazutora never got a neck tattoo; cuddling, drinking, a little angst, teasing, chasing, tickling; kazutora is a playboy, you're his bff who he can always count on, you're the last person to admit his charms phase you, he comes to you after yet another break up, would you risk your friendship to confess to your womanizer bff? also, you find out that kazutora is ticklish.

⇝ AUTHOR'S NOTE: lots of spice in the next part, this is mostly for tension and build up, enjoy <3

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CLICKING THE READMORE, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT.

“C’mon~” He whined. A pout, curving his lips. “I don’t know, Kazu… I just became an apprentice. Shouldn’t you go to someone, I don’t know, more professional?”

You take a swig from the tall can you bought at the convenience store, the tinny metal tainting the taste in a familiar way. Despite being 7% it was making your head swirl pleasantly already.

He sighs, pulling you close to him on the wooden park bench, littered with small carvings and ink; some of which you and the gang have contributed over the years.

It sits in an area that's slightly secluded, a grove of shrubs and trees blocking it from view. It was the perfect spot for smoking or drinking in privacy. Once you and the gang stumbled upon it back in high school, you’ve kept coming back.

You run your fingers over the weathered graffiti, ignoring the man nuzzling into you, finding a spot on the seat. A smile tugs at your lips. It's a little heart with a dagger through it. Basic, but it had been the design of your first flash tattoo.

You remember the night you practiced drawing it here on the bench and how Kazu, Baji, and Chifuyu and volunteered to let you sketch it on them in sharpie.

A feeling of nostalgia warms your chest. You also remember a younger, very intoxicated, Kazu swearing he'd only ever get a tattoo if you were the one to do it. This park, this spot, this bench, holds so many memories.

You take a deep breath in, letting the cool, night air fill your lungs. The sun set a long time ago, but the air still held a slight dampness from the humidity of the day. It’s one of those nights where you can feel fall creeping in.

“I don’t wanna go to just anyone, I want it to be done by you.” You can’t fight the blush that dusts your cheeks, much to your chagrin. He’s always been a huge flirt, that stupid pretty boy. You hate it when his methods have an effect on you. “Yeah, yeah, flattery that’s not gonna work on me Kazu. You just want a discount.” You lie, feeling your heart rate increase with his lingering proximity. He plasters on an innocent face, but the glint in his golden eyes gives him away, it always does.

“Pretty, please. It won’t be right if it isn’t you.” He whines, throwing himself over you in a dramatic display. You huff. He knows what he’s doing, he always teases you like this. Making you put your guard up and shut him down. The helpless flirt, the devil. He rotates his head against your shoulder, making his earring jingle, bringing his chin to rest there comfortably.

You can feel his breath on your cheek, smell his shampoo, his detergent, his cologne mixing together; light but strong- like the crisp, cold air of a shopping mall. You like the smell, though you’d never admit it. You’re wrapped in it, enjoying it for as long as you can before he notices. He’s quick to poke fun at everyone, especially you, a trait you have mixed feelings about.

You hear his soft breathing in your ear, that flustered feeling building. You break first, “I’ll… Talk to my boss. But-” He’s crushing you in a hug before you can finish. “Don’t go getting your hopes up.” You choke out. “Is your boss the hot one? Give her my number if she needs some persuading.” “Ew. No. That’s Amy, and ONE she has a girlfriend, TWO my boss is Rei, big, bald, lots of tattoos, sunglasses, yeah?” “He pouts again, "I’m not super into guys but give him my number nonetheless.” “You’re ridiculous.” You finally shake him off.

You’ve had to make an effort to hold on to moments like this, where the shameless comes through. These sobering moments can help you when you feel the butterflies starting, a reminder of why it would never work between the two of you. He always did this, spoiled the moment.

You’ve walked to that edge before, the boundary of your friendship. Peered into the inky blackness of the unknown below. What would meet you there if you ever garnered enough courage to leap? More times than you can count, the words would bubble up in your chest. What do you think of me, Kazu? Do you think we could ever be more than friends? I want you all to myself. All bitten back by the gripping fear of losing a dear friend, fear of getting your heart broken by the person you care about most.

He curls a hand around your waist, leaning into you. You melt into the heat seeping through his shirt. He usually gets like this, more touchy, after a breakup regardless of who dumped who. He has all of that pent up affection, that physical touch that needs an outlet. And it’s always you. Over and over again you are his rock.

You hate that it’s like this, that he has such power over you. But that doesn’t change anything. You can’t bear the thought of him being with anyone else like this. There is an intimacy to your relationship beyond physical. One that he has never had in his love life, or so he’s told you. Your heart aches, confused. The conversations of the past whirling into a spiral of anxiety and hope.

It’s almost funny. The double standard you’ve slotted yourself into. If one of your girl friends came to you, talking about a guy situation like this, you would tell her to run for the hills with a promise to kick his ass. But you were putty in his hands. Damn it.

You’re brought back from your reverie with him jostling you, “Oi, are you even listening?” “Nah, I tuned out when you couldn’t remember her name.” He makes an indignant noise. “Why are you so hung up on her anyways?” The intrusive thought blurts out before you have time to stop it. “I don’t know, I just feel kind of gross about it…” You sit in silence together, not wanting to pry.

“I guess I feel kinda used.” He admits with faux drama. “I’d say it’s karmic at this point, then.” You shoot back, earning you a shove. “Come on, I mean, how many girls have you hooked up with and dumped? I don’t see how this is any different.” “Those girls didn’t matter.” “Oh wow.” You say only half sarcastically. “Not like that, I mean, it was just for fun. We were on the same page… Most of the time…” You roll your eyes.

He slides down the bench, reclining, resting his head in your lap. Your fingers naturally comb through his soft, dyed hair. The longer, wispy bits tickling the skin of your thighs. He closes his eyes to the pleasant sensation of your nails on his scalp. “It was like… I guess I feel like a pawn… She was just hooking up with me to try and get Mikey’s attention.” His voice sounds distant. You hum, taking another sip of your drink, prying your eyes from his peaceful face. “Sounds very dramatic.” You offer, he laughs humorlessly. “Yeah, it’s shit.”

It’d been a long time since you’d hung out with the guys. Work has been busy since you started as an apprentice at a tattoo studio in the city and the only reason you get to see Kazu is because the two of you live so close to each other. You wonder how the others are doing. Sounds like there's some tea brewing and you’re happy to not be involved.

“I don’t know, getting a tattoo after a messy break up, pretty cliche don’t ya think?” You tease. His eyes shoot open and he looks flustered, it’s rare that you can get a reaction out of him; a shiteating grin spreading across your face. “It’s something I’ve wanted for a long time.” He says, with an earnestness that you don’t often see from him. You lean over him in your lap, “Oh~ What’s a long time to you? Two months?” You continue teasing. “Since, like, middle school ass hat!” He says with a playful shove, your drink sloshing in your hand.

“Ay- watch it!” You say shoving him back. “You’re gonna spill my-” He grabs your wrist that’s holding the can, you wrestle with him but he has that brutish strength, one forged over years of brawling in his younger years. He guides your hand up with ease. “Hey, knock it off!” you say, struggling in his vice grip. He replies only with a devilish grin, opening his mouth in a seductive way, locking eyes with you.

His head rolls back, exposing the column of his neck. He turns your wrist to waterfall the liquid in the can into his open mouth; the stream catching a small glimmer of light from a distant lamppost.

His adam's apple bobs in his throat as the can grows lighter in your hand. A bit of the drink escapes, you follow the slow drip from the corner of his mouth, down to his jaw. He closes his eyes as it slowly rolls down his neck, dripping into your lap. You feel your face heat as you take in the sight hungrily. He shakes your wrist to get the last few drops of the beverage. “Problem solved.”

“You ASS!” You sputter. He releases you with a laugh, wiping the spilled liquid with the back of his hand, before sizing you up in a predatory way. A sharp smile spreads across his face. “Sorry, do you want it back?" He sits up quickly, rearranging your positions, grabbing your face between his warm palms.

He hovers over you on the bench acting like he’ll spit the drink back into your mouth as you fend off his attack, curling into the bench to put some space between the two of you. “Oh mY GOD SICKO LET GO OF ME!” You squeal, fighting off his grip with a laugh.

He relents, chuckling as well. “You owe me a new one.” You say, punctuating the statement with a tinny tap on the can with your nails, the wood scraping against the back of your thighs as you scoot away from him. “Yes, yes, your wish is my command, princess.” The pet name makes your heart skip. Damn him.

He stands from the bench, stretching his long toned arms above his head. “I didn’t mean right this second.” You pout, hiding your blush in the shadows. “So bossy.” He quips back. You wipe the spilled liquid from your leg and rub absently at a bug bite that meets the pad of your finger, the itchiness a welcome distraction. You slap at your chest as you feel the prick of a new bite. Then another on your thigh.

“Fuck, I’m getting eaten alive out here!” You say with annoyance. It is still summer after all. He whips around, pinning you between his arms and the bench. “I’m the only bloodsucker that gets to eat you.” He says in a syrupy joking voice, bringing a nail to scratch at the rising red spot on your collar bone. “Fuck off.” You say kicking at him, he retreats with a laugh.

“Ugh, it’s so itchy now.” You whine, pressing on the warm patch of skin. You rise in a huff, walking out of the little grove. “Aww you poor thing. I can help you scratch any itch, just say the word~” He says , trotting to catch up to you. “Animal.” You spit at him, but your voice lacks venom and the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth takes any punch out of the statement.

He skips ahead of you, blocking your path. You step to the left, he blocks. You step to the right he blocks. You stand to full height, not even reaching his chin, and cross your arms. He crouches slightly like he’s going to charge you. “God, you’re such a kid. Get out of my way.” You say in the sternest voice you can muster.

“Password.” He says, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. “Let me through, ass wipe.” “Nope, two more tries.” “Kazutora is a drunk brat who can’t keep it in his pants.” “Wrong again, only one more chance.” “I’m seriously going to kick your-” “Wrong!”

Then he’s running at you. You break into a sprint, a playful squeal escaping your throat. “OH MY GOD YOU DICK WHAT HAPPENED TO CHIVALRY?!” You run through the grassy field next to the grove, the lush blades of grass lick the skin of your ankles with the slight moisture of dew that’s formed. The cool summer air rushing past you. The child-like thrill of being chased thundering through your veins. You hear him laughing as he sprints behind you.

You know he’s faster than you, he’s letting you outrun him. He loves this, the chase. You duck under some branches, the playground appearing in the distance. You run towards it, sprinting up the slide with a symphony of squeaks, rubber soles on plastic. He runs after you as you jump down the back. You feel the crunch of mulch under your shoes.

The alcohol in your system gives you a pleasant buzz on your skin. You weave between the swings, chains jingling, and make a break for the jungle gym. You make a frantic leap up the stairs, cold metal meeting the palm of your hand. Before you can get in, you feel his arm snake around your waist, prying you from the structure. A high pitched laugh escapes as he swings you around. “Gotcha!”

Your legs flail helplessly, far from the ground. “Let go of me you ass!” You laugh. “I WIN!” He howls. “It wasn’t a game, loser.” “Everything is a game.” He says breathing heavily into the back of your head. You wriggle in his grip but it’s pointless, he’s too strong. “Put me doooooown~” You whine. “What do I win?” He says in your ear. “You win an absolute ass whooping!” “That doesn’t sound like fun.” You feel his lip pout against the shell of your ear.

He adjusts his grip, flipping you over his shoulder easily. “Down! Put me down! Down boy!” You say slapping his back. “You’re the one going on about chivalry, I’ll take you home.” He says with faux indignation, turning on a heel.

You resign yourself and flop down to dead weight. Letting your arms swing like a corpse. They brush against the fabric of his shirt; it’s smooth and thin. With each sway you can feel the tone of his back muscles, flexed carrying your weight. You let your fingers trail more, tracing a pattern in his back.

“Don’t get me worked up, sweetheart.” He jokes, but there’s an edge to his voice. “Oh~” You hum. “Ticklish, Kazu?” You bring your fingers to his side, fluttering them lightly before digging in. He buckles under your attack with a yelp as you tickle and prod the sensitive skin of his sides. He releases you unceremoniously, you stumble to get proper footing. You spin, ready to bully him with this discovery. Before the taunt can leave your mouth your eyes lock with his.

What looks back at you is a face you’ve never seen him make. Is that fucker blushing? “Totally unfair!” He whines, straightening and rubbing his sides. “All is fair in… War?” “That’s not the quote, dumbass.” He fires back. “C’mon.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder and guides you back to the sidewalk. “I can walk by myself, y’know.” You say under your breath.

“It’s my chivalrous duty to protect young maidens from the scary creatures that lurk in the night. Even ones who can’t keep their hands to themselves.” “You’ve just described yourself.” “Just enjoy your scary dog privileges. You don’t know how many other fair maidens wish they were on my arm tonight. Don’t you feel special?” There it is, mood kill. You bite back a sarcastic comment. The two of you make the rest of the walk in silence, feelings swirling in your chest.

#Kazutora Hanemiya x reader #kazutora x reader #kazutora smut #kazutora x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tr x reader #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tr smut #tr x you #carminecherry fics

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