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norrisleclercf1 · 5 months

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Santa's Little Helper

Pairing: Dad!Lando Norris x F!Reader

Rating: PG

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: Pregnancy, other than that none just fluff

Requested: Yes/No

Synopsis: Lando is finally coming home for the holidays and decides to play elf

A/N: Yes I broke my hiatus, don't judge me

"Ready to be home?"

Lando lifts his head from the window of his seat and looks at Oscar. They weren't the young kids they were once, long gone the season of '23. Oscar was married with two adorable little girls, Lando having married you years ago.

"Of course, I miss them." He whispers. The season was finally over, and Lando could eventually join his family back home. You, of course, called him and kept in touch, but it was also hard to travel with a toddler and you being pregnant.

"Yeah, I'm flying home soon too. Have to finish up here first." Oscar nods towards the McLaren factory. Groaning, they both climb out of the car, stretching. "Just need to get through this and then can be home," Lando mumbles as the two trudge through the harsh Woking winter. Oscar sighs when the intense heat of the building hits their faces, which makes Lando melt.

"Hurry up, I've got to get back to London before Y/n and Theodore get home." Oscar rolls his eyes as he follows Lando through the factory to the meeting room.

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Zak knew it was useless to get Lando to focus on the meeting. The older driver needed to be more focused on checking his phone every once in a while. Everyone knew you were out of town and still believed that Lando was in Dubai instead of home in England. Zak could tell that Lando was losing his patience as his knee tapping got quicker and louder. Yep, Zak was ending this now.

"Alright," The CEO claps his hands and stands up, patting Andrea on the back and letting him stop talking. "I think we've had a very long season and year with that," Lando didn't wait as he grabbed his stuff and rushed out of the room. "Have a wonderful holiday." Zak sighs, Oscar chuckling, holding his own phone and leaving. But Zak can hear his voice pick up and the screams of delight from the speaker.

"Well, see you in January." Andrea laughs and pats Zak on the back, walking out.

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" Just, can you please try and delay them?" Lando begs into the phone. Your mother laughs as Lando frantically rushes around your home in London. He only had enough time to sort this out and needed you to be stalled. "Lando, darling, only so much I can do." Your mother chuckled, but her voice grew quiet when you passed by.

"Mom? Who are you talking to?" Lando stills, holding his breathing, thinking that you'd be able to tell it was him through that. "Your aunt sugar plum, want to talk to her?" Lando can practically see your nose scrunching up as you quickly say no and walk away. Sighing in relief, Lando rushes, looking for the rest of the Christmas decorations and the new ones he's bought.

"Really? Calling me the Aunt, that's your sister Ma." Lando teases, and your mother snorts. "That old bat will talk Y/n, poor ear off. So, why should I help you?" Lando rolls his eyes. Your mother and he constantly pick on one another, but it is filled with love. "How about I'll let you hold the baby after Y/n and I?" "Deal, I'll hide the car keys." She hangs up, which has Lando cheering.

Stopping, he looks down at his feet and smiles, dropping to his knees. "Well, buddy, we better get started." Your English Cocker Spaniel, named Cookie. Cookie barks loudly and licks Lando's hand. "Good girl," Lando stands and looks around. "First, let's set the mood." Walking over, he hooks his phone up to the speakers and smiles as Frank Sinatra's voice fills the house.

Lando doesn't start decorating right away. Instead, he starts cleaning the house. You were about 7 months pregnant, and it was hard to do some house chores. He wanted to show you how much he loves you. Lando wasn't one with words; more actions and giving. Moving through the house, he pushes open his son's room and smiles.

Theodore loved Formula 1 and Marvel. His room was nothing but decked out in its merchandise. A picture of you and Lando holding him in front of his McLaren and then one giant group, one with all his uncles. Theodore's room was covered in his toys, and Lando gets to work. Putting up the toys and grabbing one of his shopping bags, he strips the bed of its sheets. He got these cute little snowmen for the sheets. Theodore matched the sheets with the identical snowmen for the comforter he got.

He grabs another bag and takes out mini decorations. A little fake tree with Marvel and f1 ornaments. He gets to work setting it up. He hums along to the song with Cookie at the foot of the bed, watching Lando. A mini navy blue tree skirt covers the bottom of the tree and places fake gifts there. Next, Lando hands up some little fairy lights on the wall behind the bed. He puts a moose, snowman, elf, and Santa stuffies on the corner and then two red and green pillows on the bed.

Lando finishes it by hanging up a little zipline with an Elf on it and flying over the bed with a remote. "Alright, time for the main room." Cookie whines but happily follows Lando through the house.

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"Momma, hungry," Theodore whines as you pull up the driveway. "I know, babes, we'll eat when we get inside. It's been a long day. The baby was kicking your bladder. Theodore wanted nothing more than his Daddy. Lando wasn't answering his phone, and then your mother hid your fucking keys. "Hungry," Theodore whines, helping him out of the car; you just nod.

"Come on, I'll make you some nuggies." Theodore smiles at you as you open the front door and freeze. There greeting you was your Christmas tree covered in soft lights, ornaments, and gifts already wrapped and under the tree. "Wha," "Hey, dinner is ready." You turn your head to see your husband wearing a Mrs. Clause apron. "Lando?" Your husband smiles, and Theodore gasps.

"Mommy, Santa was here." Theo giggles and points at the gifts. "Um, excuse me, little man? Aren't you happy to see me?" Theo squeals louder, running toward his father and swinging him up Theodore, babbling happily. You clear your throat, trying to gain control of your emotions, but you can't notice that the house is also clean. "Lando," You whisper, hand cradling your belly.

He gets that tooth-goofy smile of his and walks over and hugs you. "Mommy, Daddy is home," Theodore whispers, which makes you laugh through your tears. "Yes, buddy. Daddy is home." Lando snorts, wanting to make a joke but doesn't. "Alright, there are nuggies and some mac and cheese that's getting cold." Theodore wiggles out of his father's hold and zooms into the kitchen. Lando chuckles but stops when you pull him down, kissing him deeply.

Lando moans as he pulls you in and dips you slightly before pulling you back up. "Well, hello to you too." He grumbles, blinking his eyes open as you push back his unruly curls. "I'm guessing that wasn't my aunt talking to my mother earlier?" Lando blushes and looks away. "No idea what you're talking about." You giggle and kiss him on his cheeks, smiling.

"Why'd you do all this?" Lando pulls back, needing clarification on your question. "Baby, you're growing our baby, and besides, I love you and wanted to make things easier for you. I'm your husband. This is the bare fucking minimum. The dishes are done, the laundry is folded, the sheets are all clean, and dinner is cooked. Now, let's eat our nuggets before Theo, the little gremlin, eats them all." Nodding, you head into the kitchen, seeing Theo stare hard at his plate.

"Theo, you could've started." You push back his hair, and he shakes his head no. "Daddy is home, but the elves still might be here. Have to be good." Lando snorts and plates your food, and your mouth waters and sit down. "That's right, Theo, better be good, or I'll bring back the elves." Rolling your eyes, you knew the elves were no more than Carlos, Charles, Max V, Max F, Oscar, and Daniel.

"Yeah, the elves." You remark, and Lando cuts you a glare, but it is playful. "Hey, the elves are the ones who got all the gifts. Don't be mean to the elves." "Yes, and you were all wonderful little helpers." You smile, and Lando slowly pushes back the evidence of the others helping him.

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strang3lov3 · 7 months

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GameStop

Summary: Mall Rats 4! (Can be read alone or, catch up with the mallrats in my masterlist) Joel tells you not to fuck with the Nintendo he stole from GameStop. His one rule. You fuck with it. That’s okay, though. Joel makes you play Mario with his fingers knuckle deep inside you.

Warnings: JOEL IS WEARING GRAY SWEATPANTS THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL🚨‼️ fingering, teasing, edging, orgasm denial blowjobs, unprotected piv, creampie, jjoel is so tender and such a dick, arguing, inglewood up to no good, domestic moments, minor injuries, when will these two fucking kiss!?? Idk

W/C: 4.6k

A/N: thank you very much @papipascalispunk i appreciate you taking the time to edit this. I love you so much. did you know that? And everyone else, do you know how much I love y’all for reading and engaging? I do. In case you didn’t know already 🥰

Joel stands in front of your house early afternoon on Saturday, a box of cords and plastic in one hand as he urgently knocks on your door, “Open up,” he barks, “This shit’s heavy.”

“Fuck,” you groan, walking up to your front door wearing nothing but an ill-fitting t-shirt and some old boxers. You can see Joel waiting impatiently through the window. You open the door and squint at Joel, the daylight too bright for your eyes, “What do you want, Joel?”

“Need to use your TV,” he demands, stepping inside your home and placing a hand on your hip to move you aside, “Move.”

“Why?”, you resist.

Joel motions toward his box with an annoyed expression on his face and your eyes light up. “Oh yeah,” you say, leading Joel to your living room where he sits in front of your old and boxy television, flipping up panels and tinkering with buttons before plugging in cords, “Can I play too? Will you show me how?”

“If you listen to me, maybe,” Joel mumbles as he’s setting up the console before turning to you, “Are you gonna be good and listen to me?”

“Of course not,” you smirk.

“Figures.”

You didn’t listen yesterday, either. You never do.

Something had caught your eye and you went ahead of Joel, something he absolutely hates. He tells you your place is next to him or behind him. He leads. You follow.

“Would you quit fuckin’ wanderin’, Inglewood?”, Joel hissed at you in the second level of the mall, “I give ya an inch, ya take a mile.”

You rolled your eyes, “Why do you call me that?”

“Cause you’re always up to no good.”

“I don’t understand that reference.”

“I know you don’t,” Joel sighed.

An odd clicking noise startled you both. It wasn’t quite that signature sound of a clicker, but it was enough to set you both off. You turned to Joel with wide eyes, and he reflexively pulled you close, one hand over your mouth and his other arm wrapped around your waist. Behind me, he mouthed.

You nodded and took your place behind Joel, heart pounding in your chest. He walked forward slowly before stopping, pulling out his gun and his flashlight. In front of him was a dark silhouetted figure, something he couldn’t quite make out. It stood in front of a store with a broken sign, white and red glass lettering shattered. As he tiptoed closer with you following close behind, his eyes began to piece more things together. The figure was unmoving, and upon closer inspection it looked to be wearing almost…tactical gear? Was it FEDRA? He wondered what the clicking noise was. Probably just the mall deteriorating. If there were infected in the mall, they would have shown themselves by this point.

The figure stayed still, unmoving. Finally, Joel saw it. On the figure’s chest read, ‘Call of Duty: Out October 29, 2003’. Joel let out a breath of relief and put his gun down, “False alarm,” he said. “Wait.”

“What is it, Joel?”, you asked as he took quick steps toward the unmarked store. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice, “Get your ass over here. Follow me. First good thing in this godforsaken mall. Do you know what this is?”

“You know I don’t know what this is.”

Joel explained that it was a GameStop. They used to sell video games and stuff, had all sorts of fun things. He looked like a kid in a candy shop, stealing consoles and cartridges and gushing about how much he loved these games long ago.

When you and Joel had returned from the mall, he practically sprinted into Ellie’s room, setting up their shared TV with a PlayStation and introducing her to some games. Ellie was ecstatic, and Joel knew she and the TV would be inseparable.

Which leads him here, to your house, in front of your TV.

“So I take it Ellie’s excited about the games and stuff you got her?”, you ask amused.

Joel fumbles with a controller to a Nintendo Entertainment System. “Big time,” he says. “They’re attached at the hip. So I’m commandeering your TV for today.”

“You could’ve asked, you know,” you tease, “I would’ve given it to you, asshole.”

“Don’t need you to give me nothin’. Just here to use your TV for a bit,” as he draws the curtains in your room, turns on your TV and adjusts the input, then sits back on your couch, legs outstretched on your coffee table, “It’s more fun when I take it from ya, anyway.”

You wonder if Joel gets physically ill at the thought of being polite, being kind to you. Nothing’s ever easy with him. He’s always ready to argue, ready to instigate. You roll your eyes, then leave Joel to take a shower and get dressed. You’re not sure what you were planning on doing on this Saturday, but video games with Joel seems to be your fate.

By the time you have showered, Joel has already been playing for nearly 2 hours. You dress yourself in some comfy sweatpants and a hoodie, expecting to hunker down in front of the TV with Joel all day. You can hear the soft music from the video game from your room and Joel’s strings of expletives, or his cheers, depending on what’s happening in the game. You make a couple of sandwiches, some sliced apples, and pour a couple of glasses of water before you greet Joel in the living room. Standing in front of the TV, you watch as Joel tries to continue playing. There’s a little guy wearing a red hat, jumping over blocks and stomping on mushrooms. He makes a cute little ‘boing’ noise when he jumps, and the music playing in the background is playful, melodic.

“Sweetheart, y’make a better door than a window. Get out of the way,” he gruffs. Joel’s got some fucking nerve today. He could have just kindly asked you to move. Tauntingly, you wiggle your ass in front of him, so he reaches over the coffee table and smacks it, “What’d I say about listening? Do you wanna play the game or not?” With Joel’s eyes still transfixed on the TV in front of you, you sit down next to him and place your two plates on the coffee table. “Everyday it’s somethin’ with you. Always tryin’ to get under my skin, always-”, Joel’s voice trails off as he glances at his plate, “Did you make me a sandwich?”

You shrug, “You’re extra cranky today. Figured you could use a snack.”

“I’m not cranky,” Joel argues, “And I don’t need you makin’ me any snacks. Can make my own food.”

“Okay,” you say, eating your own food, “You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to. I’m not gonna shove it down your throat.”

Joel stays focused on his game until he hears the crunch of you biting into a slice of apple. “Wait, are those apple slices?”, he asks in a low tone.

“Mhm.”

“You didn’t happen to cut any up for me, did you?”

“I did. Sprinkled cinnamon and sugar on top,” you smile proudly.

You watch Joel grumble to himself and play the game silently until he beats the level he’s on, then he pauses the game and sets his controller down. He picks up his plate of food and eats a couple of apple slices before inspecting his sandwich, “Did you poison this?”

“No, not the sandwich. The apples, yes. Don’t you taste the rat poison?”

Joel rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his sandwich, “Gonna have to try harder than that, sweetheart. Up the dose next time. Tasty sandwich, though.”

“Noted,” you smile. Joel smiles too, almost imperceptibly, but you see it, the sparkle in his eyes and the way his face lit up when you told him you sliced up some apples for him too.

“Tell me about your game.”

Joel raises an eyebrow, “It’s Mario. You don’t know Mario?”, and you shake your head no. “Jesus…you age me,” Joel takes another bite of his sandwich before continuing, “Mario’s a video game. Super Mario Brothers. He has a brother, Luigi. They’re plumbers and they fight Bowser to save Princess Peach. So that’s what I’m doin’ here,” Joel motions to the TV, “Savin’ Peach. Eventually.”

“Is it hard?”, you ask.

“Kinda. Haven’t played in forever. But Tommy and I’d play all the time. Were always fightin’ over the damn Nintendo,” Joel chuckles, “Drove Mom fuckin’ nuts.”

“Maybe we should invite him over then,” you muse.

“Nah,” Joel says, “Just me and you today.”

You smile, “Just us?”

Joel nods, finishing the last of his sandwich and his apple slices, “Unfortunately.” He stretches his legs and his arms out long, then rubs his soft belly with a groan. “You’re trouble,” he tells you, “Tryna’ make me fat. I’m gonna go home and change into something cozier - jeans are fuckin’ tight.”

“Bet I could make them tighter,” you bite your lip and nudge his thigh.

“That’s a nice offer. You’re a charmer, Inglewood. Maybe later.” You huff as Joel picks up both of your plates and walks them to your kitchen sink, scrubbing and drying each one before pulling on his jacket. He walks back over to where you sit on the couch and points to the TV and his Nintendo, “Do not touch this,” he says, “It doesn’t have a memory card. So if you fuck with it, my progress is gone. Don’t unplug nothin’, don’t touch the TV, don’t–”.

“What if I–”.

Joel doesn’t let you get another word out, “Nope. Don’t do that either. Just leave it be, sit pretty and behave yourself. I’ll be back soon.”

You scoff and cross your arms as Joel leaves while staring at the paused screen of Joel’s game, then flicker your eyes lower to the controller Joel left on the coffee table. He didn’t say anything about playing the game. What’s the worst that could happen?

You reach for the controller and begin messing with the buttons, playing with the D-pad until the screen changes and you press ‘Start Game’.

The game starts. It catches you off guard. You fumble with the buttons until you figure out how to make Mario move, how to make him jump. A couple times you hit an angry looking mushroom and he dies. You snicker to yourself. Figures. Before you know it, you’ve passed Level 1-1 and you’re onto Level 1-2.

Level 1-2 comes and goes, and then Joel’s back at your door. You pause the game as he lets himself in. You wear a mischievous smile when you see him in his gray sweats and a t-shirt – your weakness. You can see the outline of his dick in those pants, and it sends a pang of arousal to your core. “Well don’t you look handsome,” you purr.

“Pipe down, horndog,” Joel sits down on the couch next to you. Before he can reach for the controller, you slide your hand over one of his thick thighs and palm his bulge, then slip your hand under the waistband of his pants and play with his cock. He sighs as you stroke him, his sweet sounds getting you all hot and bothered. His cock is thick and warm, half hard and growing harder, but he grabs your wrist and pulls your hand away. “Later,” he reminds you, “C’mon. I know you can wait. I don’t have much of the game left to play.”

“Okay,” you mumble. You scoot closer to Joel as he picks up the controller, wrapping your arm around his and resting your head on his bicep. You squeeze your thighs together tightly, trying to relieve some of the pressure at your core. He tries to shake you off of him, but you don’t budge. “I’m cold, Joel,” you protest.

“So get a blanket. I ain’t your heater,” he complains, but you feel him relax with your touch, snuggling up to you a little closer like maybe he’s cold too, “God, you make me nuts.”

You say nothing as Joel reaches for the controller, presses a couple buttons before the game starts again. He starts playing, then squints and furrows his brows. “Woah, woah, woah,” he says, “This ain’t right. What - why - what happened? Did you touch this? Tell me you didn’t touch this.”

“I didn’t touch it,” you lie.

Joel turns to you and glares, “What. Did. You. Do.”

“I tried out your game,” Joel continues glaring at you and you raise your arms in surrender, “What?”

Joel cups your cheeks in both of his big hands and shakes your head gently, “Why would you do that?”

“You told me not to unplug anything. I didn’t unplug anything.”

“I also told you not to touch anything,” Joel groans, “Do you know how long it took me to beat those levels?”

“Just pick up where you left off, Joel.”

“I told ya, it doesn't work like that. No memory card, no progress. I have to start over now,” Joel whines, “Why don’t you ever listen to me?”

“Beats me,” you say, “But–”, you take one of Joel’s hands from his controller and suck his fingers before slipping it under the waistband of your sweatpants, “Now we can get down to brass tacks. Hmm?”

“One rule,” Joel hisses as cups your mound, “I gave you one fuckin’ rule.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But now that you’re not playing Mario anymore, you can make me come. And then I’ll make you come. And you’ll forget you were ever mad at me.”

Joel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before turning to you, his eyes now mischievously lit up. “You’re right,” he says, “I’m not playing Mario anymore. You are.” He places the controller in your hands, “I told you I wanted to beat the game, and mayb then I’d fuck ya. So now you’re gonna get me back to where I was so I’ll finish up the game, and maybe, maybe after that, I’ll fuck you. Cause I’m not doin’ all of this again. I’ve got other games I wanna play too.”

“Piece of cake,” you reply confidently. Though really, playing Mario is harder than it looks.

“Oh, really? Is it that easy?”, Joel says, raising his eyebrows in amusement at your confidence as you nod, “If ya say so. I thought you said it’s harder than it looks. Whatever. Go on, then.” Situating yourself next to Joel, you adjust your grip on the controller. Joel’s hand is still beneath your pants, fingers resting against your lips. You look at him, wondering if he’ll pull his hand away. “You put it there,” he says. “It’s stayin’.”

Whatever. You start the game feeling confident in yourself, and then Mario hits a mushroom and he shrinks. And then he hits another mushroom, and he dies. Joel hums in amusement and you shove your elbow into his side. “I didn’t say anything,” he smirks.

It takes you about ten minutes to get the hang of it, but eventually you do. When you start a new level, Joel presses two of his fingers against your pussy and it startles you. Mario hits a turtle and he shrinks again. “Joel,” you gasp, “What are you doing?”

Dragging his fingers up and down your folds at a leisurely pace, Joel shrugs, “Nothin’.” He’s definitely not doing “nothing”. It’s getting harder to focus now, and you’re making mistakes, getting hit by enemies, missing those little mushroom power ups that come at you every so often. You huff in frustration, and Joel chuckles to himself, “You suck, sweetheart.”

“Shut up, Joel.”

He presses the tip of his middle finger against your entrance, pushes inside before pulling his finger back out and dragging it up to your clit, smirking when your breath hitches in your throat, “Do you need some help? Pointers, maybe?”

“No,” you grit, “Shut up, Joel.”

“Hmm, alright,” he hums, his thick fingers now circling your sensitive bud. You can feel his intense gaze on you as you play the game, squashing Mario’s enemies to the best of your ability, but you were right the first time, it’s harder than it looks. Joel turns his attention back to the TV, “Hit that box with the question mark.” You raise your eyebrow in suspicion. It’s probably a trap. With Joel, it’s always a trap. “Watch what happens,” he instructs, so you hit the box and a flower emerges. Joel tells you to jump on it, so you do. Warily, though. Mario changes outfits. “There you go. Now if you press B,” he taps the other button on the controller, “You can shoot those guys with a fireball. Try it out.”

Mario does in fact shoot fireballs at the enemies. This advantage makes the game come along smoother, so Joel ups the ante, drawing tight circles into your clit. “Joel,” you moan, “Quit it. You’re distracting me.”

“Thought you wanted me to make you come,” Joel taunts.

“I do, but not like thi–fuck–Joel, stop.”

“Tough luck,” Joel responds, “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

You do your best to ignore the sensation of Joel touching you, but it’s hard. He knows exactly where to touch you, how to touch you to make you squirm and moan for him. You have to fight yourself to keep your eyes from rolling back when Joel pushes two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out for a moment before abruptly curling them upward, hitting that sweet spot he knows and loves. “Jesus, Joel,” you moan, accidentally pressing the lower end of the D-pad. On the TV, Mario slides down a pipe and is brought to a new area. He’s able to run across the top of the screen, then finds an area with a bunch of pipes called the Warp Zone. This changes the game. You’re able to skip levels, making this whole thing go by even quicker. You’ll be on your way to fuck town in no time.

“Was wonderin’ when you were gonna figure that out,” Joel rubs his thumb over your clit as he fucks you with his two middle and ring fingers. You’re able to find a couple more pipes that allow you to go to Warp Zones, which doesn’t require quite as much focus on the screen. You allow yourself to savor the way Joel touches you, that warmth building up in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you moan. That familiar edge begins to creep up just as you’re finishing another level. Your breathing quickens, your pussy dripping and gushing with every movement of Joel’s thick fingers. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t–”.

“Thanks sweetheart. That was a big help,” Joel yanks the controller from you with his free hand, then pulls the other away from your core. Now that you’ve gotten him to where he left off in the game, he focuses all of his attention on the TV, as if he was never touching you.

“Are you serious?”, you’re in disbelief but Joel doesn’t answer, “Joel, I was about to–”.

“I know.”

You scoff, “Fuck you, man.”

“Yeah, I know you wanna. But I told you, you gotta wait til I’m done. You’re very forgetful, you know that?”

Frustrated, you shove your hand under your sweats and pick up where Joel left off. He clears his throat, “You can play with your pussy, or I can. Pick one but we’re not doin’ both. It’s up to you.”

Jesus fucking Christ. This is bullshit. Joel can take control of your TV, but not your pleasure. You watch him in astonishment, how he pays you no mind as he plays the game. His eyes are glazed over and his lips slightly parted, deep in focus. It’s like you’re not even there. You lower your eyes from his face to his lap where his fingers move deftly, still slick and shiny with your juices. His thumbs dart back and forth over the D-pad and the buttons, and you wish he was still touching you like that. Expertly, with dedication and precision. And then it catches your eye – the tent in his sweatpants, that little spot of dampness where his head rests against the fabric. He’s fucking rock hard from playing with you, leaking precome. You’re impressed with Joel’s ability to ignore his own arousal. Good for him. You, however, won’t ignore it.

In a swift maneuver, too quick for Joel to even process, you pull down his sweats and let his cock spring free, setting the waistband under his heavy balls. You don’t even think, you just do it – lifting up his arm, you dive under and grip the base of his cock. You guide his tip to your mouth, swirling your tongue around his swollen head before letting it part your lips. Joel groans, “Think you can play dirty too, huh?”

“Mhm,” you mumble against him.

“Knock yourself out,” he tells you, “You’re forgettin’ I have something you don’t – self control, my darlin’.”

You don’t care. This is more for you than it is for him, anyway. You haven’t gotten to taste him yet and it’s been on your mind. He tastes heady, salty, and slightly sweaty on your tongue. He’s warm and thick, you like the way his cock feels in your mouth. His smooth skin, how he squirms when you slide his cock to the back of your throat.

Joel groans as you work his shaft, one hand gripping his base, the other fondling his balls. You hum against him, sending vibrations down his shaft. He rests the sides of his hands on your head as he plays with the controller, pushing you further down on his cock. “Last level,” he tells you. You suck him mindlessly as he plays, listening to Joel hissing expletives. You smirk with him in your mouth knowing which of his curses are directed at you and which are directed at the TV.

Joel’s cock stiffens and twitches, he’s getting closer. You know it and so does he. “You know,” he says in a soft, warning tone, “If ya make me come, you’re shit outta luck. Can’t fuck you.”

Oh, shit. You weren’t even thinking about that. You pull your mouth off of him instantaneously, smacking your head against his controller and sending it flying out of his hands. “Fuck,” Joel barks.

The controller lands upside down on the corner of your coffee table, the buttons hitting the edge just so, and Joel watches in horror as Mario disappears from the TV and is replaced by the main menu.

You rub your head where you hit it on the controller, but Joel is no longer staring at the TV in disbelief. Instead, he’s looking at you. “Shit. I’m sorry, Joel,” you apologize, “I didn’t mean to do that. I’m really sorry.”

You expect Joel to be angry like usual, but he instead pulls your hand away from your scalp, lowers you so he can check the area you hit and give it a kiss, then lifts your chin back up while rubbing your bump. “It was an accident,” he speaks soothingly, “Mario can wait. Are you hurting?”

“Not terribly,” you tell him. And it’s the truth.

“No? You sure?” You shake your head no and Joel nods. He rubs your head for a little bit longer, his big brown eyes are soft and sweet and worrisome. The kindest he’s ever looked at you, kindest he’s ever been to you. And all you had to do was smack your head on his video game. He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, then pulls you close and whispers quietly, “Would you still like me to fuck you? We don’t have to if you’re not up for it anymore.”

You grin and nod your head, “Yes, please. I want it.”

“Get your ass over here, then,” Joel says as he lifts your hips and pulls your pants off, then pulls his own further down his thighs. He guides you to straddle his lap, holding his cock loosely between his middle and index fingers and his thumb. He drags his tip through your folds, then notches himself at your entrance before pulling your hips down, burying himself in you all the way to the hilt.

You grip his shoulders and press your forehead to his own, sighing softly as you get adjusted to his girth. “I missed your cock,” you breathe, “Missed it so much.”

“I know you did, sweetheart. I missed you too.”

When you’ve adjusted, you begin to roll your hips, rubbing your clit against that soft patch of hair at the base of his cock, moaning and grunting softly, “Oh, Joel. Feels good.”

“I know it does,” he sighs as he leans forward to lift up your shirt and pulls it off of your body, then takes off his own, “That’s better.” He runs his thumbs over the soft curve of your tummy, then slides his hands up your rib cage before cupping your breasts, twisting and rolling your nipples.

The way he looks at you makes your cheeks feel hot. You lean forward to hide your face, grinding your hips into him. He holds you close to his body with his hands wrapping around your back before gripping your ass and bouncing you up and down on him, stretching and parting your insides. You allow yourself to rest against him, letting him do the work and take care of you. His cock feels incredible. So thick, so hard, hitting against all of your favorite spots. “So good, takin’ me so good, sweetheart,” he praises, “Ya always do.”

Joel squeezes your ass tighter. He can see your reflection in the TV, loving the way your body moves, how you tremble, how you rock your hips, how you whimper his name. It’s all for him. “Wanna, fuck,” he sighs, snaking his hand between your bodies as he finds your clit with his fingertips, rubbing circles around it, “Wanna make you come on my cock. Make those pretty noises for me.”

With Joel’s cock hitting you right where you need him, his fingers playing with your clit, it’s not long before your orgasm approaches. “Right there, Joel. Like that, just like that,” you moan breathlessly, “I’m gonna come for you.”

“Yeah, gimme a good one,” he says. He fucks you expertly, each of his thrusts deep and intentional. It’s all for you. He just wants to watch you come, hear you moan his name, feel you soak his cock. Your breaths quicken and your moans quiet as you near your climax, and you come with loud cries and moans. Joel pulls you close, fucking you through it as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. “Fuck,” he hisses rocking his hips into you once, twice, three more times before he comes with a groan, painting your insides with rope after rope of his hot seed.

You fall forward, resting your face against the couch as you both catch your breath. He rests his head next to you, looking deep into your eyes before flicking his gaze to your lips, then back up to your eyes. You stare at his lips too.

“Your head still okay?” he asks, “Smacked it real good.”

“Think so.”

“Gonna keep an eye on it anyway,” Joel whispers, “What am I gonna do with you, Inglewood, hmm?”, bringing his hand to your face and rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. You’re still staring at his lips. His pink, pouting lips that have never kissed your own.

“I’m not sure,” you murmur, “What do you think?”

Joel runs his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling it down before letting go, “Haven’t got a clue.”

Joel leaves you to grab a warm wash rag and clean you up, then helps you back into your clothes. He reaches for the controller and starts up Super Mario Brothers one more time, and you snuggle his bicep like before. This time, he doesn’t try to move you.

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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months

Note

can i request geto and reader having an argument and reader coming back home drunk venting to geto about the argument they had🩷🎀

Getting back home drunk after an argument with Suguru Geto

Pairing: Geto x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: You always supressed the pain in your heart when your boyfriend dumps you for his best friend again. Until one day you've had enough. Until you get uncontrollably drunk to forget your fight.

Warnings: hurt to extreme comfort, language, reader being drunk lol

Hope you like what I came up with love, let me know what you think 🤍

„Hey sweetheart.“

Oh, how much you longed to hear his voice again, how long you’ve waited for him to come back. When was the last time you really saw your boyfriend? To be honest you lost count a long time ago. It shouldn’t bother you this much that he’s gone for so long. After all, Suguru is a special grade sorcerer, one of the best jujutsu sorcerers out there apart from Satoru Gojo himself. It’s only logical for him to be out on missions every free minute.

But there’s also Satoru. Satoru who’s busy himself. Satoru who steals your boyfriend every free minute. You tried to brush this ugly feeling away more than once. Are you really jealous because your boyfriend spends more time with his best friend when he’s around than with you in general?

Normally, it doesn't affect you this much. But since you haven’t spent more than 2 hours in a row with your beloved boyfriend apart from missions here and there, you can’t help but feel that violent sting in your heart when Suguru begins to pack his bag in front of your eyes.

“Are you leaving again?”

You desperately try to hunt away the petty tone in your voice, the feeling of frustration crawling up your spine.

“You know it’s been rough for Satoru these past weeks. As his best friend, I have to be there for him. We want to grab something sweet to eat-“

“You don’t even like sweets that much.”

Fuck, you hate yourself for your harsh tone, for the way your throat begins to ache in upcoming tears. Don’t lose your composure, just accept the fact that he’ll be gone today as well. But something inside you forces you to stand up, to cross your arms in front of your chest, to let your anger run free.

“But he does. What’s the problem, (y/n)? I just want to hang around with my best friend as long as I get the chance. Most of the time he’s on his own, going out on missions each and every day”, your boyfriend explains softly, his hand on its way to gently caress your head-

Until you slap his hand away.

“I’m having enough of this. When was the last time we spend time together, Suguru? You come back home when I’m asleep and leave before I wake up. I’m still your girlfriend”, you press out.

“This is the first time you ever said something about this. We’re still sleeping in the same bed every night”, he replies with low voice, making another attempt to touch you.

No. You can’t stand the feeling of his fingertips brushing against your skin, you can’t stand the stinging fact that he doesn’t seem to miss you the slightest. You take a big step back, blood pulsating through your veins. Why can’t he see that something is wrong in this relationship?

“Go ahead and sleep in Satoru’s bed if that’s enough then”, you bark back at him.

Suguru straightens his shoulders and crosses his very own arms in front of his chest, jaw tight.

“You know what he went through, (y/n). Do you really want me to leave him all alone over some cuddles? That’s pretty egoistic, don’t you think?”

You have to pause for a second, feel the sensation of your heart shattering onto the floor before his words truly hit you. What Satoru went through? You violently bite into the soft flesh of your cheek, desperately try to stop yourself from screaming into your boyfriend’s face. What about you, though? What about you almost getting killed because you tried to stop that man from following Suguru? What about you, caring for Suguru like no one else when Shoko healed his wounds? What about you, staying up each and every night and waiting for his return while he was out with Satoru?

What. About. You?

“You know what, Suguru?”, you mutter, teary eyes fixated onto the floor.

Never in your life did you feel this misunderstood. Doesn’t he miss you a single bit? Doesn’t he miss you lying in his arms while watching a movie, going out and grabbing something to eat? Doesn’t he miss to have you around, to hear your voice? Doesn't he understand that it's more than "some cuddles"?

You swallow hard. Because you miss him like hell. You miss those cuddles more than you ever imagined. And it fucking hurts to feel that he doesn't care.

“Fuck you.”

You can’t have it anymore. With a swift motion you turn on your heel and walk out of his room, ignore the way he shouts after you while hot tears stream down your face. There’s no way in hell you’ll stay here at Jujutsu High. No, you need distraction. And you already know who you’ll call.

“What’s up, (y/n)?”

“Shoko, get yourself ready. We’re leaving in 10 minutes.”

-at the bar-

You mindlessly draw circles into the fifth cocktail of the evening, mind clouded by guilt and alcohol.

“I told you alcohol won’t solve your problems girl”, Shoko comments dryly while sipping on her cola.

“Smoking doesn’t as well and still you’re out there smoking like a chimney”, you reply dryly before taking another sip of your drink just for demonstration.

“Fair enough. All I’m saying is you can’t run away from him.”

“Suguru? I already drank enough to forget his name”, you mutter.

"You just said his name, (y/n)..."

Truth is, you fucking miss him. What time is it? You lift up your drunk gaze, heart still clenched in sadness. Normally, you’d lay right by his side, eyeing him up and down while he’s already sound asleep.

This is not fair. You shouldn’t feel this way, shouldn’t fear to come back home. But you just know that you’ll get greeted by your very own empty bed. And what about the morning after? Shivers run down your spine just by the sheer thought of it. The way you just left him standing there like an idiot must have been hard to swallow for him.

Still…

You ball your hands into fists and empty your glass with one last gulp. He deserved every single word of truth that came from your mouth, he deserved all those things you’ve said.

“One more”, you mumble when the bartender arrives in your foggy view.

“No, that’s definitely enough for her. We gotta get going, (y/n)”, Shoko interrupts gently and pays for your bill while it takes all your inner will to not fall off this sky-high chair in the meantime.

The cold air of the night hits you like a wall, Shoko holding onto you with every bit of strength she has. Suddenly a wave of nausea crushes down on you, the icy air making your lungs burn uncomfortably. Damn, you just want to get home, just want to get into your bed. A glass of water…Yeah, you definitely need to drink something before you go to sleep.

But the sheer sight of Jujutsu High makes you realize that you won’t close your eyes this evening, pictures of your boyfriends’ hardened features still occupying your mind. You hate it. You hate every damn thing about the argument you’ve hard earlier, how unnecessary it was. Did he leave after you in order to see Satoru? The thought alone fills your numb veins with sheer anger again, makes you cross your arms in front of your chest just like you did earlier.

“You’re fine, aren’t you? I don’t want you to choke on your puke”, Shoko comments when you arrive at your doorstep.

Your fingers clumsily fumble for your keys until you finally grab the right one, gifting her a weak smile.

“Will get through it…Get ya ass into bed, Sh-Shoko.”

“You’ll talk things out tomorrow, okay? I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

You watch after her, how she disappears into darkness with one last wave. Then she’s gone, leaves you in the dark that seems to swallow you whole. What are you supposed to do now? All those memories flooding back in, the stinging fact that you don’t know how to act towards your boyfriend in the morning. All you want to do right now is take off your clothes, sip a cup of water and cry until you eventually fall asleep.

“Yeah”, you mumble to yourself while opening the door to your dorm.

“Cryin’ sounds good.”

“Hope you had a pleasant night, (y/n).”

Your heart stops, keys falling to the ground violently. No, this can’t be true. Did that really sound like…Suguru? Your tired eyes dart towards your bed, widen in sheer shock.

There he sits, on the edge with his arms resting on his knees, staring straight through your soul while all you are able to do is standing there like the drunk idiot you are.

“You drank, didn’t you?”

“None of your business”, you bark back at him, exposing yourself with your sloppy words.

“(y/n)…”

He sighs heavy, your name sounding so exhausting coming from his lips that your throat gets tight for a second. With a swift motion he lifts himself off your bed, his silhouette only lit by the moonlight that peeks through your window.

Just when he’s about to wrap his arms around you, you take a step back and almost trip over the bag you dropped onto the floor mindlessly the day before.

“Woah, easy there.”

Of course, he catches you mid-air. Of course, you feel like pudding in his strong arms. His scent hits you with full force, that baggy shirt not being able to hide his muscular frame from your trained eye. Oh, how much you’d love to lick his six-pack, to let your hands roam over his hot back. Why are you always this horny when you drank? But when your hand almost touches his chest, you remind yourself of what happened earlier.

The argument.

“Hope you had a great time with ya best friend”, you jeer at him.

Instead of letting go of you, he pulls you even closer. His eyes are near enough to inspect the colorplay of his chocolate brown orbs. If you stretch out your hand, you can play with his hair…

Get yourself together.

“Lemme go”, you protest weakly, almost tripping over your own feet while trying to get out of his arms.

“(y/n), look at me.”

You can’t escape his command. His eyes meet yours, reflect nothing but sorrow and sadness.

“I’m sorry for what I’ve said earlier. You made me think and I guess you’re right. I’m sorry for not making enough time to see you lately. It’s just that…I’m beyond stressed from all those missions and the fact that these people rely on me while on the other side, I don’t know what I’m fighting for anymore. I feel alone, trapped, lost in my fate. I feel guilty for the fact that this girl had to die, for the things that happened to Satoru…I…I feel like I don’t deserve a girlfriend like you anymore, your cuddles, your love, your food… You sleeping next to me felt so normal and familiar that it was everything I needed, (y/n)…”

Your foggy mind can’t comprehend all those senseless words put together, but his sight…The way his eyes turn glossy makes your heart shatter all over again, makes you wrap your hands around his neck out of instinct.

“No.”

You press yourself against his much taller frame, get lost in his scent, in his hair, in him.

“Please don’t say that. You deserve all the love in the world, Suguru. None of those things are your fault and I get it. Maybe I was the one being egoistic when all I could think about was having you for myself from time to time…”

“You running away in all that anger you supressed so long made me realize how much you really mean to me. I love you, (y/n). And I was the one being selfish when I cut you short because of my own feelings. I promise to make more time for you, at least two evenings in the week, I promise-“

“Shut the hell up”, you interrupt him with a wide grin.

“I don’t understand a word ya say. But I love you too, Suguru. And I want you to promise that we’ll watch a movie tomorrow.”

He sniffs while chuckling in the most precious way, his grip around your waist tightening.

“Oh yeah, what did you think of?”

“I thought about something like…Twilight!”

“I don’t know if I’m able to promise that, (y/n)…”

“You just did! Now, I’m so damn tired, let’s jus’ go to bed…”

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sourholland · 10 months

Text

timeless; thomas shelby

This idea has been plaguing my mind for days, I cannot get it out of my head. I’m not sure if I will make any more parts of this, it all depends on how I feel about it and if it is well received. The timeline of this is skewed on purpose, it’s also heavily based on Tommy’s time fighting during the war. Timeless by Taylor Swift was a huge inspiration.

Both you and Tommy became unlikely friends during childhood, only for you to realize you had always loved him. Tommy finds himself seeing you in a different light, only war being able to separate the two of you. (3.5k)

Thomas Shelby was the first and only boy you had ever loved.

It was 1902, Tommy was twelve years old. He played with your older brother, they went out into the street with the Shelby brothers and few other boys from the neighborhood and kicked a ball around. You were eight, trailing your brother Joseph at every chance you had.

When you met Tommy, it was because you had chased after your brother one August afternoon with the intention to join their game of kickball. The moment you approached the large group of prepubescent boys, Joseph looked absolutely mortified. Even though he was older than some of the boys, at fourteen, he still followed all of Tommy’s orders. This, you didn’t understand.

“Go home,” he leaned down to your level in gritted teeth.

“I just want to play, just one game,” you pleaded with him. “Please, Joey.”

“No,” he barked. “Y/N, you gotta get out of here.”

Feeling you face heat up, you were near tears and embarrassed in front of all of the older boys. Joseph would not let up, angry at you for trying to play with him and his friends.

“What the fuck d’she want?” Arthur bellowed towards your brother.

Peering over at him, you could tell that he was not very patient and was even older than Joseph. After Arthur had yelled, you turned back to go home. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you shuffled back to where you lived and went inside to play alone.

“Fuckin’ asshole is what you are,” Tommy shook his head a bit. “Game’s not fuckin’ hard or anythin’, Joe. She could have played.”

That was all they ever said again on the matter, your brother never brought it up to you that night and you never spoke of it to him. It wasn’t until later on that month that anyone had approached you about what happened that day in Small Heath.

You were sent out to pick up your mother’s cigarettes, dragging your feet along the dirt path with the coin in your hand. Every Wednesday, you made the same trek. Tommy Shelby came up on your right side as you walked one day, you saw a screwdriver sticking out of his pocket and nearly shuttered. The kids around the neighborhood spoke of him in hushed whispers, calling him a gypsy and saying he and his brothers carried razor blades around with them.

“You’re Joe’s sister, aren’t you?” He asked, peering over at you. “Tried to join in on a game a while back?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m Y/N.”

He hummed in response, kicking dirt with his shoe as you both walked. He was much taller than you, though he was still quite narrow and scrawny. Truthfully, there was no denying that you had a little bit of a schoolgirl crush on him.

“Where’re you headed?” He finally spoke up.

“Grabbing my mum’s cigarettes,” you told him with a sigh. “She sends me out every week to pick some up.”

At the time, you had no clue why Tommy had followed you all the way to the shop and then walked you home. He never gave you any inclination either. Then, he did the same the next week. He came outside when you passed his house and you walked together. This occurred every week after the first.

Of course, you assumed this meant he liked you and this caused you to revel in the attention just a little. Tommy would talk to you about school and horses mostly, he was kind to you.

About six months after you and Tommy had developed this weekly routine, you mentioned something to your brother about it and he teased you about having a crush on Tommy. Making the mistake of saying he must’ve liked you back if he continued to walk along with you, Joseph was quite cruel in return.

“He doesn’t do it because he likes to,” Joseph laughed. “Father started pestering me to walk with you when he found out you were being picked on in school, bothered and such by the boys around. I started to give Tommy a bit of my allowance to walk with you so dad would finally get off my fucking back.”

You no longer walked to the shops on Wednesdays.

Tommy waited for you the next week, but you never left out front and began past his house. The week after, he did the same and you still did not come.

“Y/N!” Your mother’s voice came up the staircase on Thursday morning. “Come to the door.”

Tommy stood there in the walkway to your home, talking with your mother about something as you came down the steps. She left you to walk outside together and down the stairs into the street.

“You’re not getting your mum’s cigarettes anymore?” He asked you suddenly.

“No, I am,” you told him. “Just don’t want to walk with you anymore.”

He seemed taken aback by this, not used to the idea of you sticking your nose up at him and looking the other way when he tried to talk to you. Tommy knew you were smitten with him, he didn’t mind it. He thought you were nice enough, he liked to walk with you every week. He just didn’t see you the same way that you saw him, you were too young and too curious about certain things.

“Why’s that?” He shot back a little annoyed.

“Joey told me that he’s been paying you to do it, to make sure nobody messes with me.”

“And?” Tommy asked. “Doesn’t really fuckin’ matter if you ask me, whether he’s payin’ me or not.”

This made you roll your eyes, shaking your head at him and leaning against the brick of one of the alleyways you walked down. Tommy was confused as to why this bothered you so much, truthfully it didn’t really matter about the money to him. It helped him to buy cigarettes, that was all. He didn’t mind walking along with you, though. He would’ve done it without the payout.

“It matters to me,” you told him. “I don’t need looking after or anything like that.”

Turning on your heel, you thought that you’d been able to get the last word. Little did you know, nobody but Tommy got the last word. He only realized you had decided to go out on Saturdays, rather than Wednesdays. He told Joseph that he wouldn’t be requiring payment anymore and you walked in silence for over a month before you spoke to him on your walks again.

His stubbornness irked you, leaving you infuriatingly mad at his inability to leave you alone. Your cheeks went hot when he came around, stomach in knots whenever he would say your name.

Over the years, you had tried to shake your feelings for Tommy. This was mostly due to the fact that you had grown attached in a way that allowed you to call him a friend. By the time you were eleven, Tommy had taught you how to ride his horse. He spent an entire summer working with you. He was fifteen and definitely had plenty of better things to do, but he spent hours upon hours in the grueling sun with you.

“Tommy,” you said, laying sprawled out on a patch of grass one afternoon when you were thirteen and he was seventeen. “D’you want to come ‘round to mine for supper tonight? Mum asked me to invite you over.”

The last bit was a lie, you truly just wanted Tommy to join you. He inhaled shortly before propping himself up on his hand and looking over at you.

“Can’t tonight, m’sorry,” he apologized to you.

“Why not?” You asked curiously, assuming he’d saying something about having to be with his brothers or Polly.

“I’ve actually asked a girl out,” he confessed to you. “I’m planning to take her out tonight.”

This was one of the few times Tommy discussed his love life with you. Your friendship mostly consisted of doing other things, less intrusive things. He still really saw you as a younger sister type of figure in a way. He thoroughly enjoyed your company, but there was no denying his attraction to the girls he saw in school.

Once, Tommy told you about Arthur bringing home a prostitute. He didn’t tell you why he did it, or what they did. Only laughed it off, unbeknownst to him that you really didn’t know what a prostitute was. Joseph had called them whores, but you lived a rather sheltered lifestyle and none of the older people around you ever spoke about such things in front of you.

Tommy took girls out, he’d had several girlfriends as you approached your later teenage years. Your friendship, however, never faltered. When you were seventeen years old, you remember going out riding with him and telling him how you wanted to make something of yourself beyond what Small Heath had to offer. Planning to become a schoolteacher, Tommy had always admired this about you.

“Don’t you want to be something other than all this?” You asked him, alluding to the fact that he was growing more and more responsible for the Peaky Blinders. “I mean, I just wondered if you ever had other dreams.”

“I’d like to work with horses,” he told you quietly, running his hands over the mare’s mane.

“Why don’t you?” You questioned him. “I know you feel some sense of responsibility over your family, I think it’s one of your best traits. Don’t you ever want to just—I don’t know, live a less tormenting life?”

Tommy played with the reins, looking at you and shrugging. This was all he’d ever known, and all he would ever know. There was no Birmingham without Tommy Shelby, you knew it as well as anyone. It still hurt, though. Knowing he was playing with fire every day, testing God, as your mother had called it.

Once Tommy had grown more involved in the gang, your parents no longer allowed him to come over to the house. They detested you seeing him at all, your brother most of all. He settled quickly, marrying a woman and starting a family.

Tommy realized he loved you when he was twenty two years old. He’d known you for ten years, having called you his best friend for a decade. You were eighteen years old and had just begun training to become a teacher, you were commuting frequently and saw Tommy less and less.

It was that Christmas when you’d introduced him to the man you had been courting, his name was Michael. When he shook the man’s hand, Tommy felt something inside of him shift. Suddenly, you were no longer that little girl with scuffed shoes and long pigtails. He saw a young woman with ambition and heart, but you were no longer holding out for Tommy like you had for nearly ten years.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Arthur came up and clapped Tommy on the back of the shoulder. “S’fucking Christmas and you’re really bringing my spirits down.”

Tommy said nothing, downing more whiskey as he watched Michael spin you around in a dance. You were in a fit of laughter, smiling at him adoringly.

“Be serious, brother,” Arthur sighed, drunk and wondering how Tommy could truly be as he was. “You can’t tell me that you’re sitting over here in the corner drinking away your sorrows because she’s brought along some bloke.”

“Fuck off, won’t you?” Tommy shot him a look.

“Unbelievable,” Arthur walked away laughing.

It was completely and utterly unbelievable, not only to Arthur, but to Tommy as well. He’d spent years with you, practically praying that you would find someone, anyone to avert your feelings too. As you grew older, you also were able to hide your feelings and emotions better in Tommy’s case.

He watched you the entire night, nodding a farewell when he noticed you trying to approach him. He had no intention of speaking to Michael again, for fear that he may be physically ill.

His hope that it was a passing courtship died with what looked to be your close friendship. The two of you hardly saw each other anymore, animosity forming between you after the night of the Christmas party.

Months later, Tommy found himself at your apartment door when Ada had told him that you mentioned thinking Michael was planning to propose. He left to see you after midnight, walking the entire distance to where you lived and putting himself at your front door well past one in the morning.

“Y/N,” he called out as he knocked. “It’s Tommy.”

Opening the door, you were only left in your nightdress. Your hair was down completely, something Tommy had not seen since you were some years younger. He could not help but to notice the sheer material of the fabric, the buds of your nipples showing through.

“Tommy?” You yawned. “What’re you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you,” he told you.

“Now? It’s the middle of the night.”

Ushering him in, you let him shut the door behind him and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Tommy felt himself growing hard, looking at you in such a state.

“Y/N, don’t marry him,” Tommy blurted out in almost a whisper.

“What?” You looked at him, shocked. “What did you say?”

“Don’t marry him, don’t marry Michael.”

There was a stillness to the room, a silence that made you almost sick. His face was somehow stoic, but pleading at the same time. His eyes bored into your own, as if they were making it impossible to get a word out.

“He is a good man, Tommy,” you said. “He wants to take care of me, to make me happy.”

“With plenty of money and security, with a practical occupation and a good legacy to leave your children?” Tommy asked, sarcasm incredibly evident.

“Yes, Tommy. Fuck, I mean is that what you want me to say? That he can give me a good life? Why should it matter if he’s got money?”

“It shouldn’t, not if you love him,” Tommy told you. “Do you?”

It felt as if you were eight years old again, confronting Tommy about why he was walking with you in the first place. He looked at you with such yearning, such longing. It was as if he was begging you not to say yes, pleading with you not to have already devoted your heart to this man.

There was only one truth of the matter. Thomas Shelby was the only man that you had ever loved.

“Tommy, I have only ever loved you since I was eight years old,” you whispered.

As if unable to hold back any longer, Tommy embraced you fully and brought you into his arms. He kissed you furiously, without any doubt or question that you were meant for him. He let his hands run up and down your back and pulled you into his body.

Before you gave into your urge to let him rip your sheer nightdress off of you, you pulled away with swollen lips and eyes full of desire. This was not right, not until you spoke to Michael. Regardless of how you felt for Tommy, you could not do this to Michael.

“Not yet,” you whispered. “I gave a man my word, I need to speak to him before I can go any further here.”

Tommy respected your choice, he knew you wouldn’t want disloyalty on your conscience. He just nodded his head and placed a hand on your cheek gently, it was in these moments that he forgot about everything else.

Michael didn’t take the news very well at all, his ego was bruised and he pleaded for you to reconsider. He told you how deeply he loved you and how you had led him on, making him believe that you two would have a life together. He was right, you had encouraged him in all of his dreams of your future and you had done it without ever considering how it may end. It was selfish.

It took you weeks before you agreed to see Tommy again after Michael had left you feeling so guilty. Nights of tireless sleep, you would look up at the sky and pray to god that you were making the right decisions.

Over a year into your training, you would soon be able to do what you’d always dreamt of. Dark times approached, though. There were ghosts of whispers at every street corner, they spoke of war so feverishly. It was as if death was due to knock at the doors of families, stripping women of their husbands and children of their fathers.

The thought of this had left Tommy quite stoic most of the time, he held a monotonous view on the entire matter. Every time you had brought it up to him, he told you how he would be expected to fight on behalf of his country if it came down to it.

And so he did, when it came down to it and Britain had joined the War—The Shelby brothers and hundreds of other men in Small Heath joined as well.

“Tommy,” I sniffled as I watched him from across his bedroom pack a small bag of things. “I need you to promise me that you’ll come home, that you won’t die out there. They’re saying things about trench warfare, it’s all really terrifying—”

Tommy crossed the room and took your face in his hands, kissing you hard on the lips, as if it was the last time he would ever do so. A piece of you wondered if he believed that he would die out there.

“Please come home,” you breathed.

“I will come home,” he kissed you again. “I promise you.”

You planned to hold him to this promise. Having waited ten years for Tommy Shelby, you would wait however long more so long as he would come home to you.

It took two months before his first letter would come after you watched him depart on that large ship. Long months of kneeling at the foot of your bed, begging god not to take Tommy. Everything that was being said about the war was absolutely tragic, soldiers being blown to pieces or rotting below the earth in the trenches.

My Dearest Y/N,

I wish I was able to write to you sooner, I cannot say where I am for the risk of interception. Just know that I have never been in such conditions in my life, I spend my days underground. I have taken the role of a tunneler. Trench warfare has not been good to any of us, I find myself fantasizing of the end of this long hell.

I stare at your picture every night before I shut my eyes, dreaming of what it would be like beside you. There is no greater sorrow to me than your absence from my life at this point in time. I can only hope that it will not be for long.

Not long ago, myself and a group of men were gassed. I watched a fellow soldier go blind for nearly three days before he finally came out of it, only with some permanent damage. There are times when I have thought to myself, ‘Perhaps if I was hit, it would not be so bad. Perhaps even death is better than fighting in this war’.

Then I think of you. I think of the promises I made to you before I left to fight in this god awful war. I cannot understand how men are expected to live like this, nor how we will continue on. I was up to my knees in water last week, the trenches dark and desolate as we waited for the storm to pass. There is so much waiting these days.

I look forward to your letter.

With all of my love,

Tommy Shelby

#elle’s fics #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagines #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader

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star-girl69 · 5 months

Text

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

sypnosis: clarisse comforts you after a nightmare.

a/n: when luke in ep two said “we all get those super bad recurring nightmares” i don’t think he expected for me to screech and kick my feet and make fanfiction out of it. anyways, i hope you all enjoy!!

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby - Cigarettes After Sex

warnings: nightmares obvi, mentions of death, mentions of violence, kissing, soft clarisse I NEEEEDDDDD YOUUUUU, pretty much cutesy tho, not proofread, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Clarisse always called you baby. She called you about every nickname under the sun, but she always came back to that one. That’s exactly how you ended up here in her bed.

You’re both not quite asleep yet, staring at the ceiling, listening to her siblings still shuffle around. Clarisse has the best bunk in the cabin, a single in the corner, and all the power and influence to make sure that no one snitches.

She only does this every once in a while, dragging you to her bed even while you worry about getting caught, calling you baby the entire time. She kisses your worries away and says that no one will care, no one will even notice.

It’s not like you’re doing anything bad, you’re just sleeping.

You recently got a new cabin mate, a very sweet boy who seems very scared and very young, but Gods does he snore extremely loud. You almost wonder if the healers should have a look at him- but he seems to have no clue that he snores.

You’ve dealt with snoring half-siblings for years, but none of them have been this bad before. It’s so loud you swear it sounds like a roaring truck.

And of course, Clarisse noticed. Clarisse noticed how hard it’s been to sleep lately, she noticed how you always seemed to reluctantly split up from her at the end of the day, she noticed the bags under your eyes.

As night continues to fall, Clarisse’s grip on you becoming looser as she slowly drifts off.

“Quiet, right?” she mumbles, kissing your forehead. You listen to her heartbeat. Much more comforting, much more rhythmic, much more her.

“Quiet,” you affirm.

“Good. I-I’ma fall asleep now. Night, baby,” she mutters, and you can feel her heartbeat slow and she’s out like a light.

Clarisse has always had this amazing ability to just knock out whenever and wherever. Even for a five minute power nap, she can lay her head on the table and be up and refreshed. Sometimes you even swear she closes her eyes and falls asleep standing.

You follow her.

It’s so quiet here, except for her breaths brushing against the top of your head, except for her heartbeat like a lullaby. It’s such a cold summer night, but you’re so warm in her arms.

Falling asleep is a lot like falling in love, because it’s all the same action of letting your guard down and letting something in. You fall asleep every night just like you fall in love with Clarisse every day.

—-

It’s cold. It’s so, so cold. There’s the ashes of a fire next to you, and you feel so startlingly alone, like you shouldn’t be alone.

You’re in the woods, but there’s sand on the ground instead of dirt and leaves. You’re in the woods, but there’s leaves on the trees even while you’re teeth chatter.

You stand up, bare feet sinking into the cold sand, your arms wrapping around yourself. You’re supposed to be warm in her bed. All your wearing is a t-shirt. It’s like you’re at the beach at night and you forgot the sun is the reason it’s hot.

There’s a whisper of a sound, like wind blowing, and the fire springs to life.

You gasp and jump back into a tree, the rough bark scratching at your back.

You look around but there’s nothing, no weapons, and the tree branches are too far up to rip one down. There’s no wood burning the fire, just ashes. But now that you look at it, the sand around the fire is covered in some sort of bubbling black liquid.

Only on one side, like it had been blown at it.

There’s some sort of slithering sound, like a snake, and talons dragging against a tree, like a knife.

It’s coming from above you.

You look up and barely have a second to realize a drakon is staring down at you, roaring right in your face, before it looks into your eyes and you can’t move. Can’t breathe.

You can’t do anything except for get swallowed whole.

—-

You jump up, blanket’s falling around you, gasping as you look around the dark room. But it’s not there, it’s not that weird place, it’s just the Ares cabin. It’s just Clarisse’s bed. It’s just Clarisse.

She shoots up right behind you, awake immediately.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you whisper, thanking the Gods none of her siblings have woken up to see you so shaken by a stupid nightmare. “Nothing, sorry.”

She looks out into the darkness like she’ll see something, but she doesn’t, of course, it’s all in your head. You know it’s all in your head, but you can’t help feeling like it’s real.

“It’s not nothing.”

You lay back down, pulling the blanket up to your chin. You stare at the wooden ceiling.

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” you finally mumble.

“Y/N.” She always calls you baby, except for when she really wants to get your attention. “Tell me what happened.”

“Stupid nightmare. It was stupid. It’s all stupid and embarrassing.”

You can feel Clarisse visibly deflate. She settles back down next to you, laying on her side.

“It’s not stupid,” she whispers. “It’s normal. For demigods, at least.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.”

You press yourself closer to her and she lets you, she wraps her arms around you tight and folds herself around you. You feel shaky and uneasy, like there’s something under the bed, no matter how childish you know it is.

“Tell me what happened and I’ll tell you how I would have fixed it,” she says, her lips brushing your temple. She adds after a moment, “Or kill it. Was it a monster?”

“A drakon,” you whisper. She hums.

“Did it breathe fire? Spit acid? Have those creepy paralyzing eyes?”

“All of it.”

“Ooh,” she mumbles, like it’s a challenge. “I would… blind it with the electricity from my spear. And while it’s distracted, I’d stab it however many times you wanted.”

“I didn’t like that place either,” you whisper. “It was so cold. So dark, and it was like a forest was on the beach, cold sand.”

She doesn’t say anything.

Her hand travels up your body, tracing your face until she draws circles at your temple.

“I can’t protect you from what goes on in here. But I’ll always be out here, baby.”

“I know,” you say, and it’s true. “I know you will be.”

“So you won’t mind me telling you eight more times?”

“No,” you breathe, smiling.

“Good,” she kisses your temple. “I’ll always protect you. I’ll always protect you. I’ll always protect you. I’ll always-”

You shut her up by pressing a kiss to her lips. She smiles against you, slow and sweet, just you and her.

She drags herself up on the pillow, so her head is above yours, her arm under your head. Her other arm around your waist, hand splayed flat against your side.

“Sleep now, baby.”

“Clarisse.”

“I’m right here,” she says, like it’ll solve all the problems in the world. Yeah, the cabin’s burning down, yeah, there’s a tsunami coming towards you- but she’s right here. She’s right here. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby.”

And you believe her.

Clarisse always calls you baby. She whispers that name in your ear until you fall asleep.

—-

y/n, waking up: omg that was so scary

clarisse, fully ready to start attacking the air: WHERE THEY AT BABY WHERE THE DEMONS AT WHERE DO U SEE THEM

we love a gf who supports their slightly schizophrenic gf (me, i am the slightly schizophrenic gf)

—-

me after choosing a drakon (the monster that killed silena in the last olympian) as the monster that kills y/n in the dream 😊😊😊😊😊

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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thatsdemko · 8 months

Text

with feeling - j.hughes

masterlist

pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

warnings: fake dating trope + one bedroom trope + jack being an asshole + angst + fluff at the end

a/n: HOCKEY IS BACK EVERYONE!

so maybe it wasn’t so bad to be “tied” down to a man you never actually loved in the first place. that’s a lie, it’s actually far worse.

he’s not a bad person, he’s not a bad kisser, and he’s certainly not bad looking, but his personality is far worse than shit.

his bright smiles and adorable laughter only go so far in a picture to make him seem like he was perfect, except he was so far from it. with his jagged persona and his inability to remain in an actual relationship, jack hughes was a sore spot in your heart. meaning, you knew what you signed up for, he would never actually love you.

and while smiling for his family and holding his hand in the secrecy of his family’s private summer home, there was only so far you were willing to go to prove to Ellen hughes you actually loved her son.

“I’m not sharing a room with you.”

“it doesn’t look like you have much of an option.” he snaps, words cut like a fork scraping a plate, irritation grew in your body. you knew why she did this, she believes you two have far more in common than trying to make each other roll your eyes, but this was too much. you’d rather sleep in a ball in the sand than share a queen size bed with him.

“I wish I had another option.” you mumble for only yourself, however he catches your words and just rolls his eyes continuing to unpack his things.

“you had an option of not coming. now look at the mess we are in.” he gestures his hands to the bed and around the room like a disaster had fallen amongst the four walls. if this was the worst of all things to happen to him, he had a hell of a storm coming for him one day.

you turn your head in his direction, you watch him anxiously tug on the brim of his ball cap before tossing his duffel bag beside the dresser of his clothes. his body collapses against the mattress making the frame squeak under his weight, “can this week be over already?”

“it’s only beginning.” you whisper hearing the echoes of laughter and music begin to make their way up the stairs, the music grows louder and Trevor’s voice bounces off the walls. you can already feel the impending headache.

here goes nothing.

—

“jack tells me you met at the bars in jersey?” Quinn takes his first dig, the two of you sit in the lounge chairs watching the other boys swim around the lake and toss around a ball that you two had no interest in.

“yeah and he wouldn’t leave me alone.” you stifle out a chuckle because out of your whole story full of lies, that was the only bit of truth. he’d followed you around like a gnat always in your face and never leaving your sight, and that’s when things began to fly south.

“he has a tendency to be very clingy when he’s drunk.”

“you don’t say.” you tilt your sunglasses down to the edge of your nose looking over at the eldest hughes who barked out a laugh in response.

turning your head in the direction of the sun, your eyes automatically fall onto the three boys in the lake: Trevor, Alex, and jack. you can’t help but let your heart melt like butter at the sight of his tanned shoulders, and muscular arms, it makes your heart jump like a kid playing hopscotch with a smile on their face.

you watch him make his way across the sand, tossing the ball in his hands he tosses it over to Quinn before slipping his wet body against yours and taking a seat on your lap. show time starts now, pretending to be in love in 3,2,1…

“saw you watching me.”

“actually I was looking at Alex.” you point your index finger over to the brunette who quickly presses a kiss to your cheek, “I knew my dimples had an affect on you.”

you can’t help the laughter that rumbles out of your body, if it wasn’t for jack hughes tying you down, you’d be all over that dimpled smile and curly black hair. but alas, the long dirty brown hair and rosy sun kissed cheeks was yours.

“I have a very adorable smile too.” jack argues flashing you a cheeky grin before getting up off your lap and taking the lounge chair beside you. you can’t help rolling your eyes, despite how your heart certainly agrees when he flashes you another wide smile before turning back to his two friends.

“you have the worlds biggest ego that’s what you have.”

“she has a point.” Quinn nudges his way into the conversation earning his brother to glare at him. it’s no secret, jack grew up with people petting his ego and feeding into his greatness, and once you didn’t confined to the rest of the worlds views, that’s when he began to notice how different you were. it automatically drew him to you, and he loved that you didn’t care that he was the worlds best hockey player, you just hated him for him.

“don’t let her win she always does.”

“I’ve actually never won an argument with you, so please yeah I would love this win.” your additional comment earns jack to roll his eyes, and just like usual this is how the banter is. you edge each other on with lies and jokes to see who will crack first, this was truly the foundation of your fake relationship. it started out with a lie and a joke. now look at you two.

he licks his bottom lip, you can see the wheels in his brain are spinning faster than a hamster wheel. he’s trying to find anything to get even, but nothing comes. he just relaxes against the back of the chair and closes his eyes, “enjoy your win.”

“oh I will, this is just the beginning of your torture.”

like it wasn’t enough torture to see you in a skimpy bikini and have to use all of his self control to not inappropriately touch you, and like it wasn’t enough torture that he has to share a bed with you.

yeah, he’s definitely had enough torture on day one.

—

“you want to split an ice cream cone with me?” you turn to Luke, looking up at him, he’s nothing alike to the two of his brothers. he’s got soft curls and an absolute killer personality.

“only if we get sprinkles?”

“now you have taste.” you nudge your shoulder into his bicep. you stand along side luke at the counter while he orders for you both, jack stands a couple feet away with Trevor, the two still deciding, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“what’d you get?” jack swoops in, his arm wraps around your waist and pulls you closer to him. the man behind the counter gives you both a knowing look that he had taken the hint, but it wasn’t him that jack was trying to make a message to.

“I’m sharing a cone with Luke.”

a frown forms against his lips as he lets go of your waist, “I thought we would share?”

you offer him your best apologetic look, “Luke and I like the same ice cream, you can share with Trevor.”

“I’m not sharing with Trevor.” he pouts watching luke hand you the ice cream cone. you swipe your tongue around the sweet cream swallowing the sprinkled deliciousness, “you want a kiss instead?” you offer, licking the sweetness that’s left on your lips before jack takes his thumb and swipes the corner of your mouth.

“you know,” he leans closer to your ear just for you to hear, “I don’t like sharing. especially you.”

“it’s just ice cream.” you tell him giving him a rather pointed look that earns him to back off. you know his words had zero meaning behind them. and even if they did, you still would roll your eyes, but if they were true, you’d actually kiss him to prove him you love him. instead, you stick with just pinching his side to receive a grunt from his lips.

skipping out the store doors, you and luke find an empty table to dig your spoons into the cold soft serve ice cream, “do you think he’s really mad about this?” Luke asks, mouth full of the sweet flavor, you swear by the look in his eyes it’s like he’s never had a taste of sugar in his life.

you shake your head in response, digging your spoon into the sprinkled goodness and listen to the bell of the store door chime. Trevor and jack join you both, they sit opposite to you two and it’s pure uncomfortable silence.

“should we buy turcs something?” your offer is innocent, nothing but a pure suggestion for the boy who didn’t join you four in the adventure. but there’s a look in jacks eyes that wishes you would just stop. he wishes you didn’t show an interest in anyone else.

“he doesn’t really like ice cream.” Trevor pipes in with a shrug of his shoulders, you can tell he’s trying to ease the mood, “but I’ll leave him a bite of my ice cream.”

“you’re a good guy, Trev.” you smile up at him, his dirty blond hair curls over top his forehead just above his eyebrows. your dashing smile earns him a little blush that quickly pales away when jack shoots him a look.

“I’m full the rest is yours.” you say to Luke and drop your spoon onto the brown napkin. the glares and intense stares from the man across the table was enough to ruin your appetite. what was with him? not even a month ago jack was calling you buddy behind closed doors, now in front of his family and closest friends, he chose to be an asshole? he truly is one man that’s hard to fake date.

—

“good night.”

he softly closes the door on his mother. she’s whisper rambling on about protection, and other embarrassing things, that you can slightly make out, but jack just closes the door. he says it’s better to stop her before she changes her mind and makes you sleep on the couch.

“so what was with you tonight?” you bite the bullet. there wasn’t a question in your mind you didn’t want answered, and after the ice cream show down you stood your distance from him. even when he rested his hand on your thigh, you made it obvious you weren’t in the mood.

he’s taking his shirt off when you look up from your phone. the white shirt is thrown over his head and soon right on to the floor among many other items of clothing, “nothing was with me.”

“please,” you bark out a sarcastic laugh. you sit upright in the bed, he paces the floor unpacking his clothes and preparing for the next morning, “you don’t like sharing me? what’s that all about?”

“I see the way you flirt with my friends.” he says so in a matter of fact tone, like it’s not news to him how you interact with everyone, “I know you want to fuck Alex.”

rolling your eyes, you toss a pillow in his direction, it hits the side of his head making him turn in your direction, “you are ridiculous, jack! I’m with you—“

“not really! this isn’t even real. you don’t like me like you like Alex.”

his shoulders slump, he crawls into bed, he curls his body close to yours, “you don’t actually like me. you’re just with me because you have to be.”

an unconscious scoff leaves you lips, “jack, I wouldn’t be spending a week with your family if I actually hated you.”

his ears perk to that, head snapping upward to meet your eyes, “what do you mean?” he asks. the words so faint against his lips he’s sure you didn’t hear him.

“I mean I like you, but man you’re the worst date ever.”

he springs upward, mouth slightly agape, “I—I was only ever being rude because I thought you hated me?”

you’re shaking your head at him. he’s unbelievable, and to think that was all his true personality, his next move proved differently. especially when it landed soft against your lips, then stronger with each passing second.

“I actually like you too, with strong feeling by the way.” he whispers these words in between breaths and gasps that escape both of your lips.

“we should stop here before your mom hears us.” you push his face away gently, “but that’s good to know you’re not actually an asshole.”

he barks out a laugh collapsing beside you, “it was hard to be an asshole to you, but now that that’s out of the way can I take you on a proper date?”

“absolutely.”

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hotmencoreplus · 8 days

Text

DOMESTIC 141 + KÖNIG HEADCANONS

Pairings: Captian John Price, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish, Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, König x fem!reader (she/her)

Summary: Random headcanons of what TF141 + König are like domestically/ as fathers.

Warnings: Deployment, pure domestic fluff

Word count: 1000+

A/N: Choosing baby genders based on what I can picture more. I appreciate feedback! Let me know what you think :)

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this sideblog @hotmencoreplus for the account, @hotmencore

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE

‣ Definitely 1 girl, 1 boy.

‣ Is very big on respect. If either of them disrespect you, shout, or start being bratty, he is right on it.

‣ Got his boy into football at a young age, and is the loudest dad out of them all. He will be shouting to him on the field just like when he barks out orders to rookies.

‣ Always wants to go on fishing trips. Always. I feel like it would be something him and his daughter do more than anyone.

‣ He isn’t big on technology at all. Pretty much just because he just can’t wrap his head around it.

‣ I imagine him keeping up with the new iPhone models, but would not change a thing about them. This man has default everything on his phone (apart from his lock screen of you and the kids).

‣ He is 100% one of them dads that never know what to call airpods.

‣ “What was it he wanted for Christmas? Airbuds? Earpods? iBuds?”

‣ “Airpods, John.”

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

‣ 3 girls. You cannot convince me otherwise. And he definitely secretly hoped for all girls.

‣ When Simon is home from deployment, they go to him for everything.

‣ Nightmares? You will wake up in the morning to find him missing from your bed, only to find him asleep, half hanging off of one of their beds with his arms round them on his chest, snoring loud.

‣ Simon is so usually on edge, though has learnt to zone his girls out when they are arguing.

‣ “Dad, tell her I’m right.”

‣ “Hm?”

‣ He especially zones out when his oldest girl is talking about school drama. He isn’t listening to a word of it, sat on the living room sofa with his head leant back, eyes shut, humming every so often to make it seem like he is following.

‣ I don’t think he ever shouts. Raising his voice for assertiveness? Yes, but he never shouts at his girls. It reminds him of how his dad use to be with him, and the thought of being even a smidge like his dad really scares him.

JOHNNY ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

‣ 2 girls.

‣ He aspires for them both to be bestfriends.

‣ He aspires to be their bestfriends. Like he admires them both.

‣ He will never turn down a tea party invitation. Never.

‣ You’ll be cooking dinner, and have no idea where Johnny is. But you hear distant giggles, and follow them up to your daughters’ room. There, you find your military husband sat at a little plastic table, wearing a tiara, clinking tiny cups together with your daughters and their little bears.

‣ “Well it’s nice to see you again Mr. Snuggles. And who is this new gue- oh, hey lass. Wanna join?”

‣ When they start to grow up, he lets them experiment with make up on him.

‣ And seeing your military husband with sparkly pink eyeshadow on and red rosy cheeks really is a sight for sore eyes.

‣ When on deployment, he will tell any and every story of his little girls to anyone that will listen. He loves to show them off.

‣ This ‘anyone’ is usually Ghost.

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

‣ 1 boy.

‣ Definitely has a modern style for his kids. He 100% bought him a pair of adorable tiny airforces.

‣ Is his son’s biggest supporter, in everything.

‣ He is big on praise. The biggest softie ever.

‣ Will put up every single painting his son has made. Your fridge is literally covered in paintings, drawings, pretty much anything made by your little boy, will be put up somewhere in the house.

‣ He vlogs literally everything. More than you.

‣ He watches them all when on deployment, missing you both, usually forgetting about sleep so that he can rewatch his little boy’s first steps for the 100th time.

‣ He also big on getting his boy into his own hobbies. Even though he has no awareness to suitable ages.

‣ You’re on the phone with him one night whilst he is away, as he talks to you about what he wants to get your son into.

‣ “When I’m back I’m gonna take us clay shooting. I reckon he’d like it”

‣ “He’s 2 Kyle”

KÖNIG

‣ 1 girl, you cannot argue.

‣ He worships the ground his babygirl walks on.

‣ He will literally do anything for her. And you, of course. But his little girl is the light of his life.

‣ He loves when he is home because he takes every opportunity to dress his little girl. Every single time he does he is internally screaming at the size of the clothes.

‣ Every. Single. Time. He will come home from deployment with a bouquet of flowers for his wife, and pull out a singular flower before he reaches the door to give to his babygirl.

‣ You are definitely the one wearing the trousers in the household, always having to put your foot down. Because there is no way this man could ever say no to his little girl.

‣ Is always taking photos of the both of you. Always. He isn’t often in photos himself, but will never miss an opportunity to take one of either of you.

‣ When he is home and takes care of your daughter whilst you go to work, he will be sending you videos and photos 24/7 as little updates.

‣ I can imagine him being the driest texter on the planet. Like he is a proper dad, will just send a ‘👍’ or one word answers. So these photos and videos will rarely ever have context. He will just send them randomly.

‣ Is completely unaware of suitable bedtimes for kids. You will spend a night out with your friends, and come back in at like 10pm to find him up with your toddler making pancakes.

‣ “König! She should have been in bed at 7pm!”

‣ “Oh”

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 platonic #könig #simon ghost riley #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #call of duty #dad!reader #husband!reader #könig fluff #fluff #domestic fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley

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hearts4hughes · 1 month

Text

I HATE IT HERE | JACK HUGHES

summary: in which her relationship with jack seems too good to be real. (0.7k words)

authors note: taylor really called out us delusional girlies and daydreamers with this song! it’s my favorite on the album and it deserves something so enjoy this very short writing!

"come on, don't be scared," jack chuckles as he slowly guides you. you look down, a suspiciously nice pair of skates clad to your feet.

"i'm going to fall!" you squeal, attempting to mimic the way he skates.

his giggle fills the cold air surrounding you. after a day of cozying up together in jack’s lake house, he gets the bright idea that he wants to teach you how to skate. after going to the store and buying you a pair of skates— that he won’t specify the price of— he leads you outside onto the ice. it takes you about ten minutes to even step foot onto the frozen death trap. but with your boyfriend’s persuasive smile and adorable face, you land yourself on the ice, anxiously moving your feet side to side.

"you're fine," he says, his hand moving to your waist. in the cold michigan evening, his hand on your waist sends warmth up your spine.

it all feels too surreal. from the dusting of snow around you to the romantic atmosphere, you feel like you're in one of your favorite romance novels. it all feels too familiar, and at the same time, your eyes scan around you, trying to treasure the moment.

jack stares up at you with a toothy grin. he looks at you like you’re the only girl in the world; like you hung the stars in the sky.

“what are you looking at, rowdy?” you say with a smug expression. his face flushes a deep maroon and his eyes fall to the ground. “going shy on me now, are we?”

“i feel like you’re forgetting who’s teaching you how to skate right now.” his hand falls down your waist, giving your butt a squeeze. your bottom lip juts out as he lets out a boyish grin.

“shut up and show me how to move faster.” you retort, though a pink blush still lingers on your cheeks.

jack takes one hand off of your waist, turning his body and slowly demonstrating how he pushes his leg out at an angle. he swiftly picks up speed as you hold onto him. it looks so simple. all it is, is the movement of his legs and feet, but as you try it, you slip, clinging to jack’s body and pulling him down with you.

somehow, his body hits the ice first and you land on top of him. your eyes are wide as you both look at each other. as the realization of what happens sets in, you both bark out in laughter. you snuggle your face into the crook of his neck, an attempt to silence your laughter.

“i love you so damn much.” he says in pure awe.

“i love you so damn much!” you mock him, lifting your head from his chest and staring at him below you.

his cheeks are pink from the cold and his hair a wavy mess that not even the winter hat on his head can hide. your eyes flick down to his lips. they look so plump and kissable.

you lower face, stopping just an inch above his lips. he smirks, “what are you waiting for?” his words are barely above a whisper, eliciting butterflies in your stomach.

but just as your lips press against his, you hear a distant voice.

“y/n?” mr. samson, your ap history teacher, calls out. “are you paying attention?”

you blink, looking around the classroom. you’re in high school, not michigan, and the boy nearest to you is not jack hughes. the realization sets in, causing a pit in your stomach. you suddenly feel nauseous.

had you daydreamed about a relationship with jack hughes once again? no, you couldn’t have. it seemed so real; it felt so real. it was almost like you could feel jack’s hands on your waist, leaving a permanent stain of warmth around your hips.

you swallowed harshly as everyone’s eyes followed you awaiting an answer. “y-yes.” your voice was shaky. people in the back of the classroom snickered at you as others furrowed their brows. your skin felt hot with embarrassment. it was nothing like the flush you felt when jack complimented you.

“ok then.” mr. samson said as he continued his lesson.

you sighed, grabbing your pencil and copying down the notes on the board. you pushed back the recollections of your daydream, putting them into one of the many secret gardens in your mind. they would stay there patiently awaiting until you unlocked and relived them again.

if only.

#nora’s writings 💐#jack hughes #new jersey devils #nhl imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes imagines

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libraryofloveletters · 8 months

Text

chapter seven: what's the worst that can happen?

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: babysitting/playdate uncle mickey for the girls, a sweet mention of michael <3, seb is sooo love sick, < mick thinks it's hilarious, fun date stuff, some kissing because seb is loving on his lady, mick teasing the two of you, a few cheeky comments, illusions to 18+ stuff at the end ;)

Word Count: 2.7k

Author’s Note: finally giving y'all wanted to see; the y/n and seb date! there's a fun lil surprise at the end for you freaky fuckers ;) enjoy it :)

sugar and spice; all things nice masterlist

---

"Which one?" Sebastian asks, the one hanger in each hand.

Mick looks up from his phone, finding Sebastian in front of him extremely serious about which shirt he should be wearing on his date with y/n. "Oh Seb," the younger German laughs, "you're nervous!"

"I am not!" He groans, rolling his eyes at Mick's teasing - he was sooo nervous. "Just help me pick a shirt, Mick."

"You're like a teenager with a crush," he smiles, making Sebastian groan once again but he nods towards the baby blue button up. "That one."

"You're a pain in the ass, Mick." Sebastian tells him as he hangs the white shirt back in the closet.

Mick shrugs, making himself comfortable on Seb's bed. "Just doing what dad would do." He says, both of them sharing a smile at the thought of Michael; he would have definitely teased Sebastian about his nervousness, but he would have been the first person to support whatever this was between him and y/n.

The thought is pulled away when they hear the little footsteps coming towards the room, Milly pushing the door open as she flings herself into her uncle's arms. Mick catches the girl, hugging her before he pulls her up onto the bed with him.

Sebastian smiles at the sight of them; Mick's holding the girl, Amelia sitting on his lap as she tells him all about the stuff she has planned for her, Olivia and Mick to do.

Had you told him when he met Michael all those years ago, as a young RedBull driver, that his daughter and Michael's son would be like siblings, he would have never believed you.

The doorbell rings and the girl jumps off of the bed, pulling Mick behind her. The man follows her without much of a choice.

"That's Liv! C'mon uncle Mick!" She shouts, running out the room with Mick right behind her. The two of them make it downstairs, Angie pawing at the front door while barking. Mick opens the door, the little girl runs in and hugs his legs.

"Hi Mickey!" She smiles at him and he smiles, reaching down to pinch her chunky cheek.

"Hi sweetheart, come in." He steps aside, scooting Angie back a bit so they had space to come in.

Angie was licking Liv's hand, Milly making the introduction between her best friend and her fur friend. The two girls run off towards the living room after Milly waves hello to you and Mick shuts the door behind you.

He smiles when he sees you, "wow.. you look beautiful."

"Thank you, Mick." You smiled. Angie was running up to you, standing on her back legs as she put her paws on your thighs, barking for some attention.

"Angie! Down!" Mick wags a finger at her and she does drop back down but she barks at him, giving him a look that you can only assume was for ruining her fun. You laugh, kneeling down to pat her side. "Hi pretty girl, dad's no fun huh?" You made a face at her, the dog nuzzling into your arm as you scratched her belly.

"You're spoiling her," Mick laughs when you stand up, Angie running off when Milly calls for her.

"She's adorable. Is Seb ready?"

There are footsteps from your left, you both look towards the stairs where Seb was coming down. "I am."

Mick can't help but laugh; "you know you're supposed to be picking y/n up. This should be the other way around."

You smiled at the boy's comment and Sebastian rolled his eyes, coming down to kiss your cheek. "We're not a very traditional couple, Mick."

Seb takes a moment to admire you; a red top that fit you perfectly and was just low cut enough to leave him wanting more, jeans that were made for you and only you; he resisted the urge to grab your ass in front of Mick - don't want to traumatize the man that's babysitting your children.

"You look.. wow." He smiles, making you chuckle. "You look pretty wow yourself."

"God, this is like watching my parents flirt," Mick gags, walking into the living room.

Seb takes that as his chance; his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him, hand slipping down to rest on your ass when he kisses you.

"Behave," you mumble, wiping the lipgloss off of his lips. He rolls his eyes playfully, "says you."

The girls were playing with Angie on the floor, Mick stretched out on the couch with the TV playing; very big brother, little sisters coded of them.

"We're heading out now." Sebastian announces and the girls come over, hugging you both goodbye. You give them both a kiss on the cheek, making them promise not to give Mick a hard time while Seb was off to the side talking to previously mentioned man.

"So do I get one of those too?" Mick asks when Seb finally lets him go.

Your brows furrow but Mick glances at the girls but turning his face to the side and leaning towards you. Laughing, you kiss his cheek and leave a red kiss shaped mark on his cheek as you had done with the girls.

Sebastian holds your hand, leading you out of the house before you get a chance to change your mind.

You shout on the way out of the door. "Have fun, you guys! Call if you need us!"

The two of you ended up taking Seb's car - he didn't let you drive, claiming that you driving over was all the driving you'd be doing for the night. Sebastian had planned the date, you had no idea where the two of you were going, or if you were even dressed for the right occasion.

So when he pulled up to the parking lot and the neon sign read mini golf, you looked over at him a bit confused. "Are you serious?" You can't help the laugh.

Sebastian shrugs, "Mick suggested it."

"No wonder," you chuckled, getting out of the car. Seb's cheeks are red, his hand resting on your lower back as you two walk towards the front door. "We can leave.. I can think of something-"

"Relax," you reach for his arm, giving it a squeeze. "It's an odd choice but, I'm sure we'll have fun."

"Okay," he nods, exhaling as he opens the door for you. "I haven't been on a date in a long time.. so I'm a little out of practice." The man admits his thoughts and feelings to you and yet there you were making a joke; "Right, I forget you're 800 years old."

Sebastian rolls his eyes. His hand that previously rested on your back reaches over to pinch your hip teasingly, making you smile. You often tease bit about him acting older than he actually is; a lot of the things that you tell him or show him, he doesn't even have a clue about.

Despite the two of you only having a five year age gap, Seb was an old soul in comparison to you.

Not that you minded, you appreciated the stability that he brought into your life as well as Olivia's.

"But don't worry, me either." You tell him, referring to his dating comment. "At least not a good one, anyways."

"So you're certain this one will be good?" he raises a brow, making you laugh yet again as you two walked in.

You nod, smiling at the man. "I think so."

The two of you decide to play a few rounds, making it around the course. It wasn't until you made it to the last hole that the two of you decided that you wouldn't be playing another round.

"Go on," he tells you, letting you hit the ball into the hole. It misses the hole by an inch and you watch as Seb purposefully misses his shot as well.

You line your club up with the ball. "You didn't have to do that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He smiles, clapping for you when you get the ball into the final hole, you take a small bow and hand him your club.

His hand rests on your lower back yet again, leading you towards the exit. "Shall we get out of here?" He asks and you nod. "Where to?"

Sebastian, a gentlemen as always, opens the door for you to get into the car. "I know a place," he tells you before shutting the door and getting in.

It was about an hour drive away. The two of you chatting away as Sebastian drives down a lonely road that leads to what seems like the middle of nowhere. You look over at the man, a bit confused before turning to look out of the window yet again.

There's a big blue sign coming up to your left that reads; drive in movies.

You smile, turning back to Seb as he drives through the gate. "What are we watching?"

"I believe they have the cabin in the woods running tonight." He tells you, pulling into a spot towards the back. It was fairly empty so you could still see the big projector screen.

"You know," you start as you two get out of the car, meeting by the side to walk towards the snack booth. "I hate scary movies."

Seb's arm links with yours, pulling you into your side. "I'll protect you," he says, a goofy grin on his face as he raises his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, laughing as you two pick out some snacks.

The two of you return to the car, settling into your seats as the movie begins. It's gotten about 30 minutes into the movie before the first scary thing happens, causing you to jump in your seat and spill popcorn everywhere.

Sebastian looks away, his hand over his mouth as he snickers and you can't help but laugh, your hand reaching out to smack his shoulder. "It's not funny!"

"It kinda is," he chuckled, leaning over to give you a kiss.

The popcorn is long forgotten, Sebastian's hand resting on your jaw as he kisses you. Your own hand wraps around his wrist, pulling him closer. Leaning over the centre console, Seb's hands begin to wander, his lips traveling from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck.

Your cheeks flush red when you realize you're still in public, anyone can look over and see you. "Seb," you whispered, the man mumbles against your neck, moving further down.

A hand holds his chin, forcing him to stop and look up at you. "What?"

"Not here," you smiled at him, giving him one more kiss before wiping the lipgloss off of his face.

It made you smile; at your grown age, he still made you blush and giggle like a teenage girl.

It was nearly 10:30 when the movie ended and Sebastian asked you if you'd like to get dinner. You nod, "but will Mick be okay with the girls?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine. We can call if you'd like?"

"Please," you smiled and Sebastian pulled his phone out and called Mick, the two of you watching and waiting to see if they'd pick up.

"Hey," Mick smiles when he answers, sitting on the couch. "Hey," the two of you say at the same time, making you laugh.

"Girls!" Mick calls out to them, knowing that's who you wanted to talk to. Milly and Liv come running in, Angie running behind them as they climb onto the couch with Mick.

The two of them shout hello, overlapping each other as they tell you how much fun they're having with Mick. Liv holds his hand up, "mom look!"

Mick had blue and purple nail polish all over his nails. The man bites back a smile, Milly giggles. "He let us do whatever colour we wanted!"

"That's nice, girls. We're gonna be out a bit longer, will you guys be okay with Mick?"

"Yeah!" They say together, making you smile. Seb tells them to listen to Mick and that when he says it's bedtime, they've got to go to bed. They agree and run off to play again, leaving Mick with the phone.

"Soooo.." he smiles when he gets the phone back, "how's it going?"

"Good," you tell him, "we'll be out a bit later though, you're sure you'll be okay with the girls?"

"Absolutely, I'll put them to bed. You two take as long as you need." He says and you smile when you thank him. You hand the phone back over to Seb and the younger German laughs when he sees his friend.

"Why have you got sparkles on your face, Sebastian?" He asks, a smirk on his face.

Seb rolls his eyes, "shut up, Mick."

Mick can hear your snicker from behind Seb, making him laugh. "Gross you guys. Okay bye, have fun.. but not too much fun!" He says in a fit of laughter when Seb hangs up on him.

"Where to now?" You looked over at him and Seb shrugged. "Dinner?" He suggests and you nod, "but what's open? Most places close at 10."

"I think I saw a diner, unless you want McDonalds or something?"

You hum, taking a moment to think. "Either is fine with me," you smiled.

The man nods, pulling out of the lot. You two end up in the parking lot of the diner only to realize they were closed. It wasn't until you were almost back home that Sebastian pulls into a McDonald's, the only place that was open at this time of the night. You aren't sure since when restaurants close at 10pm on a Friday, but you went along with it anyways.

A brown paper bag sat on the middle console as the two of you ate chicken nuggets, at midnight, in some sketchy McDonald's parking lot.

"You didn't actually say that," you look over at him, taking a bite of your nugget. Seb nods, "I did; I was racing, I was faster, I passed him, I won." The man shrugs, a wicked grin on his face.

You roll your eyes, "you were so cocky."

"If only we had met sooner," he says, leaning back in his seat, head turning to look at you. "I would have charmed the panties off of you."

You snorted, smacking his arm. "You can still do that now, Seb."

He smiles, his head reaching over for yours. Seb's fingers interlock with yours. "Shall we go home?" He asks.

"Will Mick be okay with the girls for a bit longer? I was thinking.. we could, you know.. go back to mine."

"Yeah?" Seb raises an eyebrow, "what for?"

You shrug, smiling at him. Seb gets the hint; "I'm sure he'll be fine. Shall we?" You nod, smiling. "You're the driver, so please."

It's a short drive back to yours and Sebastian follows you inside, his hand holding yours as you walk in. He stopped in the entryway, you were up the first two steps.

"What?" You look at him and he shakes his head, smiling as he follows behind you. You make it up the staircase, stopping again outside of your bedroom and Seb looks at you.

You weren't sure if you were making the right choice; you wouldn't be able to go back if you did this.

"Are you sure?" You asked him quietly and Seb nods, his hand cupping your jaw before he leans in. HIs lips ghost over yours, "I've never been more sure in my life."

Sebastian closes the gap between the two of you, your hand fumbling behind you to open the door. The two of you are tangled together, hands all over each other, lips moving from one spot to the other as you stumbled to the bed.

He lets you get on before joining you, moving to settle between your legs before kissing you again. One by one, the clothes end up on the floor in the pile.

"You're sure?" Sebastian looks down at you, your leg on his hip.

You nod, pulling him down for another kiss. "I've never been more sure."

if you weren't tagged in this, it's because the limit was met. I'll add the rest in a reblog!

taglist: @lighttsoutlewis @hc-dutch @laura-naruto-fan1998 @dubistweltmeistersv5 @kakorrhaphiphobia @myescapefromthislife @f1medlife @charles-dimple @hockeyshmockey @ellethewitchbitch @handsupforamiracle @ads-skywalker-leclerc @anicega @ship-slut @bigdicric @mysticalnightenthusiast @ellalovesvettel @lettersfromvenus @coincidence-ithinknots-blog @coldheartedmar @koufaxx @alexander-hamilhoe @charlewisss @mistrose23 @mehrmonga @eclairmcqueen @consisedictionaryofmistakes @nyenye @callsign-scully @molliemoo3 @like-fire-love-blog @agentstarkid @rose-tinted-juls @lynnismypseudonym @gagaga167 @dreamycloudsworld @motorsp0rt

#sugar and spice; all things nice series #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel fluff #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 series #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader

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silverflqmes · 2 months

Note

begging for a cloud x reader fluff of reader hiring him to help her get her cat stuck out of the tree but he loves her so much thats it free of charge

໒⦂ 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐄.

notes. CLOUD HELPING A KITTY YES<3 anon you are onto something fr tysm for this request, i hope this fulfills what you had in mind, it’s a little on the shorter side.. but enjoy<3

genre. fluff

cloud strife x gn!reader.

getting a cat out of a tree was the last request cloud would have ever thought he’d receive. what was he, an animal whisperer? he could barely communicate with people as it was, and now.. he was standing at the base of a great oak, lips flattened, with mild regret weighing on his conscience.

oh, the things he did for love.

“cloud, be careful! she’s shy around people!” you warned him a few feet away, gazing up at your feline companion — who clung helplessly to a worn down branch.

the blond had to wonder what on earth possessed your fuzzy friend to go into a tree and find the worst possible branch to lay on. it was completely absurd, and downright risky??

a sigh left his lips as he grabbed onto the protruding pieces of bark, shaking his head. “it can’t any worse than getting stabbed in the same place twice.” the former infantryman muttered, scaling the tree slowly, carefully.

cats were typically.. skittish. he remembered that much at least from the time he’d helped out wedge with finding his. therefore, the spiky haired male had to be slow with his advances and quiet, as they didn’t favor loud noises or sudden movements, either.

as cloud finally reached the level the cat was on, he shifted to sit on a sturdy branch, locking eyes with sora — your calico kitty.

distress was evident on her features as she let out a meow that sounded more or less like a cry for help, but the mercenary could tell she had been on guard, too.

“you’re doing great cloud!” you cheered from the ground, stepping closer in case your friend decided to jump down rather than accept your lover’s assistance. “almost there!”

his lips pursed together at the praise, cheeks tinting with pink as he lowered himself, almost hugging the bough he sat atop. “pspspspsps..” ugh, this is so embarrassing. “over here, sora.. gonna need you to inch closer.” he mumbled to the cat, outstretching his hand as far as it could go — which.. was just barely out of reach.

meaning, your feline friend would have to find it in herself to not only put her trust in him, but risk the wood snapping beneath her in an attempt at moving in on him.

a tough decision, indeed.

a frown ghosted the blond’s lips as he curled his fingers toward himself, a gesture to urge the cat to follow. “this is so stupid.. come on, please? y/n’s worried about you.” he pressed, scooting forward, only for the cat to scoot back. just.. great.

cloud let out a groan, nearly tossing his head back, but he didn’t want to risk scaring her. “they’re expecting me to save you, and you’re very important to them — which..” he grumbled, looking away. “means you’re important to me, too.. pay or not.”

something almost seemed to change in sora’s ivy orbs as she blinked up slowly at the other, considering his words — from what he could tell, at least.

you found difficulty in making out their conversation, or well, whatever cloud was trying to tell your cat. it seemed he wanted it kept between her and him.

despite the current situation, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh into your hand. and he said he wasn’t an animal whisperer.

feeling the tips of his ears redden at the intense stare he was given, the owner of strife delivery service let out a low exhale before reaching his hand out one last time. “come on, y/n has treats waiting for you and somewhere way more comfortable to hang out than.. whatever spot you found here.” he added awkwardly, closing his eyes to receive his rejection once more, only.. it never came.

a low crunching noise filled his ears and his sapphire-mako eyes shot open, finding that sora had shifted closer.. at the expense of the branch she held onto.

panic flooded cloud’s system as lunged forward for the multi-colored cat, stretching one hand out to retrieve her while the other grasped onto the limb he previously sat atop.

the gasp that entered his ears was expected, followed by the noise of surprise you’d let out when he safely caught sora.

when aquamarine met olive, cloud shook his head at the cat in his hands before bringing her close to his chest and allowing himself to drop. “you need to be more careful. you may have nine lives, but i don’t..”

a confused meow, as though the feline was feigning ignorance ( most likely ), had been the only response cloud earned in return for his doings as he felt her cheek nuzzle into his chest. were cats always this bipolar?

with the danger gone, you ran up to your boyfriend, panting in relief at the sight of your furry companion clinging him. “geez, — that nearly gave me a heart attack. you just had to wait till the last minute.. you’re lucky cloud was there!”

sora seemed to lower her ears into something akin to the wings of an airplane before she leaned into her savior more, purring quietly.

the action had you gasping, appalled and yet.. touched at the same time that she had taken a liking to your partner.. unless it was just her being defiant.

still, it made cloud blink, not used to being favored by animals as he sheepishly placed a gloved hand to pet her gently. “um.. maybe just stick to cat condos from now on..” he offered quietly when you peered over at him expectantly.

notes. cloud with kitties will never not be cute — i wish he picked up wedge’s cat like tifa did during the plate fall😭 but it’s fine, edits and art exists.. anyways, i hope you enjoyed anon<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

#— ; 🏹 ) final fantasy vii fics.#cloud x you #cloud x reader #cloud x y/n #cloud strife x y/n #cloud strife x reader #ffvii #cloud strife x you #cloud strife #cloud strife imagine #ff7 #cloud ffvii #cloud ff7 #final fantasy vii x reader #final fantasy 7 x reader #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy vii #final fantasy cloud #cloud strife fluff

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ryukatters · 9 months

Text

4EVA (that means forever) - s. gojo

⟡ Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader

⟡ Content/warnings: //smut, //cockwarming, //unprotected smex, overstimulation, //cunnilingus, //cum eating, some dub con if you squint, lovesick! Gojo, Gojo’s also a little shit but what’s new? (Pls let me know if I forgot anything)

⟡ A/N: brain go brrrrr. i want him so bad. completely not proofread

⟡ Summary: I know two things and two things only: 1) Satoru Gojo is obsessed with you and 2) he is obsessed with overstimulating you

⟡ wc: 1.8k

Your boyfriend is annoying.

You hate him. You want him. Everything’s too much. It’s not enough.

You snap out of your stupor at the sound of Satoru’s voice. “I thought I told you to focus, sweetheart,” he tuts with a teasing tilt.

You want to scoff. How could you not focus when the very person asking you to is the same one that’s consuming all your senses?

“Fuck you, Satoru,” you hiss. Unsurprisingly, no matter how much venom laces your tone, your words go rushing straight to his dick. You’re just too cute, all the time, Satoru thinks. Especially when you’re like this, completely at his mercy. All bark and no bite. Though he wouldn’t mind if you had the latter, either. He likes it when you put up a fight, because making you fall apart is so much sweeter that way.

You can feel him twitch inside you. The dull throbbing within you makes you shudder with pleasure, still over-sensitive from how Satoru’s managed to fuck you until you’re cock-drunk and delirious. A whine manages to escape from your lips, and Satoru can’t help but laugh. You can snap at him all you want, but he knows exactly how to give it to you, just how you like it.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he hums into your ear, running his large hands up and down your body in an attempt to comfort you. Goosebumps are left in the wake of where his burning hands pass. “Sensitive, huh? I haven’t even done anything to you.”

Liar, you think. Gojo’s managed to take orgasm after orgasm out of you— always urging you with a, “It’s okay baby, I’ve got you. You can give me one more, right?” —no matter how much you whine that it’s too much.

He’s insatiable in every regard to you. If he could, Satoru thinks he’d crawl under your skin and live there.

You want to cry. You feel so very overwhelmed, all senses heightened. The hot puffs of Satoru’s breath over your neck, the way one of his hands squeeze at your tits, and the way the other snakes down between your legs to rub loving circles into your clit.

You gasp at the sudden surge in pleasure, head lolling back to rest on Satoru’s shoulder. You can still feel his lips against your neck, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he presses a kiss followed by a hard suck and loving bite against your jugular. Your hips involuntarily lift up, walls dragging against Satoru’s cock. He hisses before he slams you back down into his lap.

“Nuh uh, pretty girl,” he borderline growls, hand leaving a warning slap against your clit. “The whole reason we’re here is because you didn’t want to behave. You’re going to take what I give you like the good girl I know you are.”

You nod like you understand, but your mind is far too hazy to take in anything aside from how your boyfriend is making you feel.

“Toru, toru, fuck. I’m gonna cum,” you cry out, nails digging deep crescents into either of your boyfriend’s thighs.

“Yeah? Cum for me then, sweetheart.”

The coil that’s slowly been threatening to unravel this whole time suddenly snaps, sending you spiraling into a state of euphoria. The pleasure is so mind-blowing it feels like you’ve ascended to heaven.

Satoru’s eyes roll back into his head as he lets out a guttural groan. Your pussy pulses around his length, and he only gives a few shallow thrusts before a moan comes tumbling out of his lips and he paints your insides with his cum. His grip on you somehow gets even tighter, strong arms squeezing you as he rides out his orgasm, like his subconscious is determined to meld the two of you into one.

You can barely comprehend what’s happening to you as Satoru slips out from behind you, and forces you onto your back as you hit the mattress with a soft thud. Your eyes flutter shut as you come down from your high.

You feel a dip in the mattress by your legs. Your thoughts go static still. No, it can’t be. Your eyes snap open to see Satoru make himself at home in between your legs for what feels like the hundredth time today.

He smiles sweetly up at you, planting a few open mouth kisses down your stomach and on the insides of your thighs. Your eyes meet his, and you’re hit with an overwhelming surge of emotions. Satoru’s eyes are blue like the clearest sky, and they could never hide anything from you. Right now, all you can see is pure, unadulterated want. There’s a predatory glint in his eyes that makes your legs feel like jelly. You stiffen, breathing jagged as your heartbeat quickens.

Satoru wastes no time in pressing a sweet kiss to your clit, sucking lightly. His hands have a vice grip on your hips as you thrash beneath him, willing you to stay in place.

“Toru, please,” you cry out. It feels like you’re begging, but you’re not quite sure for what. Release? Or for him to let you go so you can wipe that smug grin off his stupidly handsome face? “It’s too much, I can’t—“

“But you can, pretty,” he hums, with so much conviction that you start to believe him too. The subtle vibrations of his murmurs against your pussy do nothing for your near-delirious state. “And you will,” he says with finality.

There’s no room for arguing, because what Satoru wants is what Satoru gets.

And what Satoru wants right now is for you to fall apart even more for him, to feel the squeeze of your thighs against his head as you try to rock your hips against his face until he passes out.

“Besides,” his tongue prods at your entrance, “we need to clean you up somehow. You’re dripping.” And to prove his point, he drags two fingers inside you, expertly hitting that spongey spot that knocks the wind out of your lungs and has you seeing stars. You can vaguely make out the lewd squelches that fill up the room, and the warm mix of yours and Satoru’s cum dripping out and down your slit. Your boyfriend watches in a trance as the milky white slick dribbles out of you, slowly but surely on its way to wet his bedsheets. He wastes no time in lapping it up before it can even hit the sheets. It would be a shame for any of that to be wasted, he thinks.

“Look at me,” he demands. You manage to weakly prop yourself up on your shoulders, tears threatening to spill as Satoru continues you finger you. You look so needy, so pretty like this. Your lip juts out in a slight pout and Satoru swears he can cum just by looking at you. “There’s my good girl,” he all but coos.

“You’re so perfect,” he rasps, and he shudders at the way you clench around his fingers at his praise. He alternates between sucking at your clit and licking up and down your pussy, moaning at the way you taste when combined with him. You taste phenomenal normally, but the fact that you would even grant him the privilege of letting him ruin you has his mind reeling, and it makes him a little crazy.

You’re so, so close. Your eyes screw shut in an attempt to drown out everything that isn’t Satoru’s tongue and fingers. Just a little bit more— then all of a sudden the mind-numbing pleasure is gone, ripped away from you.

“I thought I told you to look at me?” Satoru’s voice cuts through you, and although there’s a slight teasing tilt to his question, you know better than to disobey him a second time. That smile on his face promises no mercy.

“Satoru, I—“

“If you want to cum, keep your eyes on me.”

You know not to argue with him when he’s as pussydrunk as he is (though you also know that even if you didn’t listen, he’d let you cum anyways. Satoru could never refuse you that.)

Satoru swears he’s found heaven between your thighs as you grind your pussy against his face. He’s practically making out with your pussy, looking up at you with hearts in his eyes as he suckles on your clit, his saliva mixing with your slick that begins to pool beneath you. Your incessant whines and chants of his name fill his ears and he feels dizzy. You look at him, dazed, and he can’t help but think that he’s never seen a sight more beautiful than you.

A melody of your ecstasy and his bliss fill the open air. The wet sounds of his tongue slurping your pussy and his fingers stretching out your tiny hole are enough to make your ears burn. But all of that hardly matters when Satoru takes one of your hands and places it on top of his head, urging you to card your fingers through his white locks, tugging a bit roughly, just how he likes it. Satoru doesn’t let up, and the way he’s going down on you almost feels greedy.

The familiar pleasure bubbling up within you threatens to spill again, and all you can do is babble as a tear slips down your cheek. Satoru hasn’t stopped looking at you, and even with him practically devouring you, the stare he gives you is primal and hungry.

“You’re about to cum, aren’t you baby?” Though it seems more like a statement than a question. You nod desperately, clenching around Satoru’s fingers.

“Need to cum so badly, Toru. Pleas—“ you begin to plead, but you’re cut short by a hard suck to your swollen clit and Satoru thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a quicker pace.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I know. I’ll let you cum.”

You trill as you hit your umpteenth climax, with Satoru not stopping his ministrations until you’re pushing him away. He pulls away from your pussy with a slight pop and smiles at you, chin shimmering with his spit and your juices. He cages you underneath him, and gives you a loving kiss on the lips before he pulls away slightly.

He grips your jaw, tapping his index finger against the plushness of your cheek. He grins when he hears you whimper. You open your eyes to meet his once more. “Hey, pretty girl.” Satoru coos, sickeningly sweet. You can feel a wet spot accumulating on the apex of your thigh, followed by a few taps of something hard.

“Think you can give me one more?”

Then y’all go for 3 more rounds

Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not repost or translate my writing anywhere.

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heartless-tate · 2 months

Note

I have a request!!

I need some angsty Rhys x reader like I need the air I breathe. I’m talkin someone died and was brought back by the grace of the Gods or something along those lines. And I need the other party to lose it.

Can be smutty too I won’t be mad about it. But if it doesn’t fit don’t force it. Love your works! You’re a fabulous writer 💜

Come back to me | Rhysand X Freader angst

A/N: sorry it took so long! I’ve been very busy. P.S this shit wasn’t proof read so if it sucks it sucks. I’ll do better on my upcoming fics 😭 And thank you so much anon!

warnings: death, allusions to sex, wasn’t proof read 🥴, MDNI!!!!

“No!” Rhysand snaps at you. You growled challengingly at your friend. He was so fucking stubborn.

“Rhysand I swear to the cauldron above I will skin your ass if you don’t let me go on this mission.”

Rhysand bristles at your new threat. You were always creative with them. His eyebrow quirks. He sighs and rubs his temples. He looks around his office as if trying to find an escape. He stands abruptly and approaches you. His wings gently cocoon you, and he drops his head on your neck defeatedly like a pouty child.

“Don’t call me that...” he mutters into your skin. Your fae ears catch it. His breath was warm against your skin, and you wondered briefly why he had been so touchy as of late.

“What?! Your name…?”

“Yes.You always call me Rhys- call me anything but my full name. We’re closer than that dear.” He whispers, lifting his head up. You huff. You wonder why you feel your body gets hot at the nickname. It was just Rhysand- he gave pet names to others. Right? Your eyes find his violet ones. You were tempted to scream at him again but you saw his tired eyes, and softened. You sigh.

“Fine. But I’ll go with you.” Rhysand spoke before you could say anything else.

——————

It wasn’t just Rhysand that tagged along. Azriel and Cassian did too. Whatever- at least you got to go. Ever since your best friend, Rhysand, returned from under the mountain he’s been weirdly protective. He had always been protective- but now he was outrageously paranoid of anything harming you. It was odd.

You were on a simple mission. Track down a group that has been disturbing some of the night court’s cities, take them out. Simple really. Or so you thought. Once you had successfully tracked the group down, Azriel had stopped any of you from proceeding further. He wanted to observe the band of rouges to see what they were doing. And their powers. You didn’t see a point in it- as you were there. Azriel was there. Cassian was there. Rhysand was there. You four could take out this lowly group in minutes! Or so you thought.

After about three days of restless following the group, it was safe to say you were ready to take them out. You didn’t pay any mind to Cassian trying to stop you from proceeding. Azriel had been scouting the area for any others. Rhysand was with him as back up. Leaving you and Cassian to watch the group. You felt a hand grip your wrist and jerk you back..

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” Cassian whisper-barked at you.

“Cas- I’m hungry. I was just going to get some food.” You whispered sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him. His eyes softened he contemplated.

“Fine stay here, don’t move and keep your eyes on them- I’ll go on a quick hunt real quick.” He muttered. You smirked in victory once he left, now it was time to show them that you could be helpful.

————————

“Something’s wrong. I sense it.” Rhysand yelled to Azriel over the wind. There was no other members of the band of rouges around. Azriel flared his wings slightly and nodded in response.

“Let’s head back, I’m sure everything is fine.” He responded.

Rhysand wasted no time and turning swiftly in the air. He started a fast pace back to the camp where the group was resting. Azriel followed suit. Something was wrong. He could sense it. His skin had goosebumps, and he felt restless. He had a shaky feeling of anxiety. Why? He couldn’t figure this out.

The camp came into view, and he was about to dive into the forest to hide himself from the group. But his eyes caught something- a body. A body in the middle of all the men. The men were cheering and whipping it. Rhysand’s eyes sharpened and he felt sick. It was- you. A sense of rage and utter wrath of a thousand burning suns filled him.

Azriel flinched when the whole area went completely dark- it wasn’t nighttime- it was Rhysand’s wrath. He felt a shiver work it’s way up his spine. He caught sight of your naked body being beaten.

A loud book of thunder sounded, causing all the men to pause their fun. They didn’t have time to react when something large hit the ground. Majority of them fell to the floor, scampering. Dust was everywhere.

A tall looming figure with bat wings spread in front of you, covering you. Rhysand. Everything hurt. So fucking bad. You were covered in blood and vomit- whatever they had shoved down your throat was working fast. You felt sick. Vunerable. Everything was so hazy. You didn’t have time to process the screams around you or why. You felt your body collapse. Something was wrong. No- it’d be fine. You’d get flown to Madja and healed and you’d soon wake up. You tried to keep your body up but failed, collapsing to the mud.

Rhysand felt dread at hearing the thump on the ground. There were bodies everywhere. His senses were heightened. The only heartbeat was Azriel’s and yours. But yours was the only one that mattered right now. And it was so slow-

He shoved Azriel away from your collapsed form quickly, cradling your head. Your scent- it was fading. Your skin was so pale. He realized with a sick feeling you were dying. His eyes met your weakly opened one’s. Your eyes started to close.

“Nonononono- cmon we need to get her to Madja. What are you doing?! Let’s go!” He yelled, quickly hailing your body in his arms. Azriel flinched.

“Rhys- it’s too late. It’s an hour flight, and where we are it’s impossible to winnow! And the poison they forced on her has spread mostly.” Azriel whispered. Rhysand ignored his words, shaking his head. His wings flared, preparing for flight.

“Where’s Cassian- get him- we can make it-“

“Rhysand- we fucking can’t. It’s not possible.” Azriel’s words and reality finally seemed to hit Rhysand. Rhysand collapsed in the mud, holding you close to his chest. He was rocking you back and forth, tears falling from his eyes.

He gently caressed your face. Your eyes opened. He whimpered softly at your weak expression. “No.nononononono! It wasn’t suppose to happen like this. There was so much I had planned for you- for us.” Rhysand said. His words were soothing. You felt yourself relax. You felt Rhysand’s talons scrape your mind, and gently broke your barricade. The pain in your body disappeared. You were able to process his words better. Death, you were dying. Us. You had never realized there was an us. You couldn’t help but press your face against your hand. You think you could die at peace like this. You weren’t sure if the tears on your face were his or yours? Maybe both. You were so tired- you felt so relaxed with his warm body and wings covering you. We’re the woods always this quiet? It was getting harder to keep your eyes open. Rhysand’s hold tightened.

Rhysand came to the realization if he was panicked you would feel it- he needed to calm himself for you. It was the least he could do. He took shaky breaths pressing his forehead agaisnt yours. “I’m so sorry..” he muttered agaisnt your skin.

“..you have nothing to be sorry for…” you grunted out. “..I love you Rhysand.”

“Don’t call me that.” He groaned out. Nudging his head against your body gently. Your choked laugh filled his ears.

“I love you so much Rhys.” You said again. He made a noise of pain and kissed your wet eyelids.

“I have loved you with every fiber of my being since the day I met you, and I will continue loving you until the day I die..” He whispered loudly. His lips were soft as they gently pressed to the tip of your nose. He watched as your shaky hand reached forward to wipe his watery eyes. Your fingertips were soft. He savored the moment, closing his eyes. Until he felt your hand fall. His eyes widened open, panic settling in. Your eyes were fighting to stay open. Your chin lifted foward as if to kiss him. He bent forward. His forehead again rested against yours. You were both staring at eachother. Something snapped- a gold tether between you too. You felt your heart throb one last time. And everything went dark.

Rhysand screamed. It was guttal and terrifying to Azriel who stood off to the side giving you two privacy. He felt his heart break. You were dead.

——————

Rhysand refused to let you go. Your corpse remained in his bed- it had been two days after your death. Somehow his magic had kept your body intact and clean. He refused to eat, drink, or even leave your side. He spent his hours curled up agaisnt you, crying and begging for you to come back. You were his mate. He had loved you as much more then a friend for a millennia of years by now, and he had a sneaking hint you were mates. But the mother was so cruel- killing you just as soon as the bond snapped.

His claws dug into your skin gently as he rocked your corpse back and forth. A knock sounded at the door, eliciting a growl from him. Azriel stepped in.

“Rhys. You need to eat. Y/n wouldn’t want you-“

“Don’t say her fucking name!” Rhysand growled, eyes going dark. Azriel shivered in fear at the sudden darkness. Nobody could get to Rhys. It was scary. His brother was slowly killing himself. And they couldn’t do anything about it.

Azriel nodded and left the room, deciding to leave it be. Rhysand curled his wings back around you. He climbed on top of you, gently straddling. A few tears dropped down his face, landing on yours. His forehead met yours.

“Bring her back home- please..” He cried out.

Rhysand flinched. He was hearing things now. Was he in so much pain he was delusional now? He whimpered. He thought he could hear you calling his name. Maybe his time has finally come and he’ll be with you again.

“Rhys..!”

Rhysand jumped, hearing your sickly coughs. You. You. You. You were breathing. He was surely in the afterlife now. His head dropped to your chest, ignoring your cries of his name in favor of hearing your heartbeat. It was there- you were alive.

Rhysand choked on a sob. He didn’t know what to say.

“Rhysand!” You yelled louder. He flinched.

“Get off of me- your suffocating me you big Illyrian baby.” You groaned. He wuickly jumped off of you. Onyl to wrap you in his arms and cradle you to his lap like a child.

“Rhys?” You questioned. His head was pressed to your chest again. Where your heart was. You felt something wet drip down.

“You were dead. Gone- dead. I lost you!” He choked out. “I thought..” he couldn’t finish his sentence as he made a whimpering noise. He was having a full break down.

“Rhys. I’m right here, I’m alive, calm down.” You muttered. Your body was sore but you couldn’t feel much right now. All you could focus on was the weird attached feeling towards the male holding you. How were you alive? You had no idea. But you weren’t mad. That’s for sure.

Rhysand gently pushed you down against his sheets. You were in his bed, in his shirt and boxers. You smelled of him. There wasn’t much to say. He was acting on instinct. His hand roamed your body, as if ensuring you were real. His wings cradled you, blocking out the world. He grabbed your face, turning it, inspecting you.

“Rhysand!” You snapped. He flinched in response. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m fine.” You repeated trying to calm his mother hen. You could feel his emotions now.

“No. You’re not going anywhere. That’s for sure.” He whispered, eyes holding a dark look. You nodded in response. You flushed slightly, remembering. He was your mate. He finally smiled down at you. It was slightly crazed, but it was better than crying. His eyes were puffy.

“I’m here to stay.” You whispered as his lips slowly met yours. Your first kiss with him.

—————-

Rhysand was very clingy. The last two weeks have been spent with him up your ass. The inner circle was delighted to see you alive. And Cassian begged forgiveness. He thought it was his fault. You assured him, it wasn’t his fault. Which led to Rhysand sitting you down and giving you a very long lecture. You weren’t allowed on missions until next starfall. Of course, it annoyed you. But you also decided to relent and obey Rhysand this time. Armen said you were a miracle and not to question your resurrection.

You and Rhysand had been taking it slow as far as the bond. It strictly stayed to small pecks on the lips. He wanted to ravish you- but he wanted you to be comfortable with him. You were. How couldn’t you be? Azriel told you how he stayed beside your body. It made you tear up. And now, all that was left of the ‘accident’ was a protective Rhys. He refused to leave your side for more than an hour. Sleeping arrangements were made where you could sleep in his room or yours, but best belive he had to be in the same room. If you didn’t want him touching you that night he was more then happy to sit in a chair and do paperwork (and watch you as you sleep but you didn’t know that.) But you always ended up wanting him by you. It brung comfort.

You were ready for more. Specifically tonight. You convinced Rhysand that you would be okay while he joined his brothers at Rita’s. But you knew he’d be back within two hours. And would waste no time attaching to you. So you worked fast. You made yourself look pretty in the mirror feeling slightly self conscious. You felt a shift in the air realizing Rhysand was near. You rushed to the kitchen looking at the meal you prepared. You were shaking. This was embarrassing. What if he didn’t want you?

“Love?” Rhysand’s sweet voice filled the air as he sensed your distress and rushed into the dining room. He paused upon seeing you. You were gorgeous. No female on this planet could hold a candle to your beauty. He swallowed the saliva building in his mouth. You were standing in one of those sundresses. He gulped. You were clammy. His eyes slid to the plate of food where he usually sat for dinner. His eyes slid back to yours.

He felt himself harden. “Y/n?” He whispered.

“I’m accepting the bond.” You whispered.

“Say it again.” He demanded.

“I’m accepting the bond Rhys.” You said louder, feeling embarrassed until he plopped down on the chair. He wasted no time in devouring his food. It was gone in under two minutes. His eyes found yours again.

“I suggest you sit and eat your plate. Because once I get you in my room you’re not coming out for a very long while.” His pupils were dilated and his wings were flared. He was holding himself back.

You certainly didn’t waste any time eating your plate.

#acotar #acosf #imagine #x reader #azriel #acotar 5 #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel acotar #Rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand smut #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand angst #rhysand and feyre

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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months

Text

Geto's sister melting like butter in Toji's hands

Pairing: Geto's sister x Toji; (Geto's sister x Geto brother dynamic; Geto's sister x Satoru lil flirt)

Word Count: 2,6k

Synopsis: When your brother and Satoru arrive at Jujutsu High with the star plasma vessel, things start to get heated. But instead of running away like you're told to, you follow your brother. Only to be alone with a certain someone...

Warnings: we're talking about Toji so the usual, (y/n) is ducking weak in this one, not 100% proofread bc I'm lazy

„Where is your smaller version?“, Yaga barks at Suguru.

“My smaller version? You mean (y/n)?”

“Hehe, sounds like she’s your child”, Satoru comments while giggling.

“I guess she’s training right now. And also, she’s older than me. Why?”

Suguru was never keen about you joining Jujutsu High in the first place. But the second you realized that you are able to see courses just like him, there was no going back. It’s only natural that he’s worried about you, right? Especially when he and Satoru were sent here to guard the star plasma vessel…What do you have to do with this? Isn’t his teacher aware of the fact how dangerous this mission is for a first year student?

“Get her here right now.”

Urgh, this doesn’t mean anything good. Does he have any chance to escape this though? With a sign he gets moving. Nope, a glimpse into Yaga’s serious eyes is enough to get that he doesn’t stand a chance against his will.

Why you, though? Yes, you are quite skilled for being in your first year, but so are Haibara and Nanami. So why does it have to be you? What does this man have in mind for you?

“Got ya!”, you cry out while Yu’s body lands on the floor harshly.

“How did you beat me again?”, he presses out, rubbing his aching head.

“Because you weren’t paying enough attention”, Kento remarks dryly with that signature bored expression craved into his face.

“I think (y/n) is just a way too great opponent for me.”

“Oh, don’t make be blush.”

“(y/n).”

That voice that makes you instantly roll your eyes without even turning around. What the hell is your brother doing here again?

“What do you want?”, you groan.

“Yaga-sensei sent me after you. I guess you are assigned for a mission”, Suguru replies, completely unimpressed by your snarky attitude.

A mission? Your head darts towards him immediately. A mission with Suguru? He is on his second year, more than skilled enough to fulfill even difficult missions on his own. So why would Yaga-sensei ask about you and not Yu or Kento?

You don’t care that much to be honest. The thought of going on an important mission alone makes your body tremble in excitement. Even if it means your brother has to accompany you.

“Will Satoru be there too?”, you purr.

It’s way too fun to mess with your brother. When it comes to men, he always widens his eyes in disgust before crossing his arms and glaring down at you.

“Don’t get stupid ideas. I hate that you are flirting with my best friend”, he remarks.

“It’s not my fault that he looks so damn fine.”

“Stop the crap”, he spits at you while you smile widely.

Oh, how much you love to mess with your big brother. Since he is your only sibling, you take your responsibility of teasing the heck out of him very seriously. Especially now that you are living the same life.

“There she is”, Suguru mutters, your figure appearing behind is tall frame with a triumphal smile.

“Hi Satoru”, you hush towards the white haired boy who smirks at you.

“Hi (y/n), looking good as always”, he flirts back, sliding down his sunglasses to catch a better glimpse at you.

“Can you two please stop before I’m losing it”, Suguru grumbles.

“I agree. (y/n), you will assist these idiots by escorting the star plasma vessel to Tengen-sama.”

You can’t believe your ears, cheeky mouth not daring to speak of. Assisting both Satoru and Suguru at once? By escorting the star plasma vessel of none other than Tengen-sama?

This has to be a dream, a stupid joke they play on you. Yes, you are a quite skilled jujutsu sorcerer, maybe better than the other first years at this point…

But are you this good? So good that you are able to keep up with Satoru and your brother?

“This is something very big you’re asking for”, you reply automatically, all eyes darted towards you.

Damn, this doesn’t sound like your usual confident self at all, even Suguru doesn’t recognize you. Without hesitation he steps to your side, placing his hand on your shoulder gently while beaming you with his smile.

“Satoru and me are here, too. You are the backup plan if something goes wrong.”

“And nothing will go wrong. Don’t worry (y/n)”, Satoru adds.

Yes, nothing will go wrong, right?

- the arrival of Suguru and Satoru at Jujutsu High –

“You sure took your time getting here”, you comment dryly, on the brink of falling asleep at the entrance of Jujutsu High.

“Oh my, you look like death warmed over”, you holler towards Satoru.

Damn, you thought they went on paid vacation without you. Why the hell does he look this bad? The dark circles under your brother’s eyes tell you how stressful these last day have been.

“You’re safe now. No need to waste your energy anymore, Satoru”, you speak out.

And with that, the glow in his eyes is gone.

Just seconds before he gets stabbed by a stranger.

Your eyes widen when reality hits you. A dagger pierced through Satoru’s chest.

The Satoru Gojo.

Your brother’s best friend.

Your gaze darts towards the tall man behind him. Who the hell is this guy? And how was he even able to get through the barrier in the first place? You hold your breath, mind racing in thoughts. This has to be a bad joke.

“Satoru!”, your brother cries out, on the way to sprint forward before he is stopped by his best friends words.

Save the star plasma vessel.

Escort her to Tengen-sama.

“I’m coming with you”, you breathe out, following your brother’s steps right on track.

“No way in hell. You go back where you came from, (y/n)”, he hisses.

What? He can’t be serious, right?

“Yaga-sensei put me here to help you escort the star plasma vessel. What makes you so entitled that you think you can just send me off like that?”

Your brother turns around, eyes glistening with so much rage that you have to swallow. Fuck, you’ve never seen him like this, storming towards you without slowing down.

“This isn’t a joke, (y/n). If that man was able to break through the barrier and hurt Satoru, he sure as hell is able to kill you right on the spot. Get out of here right now, I couldn’t stand losing you”, he barks into your face along with grabbing your shoulders roughly.

“Fine”, you mumble.

With one last spiteful glance at you he’s gone, taking the girl and the woman with him.

That man.

Your eyes dart towards him and the way his muscles flex underneath his tight black shirt, showing every single vein of his well-trained body. How old is he? Must be in his 20s, hard to say when he’s moving so fast that you aren’t even able to follow his movements properly. It’s safe to say that he’s looking like a snack, though. So different from all the guys you’ve met at Jujutsu High.

“Get out of here, (y/n)!”, Satoru yells at you, ripping you out of your daydreaming so violently that you flinch.

Urgh, how unfair. First you get assigned with this job and now you are supposed to stay out of line?

No, certainly not.

With a swift motion you start to run away. Not in direction of Jujutsu High, but following after your brother’s scent. After all, Satoru will get this man down easily, will he?

What a shame about his pretty face, though.

You stop in a long and poor lit hallway, tingling senses telling you that something or rather someone is behind you.

Could it be Satoru? No, you can not only detect his scent, but recognize him by his long and slouchy steps. Whoever this is doesn’t belong to Jujutsu High. But why on earth would a stranger come here?

“You’re in the way, y’know.”

That voice. Your eyes widen instantly when he steps out of the shadows, well-trained figure lit up ever so slightly.

It’s him, the man from before. The gorgeous man who fought Satoru only a few minutes ago.

“You came here to see me?”

To your very own surprise, your sturdy voice doesn’t give any hint of the panic flooding your veins. Why the hell is he here? Does this mean that…

Satoru lost?

“You’re pretty easy on the eye, gotta give you that”, the unknown man in front of you remarks with a sly grin.

You seem to be pretty young, uniform telling him that you’re a jujutsu sorcerer yourself. But that look in your eyes, the color of your hair…

“Have I seen ya before?”, he questions.

“Unfortunately not”, you purr.

You begin to circle each other, like a predator he lingers over you.

Something about the way he carries himself tells you that he isn’t someone to mess with, the darkness in his eyes almost swallowing you whole. Yes, this man is bad news even though you can’t detect any cursed energy on him.

“Oh, you look like that guy before…What was his name again?”

“Yeah, he’s my brother”, you clarify briefly.

“Ah, gotcha. Where did he go? I need to kill that brat he has with him.”

“Why chasing after him when you can stay with me instead?”

You know it’s reckless, that the man in front of you could possibly kill you without flinching. But every precious second you are able to negotiate for Suguru is important right now.

He comes closer, his tall frame roaming over you while you shamelessly stare at his gorgeous, yet bloody chest. Damn, this man really is attractive. Why do your knees suddenly feel so weak?

“I’m no one to mess with”, he remarks.

Your back hits the cold wall behind you, his muscular arms trapping you in place. Fuck, this is so hot.

No, this is absolutely dangerous.

“I know”, you breathe out.

His eyes linger over you, the little scar on over his lips twitches in amusement. One look into your glossy orbs is enough for Toji to be aware of the fact how unexperienced you are. Even though you try to straighten your shoulders and keep eye contact with him, he can see the way your limbs are trembling and how your knees are about to give in. You look young, maybe a few years younger than himself. And your body…he can tell you are trained underneath that uniform. After all you are a jujutsu sorcerer, right?

A little playing doesn’t hurt as long as he’s able to kill that little brat.

“Aren’t ya a little young to get killed? Wouldn’t take me much to do so. Killed that Gojo guy too.”

His words hit you with full force.

He.

He killed Satoru.

“That’s impossible”, you whisper.

No one was ever capable of killing Satoru. No, this can’t be true, he has to mess with you. Satoru is the strongest along with Suguru, the gifted child.

He…he can’t be dead.

But why isn’t he here then? How is it even possible for this force of a man to stand in front of your very own eyes if he’s lying? Satoru would have chased him down, fulfilled his mission no matter what…No, this can’t be…

“Can show ya. I mean it’s quite nasty, but if you want-“

“No”, you interrupt him immediately.

Fuck, what are you supposed to do? Stand here and wait until he gets bored? Fight him?

You clench your hands into fist. One swift motion. One swift motion of your fist should be enough to send him flying.

“Cute”, he comments, catching your hand mid-air with ease.

Fuck. Ice cold sweat runs down your neck. This man is a menace. There’s no way in hell you are able to defeat him.

Suddenly he pulls you closer to him, the heat radiating from his body seems to burn right through your soul.

“Who the hell are you?”, you mutter.

“Toji Fushiguro”, he remarks.

Toji Fushiguro. You never heard his name before and the fact that you can’t detect any cursed energy on him tells you that he isn’t a jujutsu sorcerer.

“Y’know, didn’t think I’d meet a hot girl down here”, Toji comments, amusement sparkling in his eyes when catching a glimpse of the blush creeping up your beautiful face.

Oh god, you feel like fainting with his tall frame lingering over you so unpromising. Despite being around gorgeous men all the time, no one ever caught your eye enough to be this close to him.

But this man…You shouldn’t like the way his touch brushes over your skin, making every fiber of your being shiver in excitement. No, you should tear yourself away from his grip, fight him, kill him. You are a jujutsu sorcerer, Toji Fushiguro killed Satoru and is on his way to kill the star plasma vessel and who knows even your brother. This is so wrong, him touching and teasing you shouldn’t cloud your senses.

“Be as charming as you want, I can’t forgive you for killing Satoru.”

He tilts his head to the side, a playful grin playing around is lips as one of his hands wraps around your neck, pressing gently.

“What a bummer, thought we’d have a good time here”, he replies.

Oh god, what happened to your self-control, what happened to your self-consciousness? You can’t act like a horny teenager only because a handsome man is touching you.

What’s going on in your beautiful mind? Seems like you’re lost at words. It’s nothing new to Toji that women fall head over heels for him, especially the ones who are into guys like him. But you look so innocent, that spark of determination in your eyes gone with the wind. Yes, you are like butter in his hands. The things he could do to you right now, showing you just how much of a man he is.

“You’ve probably never been with a man, huh?”

You stare up at him in disbelief. How did he know? Your heart hammers violently against your ribcage, mind not able to produce a single logical thought. He is so near that you’d be able to touch his broad chest ever so slightly. And the way his fingers press against your neck…

You’re doomed.

“Thought so. How’s it that a hot girl like you didn’t get it yet? Could show ya how it’s done with my very own hands...”

“I know what you’re doing. But I can’t let you get through this door, you can’t reach my brother”, you whine more to yourself than him.

Huh, that’s why he was here. Toji signs to himself, already aroused by the way you blush and whimper under his touch. How much he’d love to just stay here and show you how it’s done. To see your eyes roll into your brain in pleasure, how you squirm under his merciless touch.

But he’s got a job to do.

“What’s your name?”, he purrs against your outer ear, making shivers run down your spine like waterfalls.

“(y/n) Geto…”

“(y/n)”

Your own name sounds so strange coming out of his dangerous mouth.

“I promise I won’t kill your brother, but I gotta go now. Hope to see ya again. Sleep well.”

Before you can react any further, his flat hand rams itself into your throat that you get consumed by darkness immediately, numb body falling against Toji’s firm figure.

Carefully, he lifts you up and carries your body with him, casually placing you over his broad shoulder with your head hanging down his back.

“Now let’s get to work”, he mumbles, smacking your ass slightly.

581 notes · View notes

borathae · 3 months

Text

↳ Full Art

“Taehyung loves when he can be your cute little puppy. He loves it so, so much.”

Pairing: Taehyung x n.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut

Warnings: D/s dynamic, sub puppy player!Taehyung, Dom!Reader, pet play with gear, puppy headspace, ankle cuffs, anal play, latex gloves, praise, good boy kink, prostate orgasms

Wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: *barks* (pun intended) he is so NGNFNGN also omgg how are you guys liking the new art of the month layout? i am loving it tbh, no joke it's exactly what i wanted it to be hehe have fun besties ❤

The gloves sit snug around his hands, falsifying his own senses. He can’t move his fingers, the feeling in them is gone. They are useless, little paws right now. Taehyung feels dizzy because of it, drugged from the mindset he finds himself in.

The collar around his neck is tight, but not too tight to be uncomfortable. You keep tugging at it, reminding him that he is owned.

“Come on, follow me”, you order him with yet another gentle tug at the leash and wave you fingers in front of his eyes to keep his attention on you. Not that you need tricks to keep his attention. He is yours. Utterly and completely yours.

Taehyung barks quietly, following you most obediently. The paw gloves makes a dull sound on the wooden floor, a sticky sound follows it as he lifts them off and the leather stays glued to the wood for just a small second. Leather cuffs are wrapped around his ankles. He is dragging chains behind him as he crawls after you. They create a familiar melody to Taehyung’s ears. He finds comfort in the sound because it meant that he could be in his favourite headspace.

Puppy headspace.

He isn’t human right now. He is a good, obedient puppy following his owner’s orders. The gear for it, you got him on your anniversary and it enhances the play so goddamn well. Taehyung has never felt more like a puppy than he does right now with his hands hidden in leather paws, his neck adorned with a leather collar, his ankles kept in chains and his butt beautifully accessorized with a tail.

He feels it move. It drives him just a little mad. It is a really intense sensation, taking some of his attention and keeping just a glimmer of humanity in his mind.

“That’s a good puppy. Bed”, you order and pat the mattress.

Taehyung crawls onto the bed and does an excited little spin.

“No, stay”, you tell him in a fond giggle.

Taehyung stops, looking up at you with big eyes and his tongue sticking out.

“That’s better. Such a good boy”, you coo at him, coddling his cheeks in soft pets. You are wearing red latex gloves tonight. It gives your touch just a small sense of unfamiliarity to it. The You was missing from it. The warmth, the sense of your skin, the smell of it. Taehyung doesn’t mind that it does because what was missing, you make up for in tenderness. Your pets are placed with such love and care.

Taehyung barks happily, wiggling his butt. The tail shifts inside again. His legs wobble for a moment.

“Yes good boy, such a good boy”, you babytalk as you coddle his face, “you're such a cutie good boy. Yes, such a good boy.”

Taehyung huffs out air excitedly and leans in to lick your cheek. His heart is racing like crazy. You know exactly what to say to make him burst in happiness.

You squeak a giggle, fleeing him with a tilt of your head. Taehyung however chases you, licking your chin and cheek for more kisses. He is so happy! He needs to show you how happy he feels! And how much he loves you!

“God puppy, you’re getting me all wet”, you laugh, ruffling his hair, “I know big kissies. Such big kissies.”

Taehyung whimpers happily, wagging his tail. A second of humanity courses through him, resulting in a very human moan to slip past his lips. The wagging shifted the plug inside, crazing it right over his prostate. Electric pleasure instantly fills his veins.

He sits back, looking up at you with glassy eyes.

“What’s the matter?” you ask because you know that look and what it means. The headspace is shaken. Something happened which reminded him that he was human after all.

“Tail”, he gets out and shifts his hips.

“Tail?”

“It keeps shifting.”

“Oh…” you let out, running your eyes run down his body.

He is naked except for his paws and the collar. His dark nipples are swollen and so perfectly perky. His soft tummy heaves up and down as he breathes heavily. His flushed cock stands against it, throbbing slowly. He is hard. You didn’t even notice that he is. You were too preoccupied with loving him and getting his cute kisses.

“I see”, you say, “turn.”

Taehyung follows instantly, presenting his butt to you on all fours. Like this, you can see the pink paw print stitched onto the black gloves. He would look so cute if it weren’t for the black silicon tail sticking out between his buttocks. You ogle it, feeling your tummy flutter. To think that it is shifting enough to mess up his headspace.

“Stay”, you order him to which he tenses his muscles obediently.

You step closer to him, connecting your gloved hand with his back in a gentle caress. Goosebumps follow your fingers, shivers chase them right after.

“You’re such a pretty puppy”, you praise and flick your finger against his tail. It wobbles for a few moments. Taehyung moans softly.

“This tail you mean?” you tease, flicking it again.

Taehyung answers you with a shaky intake of breath and his buttocks clenching in a flinch.

“I guess you do”, you coo and swirl your pointer finger around the very tip of his tail. It creates those very subtle circular motions, forcing Taehyung’s body to shiver in reaction, “does this feel nice?”

“Wroof.”

“Of course it does. Do you want more?”

Taehyung arches his back, begging you silently.

You trace his tail. It is made out of black silicone and has a slight curve to it. A slightly thicker base prevents it from disappearing inside him and in his hole, a girthy buttplug is sitting. No wonder he is letting out those sweet little moans, movements must shift it so nicely against his sensitive spots.

You wrap your fingers around the girthy base and wiggle it from side to side. Your sweet boyfriend reacts in a moan and his back moving in a wavelike arch. You repeat the movement, drawing yet another little moan out of Taehyung.

“God puppy, this is so hot”, you say. You twist the black leather leash around your gloved hand a few times, drawing closer this way. There isn’t tension on it yet, tangling between your hand and Taehyung’s neck and drawing pretty paintings of shadow on his back. You follow the stroke of shadow with your fingers for the sole purpose of ending it with a wiggle of his tail plug.

Taehyung always reacts with such pretty moans when you draw it out. Giving him everything with no built-up is fun, but giving it to him after making him expect it is even better. So you like to feel him up, make his skin sensitive for you and his poor little body so, so needy for more. It’s more satisfying this way.

You take the tail between your fingers again and move it. In and out.

“Ah”, Taehyung lets out. His heavy balls throb between his legs. He liked it.

“More?”

He arches his back.

“Speak.”

“Wroof”, he sort of whimpers the bark. It’s the hottest thing.

“Good boy. You’re such a good boy”, you praise and reward him with a slow toy fuck.

Taehyung moans each time you push it back inside again. His hole takes it embarrassingly easy. Well, deliciously easy would be a better way to describe what is happening right now. His rim is puffy and swollen, moving around the black silicon desperately. It bulges each time you pull out and opens up each time you push back inside.

“You’ve got the prettiest puppy hole”, you rasp, twisting the toy when it is halfway out. His hole takes it hungrily, shifting around the bulge. So wet and stretched. So fucking puffy.

Taehyung whimpers, dropping his head.

“Head up”, you order, tugging at the leash roughly.

His head shoots up, a needy mewl slips past his lips. For just a second, air was sparse, reminding him that he has no free will right now. That you decide what happens to him.

“That’s better. You shouldn’t slack, puppy”, you praise and reward him by pushing the toy back into him. You loosen the tension on his leash, letting it tangle again. He releases a shaky breath, clenching around the toy in flutters of his puffy hole.

Fuck, his hole is so puffy. You crave the view of it unplugged and empty. Just for a few seconds to really satisfy the needs.

You pull the toy out completely, moaning deliciously as his gaped hole looks back at you. You can see inside. He is so, so pretty, leaking lube now that he has nothing holding it inside.

“Fuck, look at you. Who’s a good puppy, Taetae?”

Taehyung whimpers, arching his back just so his hole stays open for you longer. He is the good puppy. He is.

“That’s right, you’re a good puppy. Such a good puppy”, you coo and push the toy back inside.

“Ah”, he lets out, fighting it for a second because he hadn’t expected the stretch.

“Relax.”

The toy doesn’t want to slip back inside. You stop trying in order not to hurt him, reaching for the bottle of lube.

“Good boy, you’re such a good boy”, you talk sweetly, keeping him in a happy headspace. You know how quickly Taehyung can beat himself up about sex related struggles. Premature ejaculation, a sudden loss of a boner, dry holes. These things are natural and happen, but Taehyung likes to beat himself up about them. You always make sure that the self-disappointment doesn’t happen.

“You’re such a good boy. I’m just quickly gonna put more puppy slick on there. Yeah?”

Taehyung wiggles his hips, letting out a small mewl. Lube. You are putting more lube, but the fact that you are calling it puppy slick is messing with his head. He can’t wait to take the toy again. Oh, he wants it so bad.

“There we go, all slicked up for my puppy”, you say, placing the bottle aside. You twist the leash tighter without creating tension and guide the smooth head of the buttplug to his puffy hole.

You touch it.

Taehyung arches into you.

You trace it in circles.

Taehyung sticks his ass out.

You apply pressure.

Taehyung pushes back and swallows it. Of course he would. He is your good puppy after all.

He whimpers, closing his eyes in total bliss. He is finally whole again. Tingles go through his body, he feels so warm between his legs. The stretch is so nice and so electric. He doesn’t want it to stop.

“That’s better. You’re such a good puppy”, you encourage him and begin moving it inside him again. In and out, in and out. He should know how good it feels to be your puppy.

Taehyung tries so hard to continue making puppy sounds, but it’s so hard. You make him feel so good. The plug is girthy enough that the stretch is there, but it is still small enough that it doesn't hurt. He is just full. That’s how he feels. Full. It is such a nice state to be in.

Full. Empty. Full. Empty. Full. Empty. Full.

You keep pulling out and pushing back in. Taehyung feels aching longing whenever it is gone and burning ecstasy whenever it is back.

“Please”, he begs because it’s impossible to stay non-verbal.

“Speak”, you allow him.

“Please stay inside.”

“Like this?” you push it all the way into him and move it by the tail, “is this doing something for you?”

“Woof”, Taehyung moans, arching his back. He tilts his head back, giving you a glimpse of his agape mouth. His eyes are closed in bliss, his cheeks are flushed.

“Of course it does. My good boy, you’re so pretty like this.”

“Woof, ah, woo-woof.”

His legs are shaking, his arms are as well. His puffy hole keeps pulsating around the shaft, sucking the toy in hungrily.

“Woo-ah-oof.”

You know for a fact that the only reason Taehyung is struggling with his noises is because you are grinding the toy against his prostate. You continue, basking in his blissed-out state. He is perfect like this.

“Woo, woo-oof.”

He doesn’t even notice that he stopped barking and is instead saying the word “woof” in various needy versions. How wonderful. He is so wonderful.

It makes you want to ruin him even more. You angle the tail upwards and begin drawing circles with it.

Taehyung gasps and tenses up. He whimpers, chasing you with sudden needy wiggles of his hips. Faster, faster, faster. He is getting faster the longer this goes on, whimpering sweetly each time the toy so very clearly grinds against his prostate. He is fucking himself on it, squeaking for air.

“Good boy. Such a good boy”, you know what is happening and so you help him with getting there by saying his favourite words, “good boy, you’re such a good puppy.”

Taehyung moans and drops to his elbows, screaming into the mattress as his orgasm hits him. You moan right with him, wiggling the toy in him quickly to really draw it out for him. He is shaking, twitching, convulsing all while his puffy hole throbs around the toy and the sheets muffle his ecstatic wails.

“You’re seriously such a good fucking boy. Give me everything, puppy. That’s my good puppy”, you talk him through it until he very obviously begins twitching in overstimulation.

You slide your fingers from his tail. You keep it inside his ass, watching it move all on its own as his hole throbs in the aftershock of his orgasm. How delicious to look at.

“Good puppy”, you praise, petting his butt soothingly, “now. Turn”, you order and tug at the leash.

Taehyung fights himself up onto his paws and turns with wobbly knees. He looks properly ruined. Face flushed, hair messy, eyes half lidded and gaze droopy. You know that it was hard for him to follow your command, but this isn’t over yet. What you just gave him was merely to get rid of some of the tension. He isn’t done yet.

“Good boy”, you pet his head.

Taehyung leans into your touch with an exhausted whimper and his eyes falling closed. You pet him, helping him calm down after his needed high.

“So”, you begin, scratching him behind his ear, “now that we got this out of the way, we’ll finally start with the training.”

He lifts his glassy eyes, staring up at you in a mixture of disbelief, devotion and exhaustion. The devotion is strongest, shining brightly in his dark brown puppy eyes.

“Mhm? Can my puppy finally think clearly again?”

Taehyung exhales shakily, sagging his shoulders as his devotion grows. He finally lets out an animalistic bark again, sticking out his tongue slowly because he desires to be your obeying puppy so bad, even with his body still recovering from his orgasm. “Of course you can. Now let’s get started. Paw.”

234 notes · View notes

squirmhoney · 1 year

Note

Can i require a dark aemond smut fic where reader is the second daughter of rhaenyra (and harwin) and she went to storm end, here he met aemond that is really obsessed with her. He takes her to king's landing just to share the bed with her and the next morning marry her (both forced). That is a bit dark, but i would like u to write it if u like my idea ❤️

My Dear

A/N: There is so much Valyrian in this and the translations are so off but just imagine what they are saying from my translations. Sorry for it. This is a lot and very angsty at times but I hope you enjoy. Warnings: Non Con. Dub Con. Over stimulation. Smut. Incest. 18+ Angst. Manipulation. Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader Word count: 3.2k

Master list

Aemond's stare was intense, making your skin crawl as you dared not to look back at him.

"Go home, girl," Lord Baratheon barked, shooing you away with his hand.

"I will take your answer to my mother," you told him, your gaze shifted finally landing on your uncle. "To the Queen."

His face twitched, lips snarling upwards at you.

You turned your body around, stalking out of the doors as the guards followed you.

The guards left you once you got to your dragon, leaving you with the noise of the howling wind and rain to fill your ears. Your hand reached out to touch the side of Vermithor's face, your head gently resting against him.

"Nyke zūgagon skoros bisa bantis might ōregon," you whispered, eyes closing as you rested in to your dragon. I fear what this night might hold.

Vermithor could sense your tense body, a dragon's howl roaring from his throat.

"My tala." Niece.

You twisted around, looking through the rain but not finding anyone there. You swore you heard it, the sound of his voice sending a shudder down your spine.

"Sagon sȳz naejot issa, Vermithor," you told him, patting his skin before climbing on his saddle. Be good to me, Vermithor.

It was a short ride back to Driftmark but the rain was soaking your clothes and clouding your vision. At this point you didn't know if you were trembling from the chill or the fear of your Uncle possibly being near.

Vermithor was playing up, suddenly backing up as he spit fire into the wind.

"Naejot, Vermithor. Naejot," you commanded him, holding onto his reins with a tight grip. The rope burned marks into your skin but you continued to hold on, not wanting to fall off your dragon. "Rȳbagon naejot issa." Forward, Vermithor. Forward. Listen to me.

But that's when you saw it, a dark shadow larger than your own dragon in front of you. You twisted the reins, yanking Vermithor downwards as he flew.

You dodged it, Vhagar flying over you in one big swoop. You didn't have time to think, just pulling Vermithor back in the same direction.

Even through the wind, you could hear his cackling as he taunted you.

Luckily for you, Vermithor was almost as big as Vhagar and speed wasn't a problem for him. He was younger as well, meaning if it came to it, in battle he might be able to defeat Vhagar.

However, you really didn't want it to come to that. As much as you feared your Uncle now, you were close once and you may have wanted to loathe him but you loved him still.

Eventually you were through the dark clouds, a clearing of blue surrounding you. But your gaze still turned back, glancing towards the clouds in hopes that Aemond was long gone.

But then you felt it, a presence below you as something came quick through the wind. You shifted to the side, Vermithor following your tug as he dodged out of the way. He blew a long line of fire at Vhagar, making the dragon roar in retaliation.

This isn't what you wanted.

"Daor, Vermithor," you yelled, beckoning your dragon away. No, Vermithor.

Your eyes scanned around you, landing on a small island in near distance. You tugged your dragon to the island, Vermithor sensing your urgency as he practically crash landed into the ground. You were quick to dismount, hand sliding up and down Vermithor's scales as you tried to sooth him.

Vhagar soon followed, landing too close for comfort. Aemond jumped off, stalking over to you in an instant.

"Ao could emagon ossēntan issa," you screamed at him, eyes brimming with tears as you bit back a sob. You were never an emotional person but Aemond brought a side out of you that you didn't know. You felt overwhelmed with emotion in his presence. You could have killed me.

He stepped closer, a bit too close for your liking as you backed away. Vermithor shielded you as you cowered behind his neck. He roasted at Aemond, fire sitting in the back of his throat as he waited for your command.

"Ruaragon inkot aōha zaldrīzes, skorkydoso nēdenka," Aemond hissed, holding his position. Hiding behind your dragon, how brave.

"Mēre udir. Bona iksos ry nyke jorrāelagon," you told him, grinding your teeth down to try and hide your broken voice. But it was not use, Aemond heard the crack in your tone. One word. That's all I need.

"I only wish to talk to you," Aemond admitted, sounding sincere as his voice softened. "Issa jorrāelagon." My dear.

"Don't call me that." Your voice was completely shattered as were you, tears running down your face. You let out a shaky breath, trying to gain control of your emotions. "That is not fair."

"It is true." He steps forward only to be met with Vermithor's snarling teeth. "Who knows if we ever may have a chance like this again."

"You said what you needed to say." You shook your head, biting your lip. "You said a lot that day in the Red Keep."

"Nyke regret ziry." He placed his hand out towards you, in hopes that you would take it. I regret it.

"Nyke jaelagon naejot jikagon lenton. Nyke gaomagon daor jaelagon naejot ȳzaldrīzes." I wish to go home. I do not wish to talk.

"Gaomagon daor pirtir." He shook his head, shivering slightly in the wind. "I can tell when you lie." Do not lie.

It was true.

"Umbagon gīda," You hushed Vermithor, sliding your hand against his scales. Stay calm.

You stepped out from behind him, his head beckoning away and into himself as he rested.

"What do you wish to say?" You asked, stepping closer to him.

"I wish to apologise for the cruelty that you received from me when you came to Kings Landing," he admitted, hand still holding out towards you. "I never wanted to hurt you. You must know that."

You gulped, your walls crumbling in his presence.

"Please, Y/N," he pleaded with you, drawing attention to his hand. "We may never have this chance again to talk."

You reached for his hand, your delicate fingers intertwining with his rough ones.

Aemond wasted no time, yanking you in almost immediately as he twisted you around. Within seconds you could feel his dagger on your throat as your back pressed against his chest.

"I'm sorry. But there is no other way to take you back to Kings Landing with me." Aemond pulled you away, making Vermithor shift as he felt your discomfort. "You'll tell your dragon to stand down or you'll kill us both."

"Aemond, please don't do this," you cried, lips trembling.

"Now, Y/N."

"Obūljarion, Vermithor. Umbagon dīnagon." Yield, Vermithor. Stay put.

Vermithor cried as Aemond dragged you away, taking you to Vhagar.

All the way to King's Landing he was silent as you wept, hardly bothering to comfort you. This was the true hun, you reminded yourself in your head, not the one that you believed him to be.

He had brought you back in the middle of the night, no one seeing you as he brought you to his chambers. He had a bath made up by the servants, something you were awfully grateful for as you sat in wet rags.

The servants tried to leave the room but Aemond stopped them by the door, hissing something at them. They were timid bowing at him before leaving, scattering out of the door.

"Wash," Aemond commanded, standing by the door way. "I will be back in a minute."

You did.

When you were done, the only thing you could find to cover you was a thin night robe. You pulled it over, sitting by the fire and drying your hair with a cloth.

Aemond was back, finally. The door was shut with a slam behind him, the locks being bolted as well. You were his prisoner.

Your eyes found his, flinching away as he stripped himself of his clothes. You listened to each piece falling to the floor, staring at the fire in front of you.

"Come here," Aemond demanded.

You inclined your head backwards, only to return your gaze back to the fire as you realised his nudity.

"Don't make me drag you," Aemond's voice was coarse and unsettling. "Because I will."

You stood up, a gut wrenching feeling telling you not but you did anyway. You were slow as you made your way over to him, eyes holding his gaze rather than anything else.

"Tomorrow we will marry," Aemond announced, hand gripping the back of your head to pull you closer. "But tonight I will make you mine."

"No," you voice was barely above a whisper, struggling to take it all in. "No, I will not marry you."

He pushed his lips against yours, capturing them in a furious and bruising kiss. His hand wrapped around your throat while the other tore your night gown off your body. He pressed his bare chest against yours, pushing you against the bed.

You were quick to scamper up the bed, getting away from him. "Get away from me."

His hand caught your ankle, yanking you right back down. "Don't make this harder than it already is."

"I will not be bedded by you," you screamed, hitting against his chest in hopes he would move. "I am to marry Cregan Stark, not you."

Aemond didn't take this lightly, hand gripping at your throat once again but this time his hand tightened cutting off your air supply. "You are betrothed to me. No one, not even the Gods can take you from me."

You couldn't breathe, a wheeze leaving your lips as you clawed at Aemond's hand.

He let go, cupping your face instead as he went to look at you. His head rested against yours, a sigh leaving his lips. "I'm sorry."

He pushed your legs down folding you as your body became limp for him. You were terrified looking up at him, lips quivering as you lower lip pouted out.

"This will hurt at first but I swear I will make it pleasurable."

And it did.

He thrusted his cock in slowly, a sob leaving your lips at the sudden burn. Your walls stretched around him but as he pumped himself in and out, it didn't feel any easier or better with time.

"I know, I know," Aemond hummed, pressing feather light kisses against your wet face.

You turned your face to the side, closing your eyes as you tried to pretend you were anywhere else but there.

You thought it would be over quickly, that once he did it that you could wrap yourself in the sheets and forget.

But once Aemond had you once, he never wanted to stop.

Some where along the way it had got easier, there was a wetness between your legs that hadn't been there before and your cunt was used to the intrusion.

"I swear to the seven I'm never letting you go," Aemond groaned into your ear, chest pressing against yours as he did all the work. "I shouldn't have ever let you go."

"Aemond," you cried, one of pleasure and sadness.

You couldn't help as your walls clenched around him, practically holding him there. You couldn't stop him as his hand reached down towards your clit, rubbing you there.

Your body was tired and it was futile trying to fight against him at this point. If you could, you would. Well that's at least what you told yourself.

"I love you," Aemond confessed between kisses that he pressed against your lips.

You didn't respond instead you moaned his name as you came undone, eyes closing as you tried not to look at him. He was soon brought to his own release, spilling into your walls once again as came inside you. He collapsed after that, falling on top of you as he rested there.

While he slept, cock buried inside of you and his head in the crook of your neck, you painted yourself a picture. One where you and Aemond weren't part of this monstrosity of a family or at least one where he had taken you away from them after you returned to Kings Landing. In that place you could pretend that this was still the Aemond you loved and cherished, that this wasn't a man that called you a bastard and told you he wanted nothing to do with you. A man that had changed his mind, deciding he needed you and almost killing you on dragon back in the process. One that had taken you against your will.

In this world he was the sweet boy you had doted on. The one that suddenly became nervous after your mothers had betrothed you too each other even after knowing each other all your lives. One that adored you and would do anything for you.

That's where your dreams took you as you slept beside him, hoping that one day it could be like that.

"I will send the servants in. They will bring you some clothes and food," Aemond said, leaving you lying under the covers.

He was cold, all of a sudden another man once he woken. But you shook your head, not thinking anything of it.

"My princess," the servants bowed as they came in, bringing in a night gown and robe. "Would you like for us to draw you another bath?"

"If you'd be so kind," you said in a small voice, wrapping the robe over your body to cover you.

"Some food to eat," one of the servants placed a few trays down on Aemond's table, pouring you a tea before moving away.

"Thank you," you nodded, completely famished as you chomped on the food.

"You should have someone see to those bruises," one of the servants pointed to your skin. Aemond had sucked and bit all over your skin, claiming you as his.

"Maybe you could call the maester." You turned to them only to met with worried faces as they looked away.

"You could ask Prince Aemond," one of them suggested.

"I should." You nodded, turning back to your plate.

Something was off but you only realised what when Aemond returned to your room.

The servants were long gone by now and your bath was luckily still piping hot.

"You said we will be married," you said to him, gesturing to your gown. "Is this what you intend to marry me in?"

"It does not matter that you are wearing," he snapped at you.

"So when shall we leave?" You asked.

"Tonight."

It finally clicked. "No one knows that I'm here."

His gaze snapped towards you, grinding down his teeth as his jaw clenched.

"Do they?" You smirked as if this helped you at all. "Because if anyone was to know they would have me thrown in a cell for treason."

"Once we are married, they won't," Aemond replied, stepping closer to you.

"You don't know that." You shook your head.

He kneeled down to your position, fingers sliding into your hair as he pulled you in. "No one will take you away from me again."

"You don't know that."

"I won't let them." Aemond's hands slipped under your night gown, finding slick still there from last night. You flinched away, wishing you hadn't waited for the bath to cool down and had bathed already.

"Aemond, if you love me you'll let me go," you pleaded with him, tears brimming your eyes.

"No," Aemond growled, hovering his body over yours as he pushed you to the ground. "It's because I love you that I knew the best way to capture you. I knew calling you my dear would bring you back to me. Like it always has." He was quick to slip his breeches off pulling them far enough down to release himself from his the right restraints. "Kesrio syt nyke gīmigon ao jorrāelagon issa." Because I know you love me.

"Don't do this," you begged, slapping his face in hopes he would stop. "I do not love you. I hate you."

Aemond didn't stop instead you felt his cock press against your folds, sliding across it before slipping in. "Ao jorrāelagon issa," he whispered against you lips, pressing your arms on top of your head. You love me.

Your eyes closed, a soft sigh escaping your lips as he started to push in and out of you. This wasn't right, you tried to convince yourself. But Aemond felt right between your legs, your whole body weakening for him.

"See how you crumble for me," Aemond told you, rutting his hips into yours. "We are meant to be."

"I don't love you," you repeated, your voice getting smaller and smaller as Aemond sank further into you.

Eventually there was nothing but moans falling from your tongue. They mixed with Aemond's as they filled the room and you both clung to each other. All thoughts vanished as he you felt every ridge of him so deep inside you, unable to fight the oncoming feeling of a climax like never before.

Aemond could sense, fucking into you slightly harder as his mouth sucked on your tits. Your body was so reactive, hips bucking up into him as your walls squeezed him.

"Ivestragī jikagon jorrāelagon ābrazȳrys," he hummed, hands gripping your hips tightly for support. Let go, dear wife.

That's all it took, his words sending you over the edge as you came around him. Your cunt twitched so over worked that it didn't know how to handle it. Your own climax swept Aemond's right from him, having him spilling inside you with a few sloppy thrusts. You could feel him filling you up and you couldn't help as your walls clenched down trying to keep it all in.

Aemond noticed this, grinning when he pulled out and heard the desperate whine that escaped you.

"I will marry you under the seven tonight," Aemond reminded you, wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you up. "After that no one will ever be allowed to take you away from me again." He gently placed you in the bath, joining behind you as he held you against him. "I will kill anyone that stands to tear us apart."

Aemond dragged you through the Kingswood that night, to a small clearing by the lake. A clergy was waiting for the pair of you, shaking at the sight of Aemond.

You were sure Aemond had threatened him.

But at last the pair of you were married, under the Gods and there was nothing or no one that could stop it. Aemond clung to you after promising you that you wouldn't come to harms way. He had sent the Clergy off, taking you on the cold floor of the woods for the night to see.

As you lay there underneath him, you only knew one thing.

That you did love him. And that you would pray that nothing would take you away from him now.

If that made you a traitor, so be it. Because you would bow in front of anyone to be with Aemond, even the man that had usurped the throne from your mother and had waged war on your family.

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