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#I’m gonna be better than you. I’m gonna do it
a-b-riddle · 3 days
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Hear me out, but obsessed Simon Riley x reader.
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When you’re accused of being a traitor, Simon doesn’t hesitate in getting to work.
Even though you handed over all of your passwords, given them access to anything and everything they him immediately, it did nothing to help. You were going to be crucified.
Price and Laswell had already made the call. A call Simon couldn’t stand by and let happen.
It’s not that Simon believed you when you tried to prove you weren’t the leak.
He simply didn’t care if you were.
He didn't care if you had betrayed them. He didn't care if your innocent nature had truly been an act all along.
It was instinct to get you out of there. Not even for your own safety, but to insure Simon that no one could take you from him. If you remained a free agent, it was only a matter of time before they brought you in. After that, it was out of his hands. You were theres to hurt, to kill and he could do nothing to stop it. So what better way to insure that they can't take you other than taking you for himself?
He simply can’t have someone hurting his bird. So he sets the plan in motion.
Price intends on waiting for the order before executing the extraction plan. They wanted answers. How much did you tell Makarov? What did he know?
Simon was a step ahead. It was easy enough hiding in your garage, waiting for you to come home. The darkness of the night had aided him. You were blindly walking to the door connecting to your kitchen before you felt it. The gloved hand around your mouth and the sharp pinch in your neck.
When you wake up chained to a bed in a dark room, you knew you were as good as dead. They had taken you. This was it and you couldn't plead your case anymore than you already had. All your efforts in trying to prove your innocence were futile.
When Simon stepped in, still in his tactical gear your heart sank. He still had on his mask. Fully equipped. The knives on his side gleaming menacingly as the one light in your cell shined down on him. You swore that you would never betray him, the 141 or Laswell.
“Simon,” you begged already scurrying farther back toward the headboard, trying to create more distance. “I didn’t do it. I swear.” He didn’t stop his slow steps. Even as you began to cry. Even as you curled your body into a tight ball.
You sobbed as you pleaded for mercy, begging for your life. Your shaking violently as you felt him get on the bed. The frame creaking under his weight. You closed your eyes, turning your head away as you readied your self for the final blow to come. Wordlessly began unlocking the metal cuffs.
"Shhh," he soothed. "None of that now." He took your wrists in his hand before softly running his thumbs where the metal cuffs had left an imprint. “Couldn’t have you running off.” He explained, his tone... gentle. Speaking to you as if you were child. "That sedative can give you a pretty rough wake up call. Didn't need you hurtin' yourself. Needed to have a chat first.” He went on to explain you were in his home. Where he wouldn’t disclose. Only that you were safe.
You were safe.
You weren't going to be tortured.
You weren't going to be killed for something you didn't do. Your eyes filled with tears as you realized he was on your side. “You believe me.” You said, the tears resuming for a completely didn't reason. Relief flooded you and you had to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him.
“No,” his correction made your heart drop into your stomach.
"But..." You press your back hard against the wooden headboard. There's no where else to go. Nowhere else to run. "You said I was safe." He sighed. Tears flowed down your cheeks as he put his hand gently where your neck and jaw me.
"You are safe." But, if he didn’t believe you... why were you here? “I don’t care if you did it. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He reassured, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. Then he spoke so softly, you could have sworn he was talking more to himself than he was you. “Not going to let anything hurt you.”
It took you a moment to process it.
Simon had taken you... You were in his home and no one knew you were here. You didn't even know where exactly you were.
And Simon was touching you.
He was touching you. After years of working together, Simon was caressing your cheek. Showing such softness that it actually scared you. He took note of how he could feel your heart rate even through his glove.
"Why?"
“I’m protecting you.” He said, growing irritated that you weren't getting it. “Do you have any idea what they would have done to you?" He asked rhetorically, waiting rather patiently for you to be thanking him for saving you.
"Do..." Your head began to spin, trying to pull your mind away from all the possibilities on what could have happened. "Do I have to stay here?" You asked.
Simon was a patient man, but you beginning to test that patience. He let out a huff before pulling his hand away and placing it on your bare knee.
"Just until it all gets sorted." He lied, giving you a squeeze that he could only hope was reassuring. Even after they found the leak, you wouldn't be leaving him.
"Oh." You swallowed, nodding in understanding. "Okay." You let out a staggered breath trying to calm down. You were going to have to stay in this confined space, already feeling the claustrophobia creeping in as you felt the dark cement walls move in closer and closer. "Is there a bathroom I can use in here?" You asked, praying he wouldn't leave you with a bucket and a roll of toilet paper.
Simon laughed. He actually barked out a laugh, making you jump. "I meant you'll have to stay here with me." He clarified. "Not in the basement."
"Oh," the tenseness in your body seemed to ease up. "Good. It just feels..." you didn't finish. Too afraid to insult the man who quite literally held your life in his hands.
"No worries." he assured, finally taking his hand off of you to stand up. He held his palm out waiting for you to take his hand.
Without thinking twice, you did. Letting him help you stand even though your legs felt like they would give out at any minute. At the slight wobble of your knees, Simon took the liberty of scooping you up. A gasp escaping you.
Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Afraid that even though you had seen the man basically serve as a human battering-ram, you were afraid he would somehow drop you.
Simon's fingers ached to feel the softness of your thighs. He wanted to badly to come downstairs without his gear on. Bare himself to you. Reveal the face of the man behind the mask. Scars and all. He was worried that would have made it worse. Waking up in a basement, handcuffed to a bed with an unknown man aching to touch you.
He would show you his face soon enough. You would grow to love it. Each scar and imperfection on his face. His crooked nose and the touch of his calloused hands.
He planned to have you begging for it. To pepper kisses along his cheeks. Beg for his touch on your skin. Begging him to bury his fingers, his cock inside you. You would ache for him just as he had ached for you all this time.
You would fall as deeply as he had.
You would come to love your life with Simon.
No matter how long it took you to accept it.
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emphistic · 2 days
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hi emm! Since it’s prom season could u make basketball sukuna reacting to someone from the team asking you out for prom?
A/N: hii! i actually received a vv similar request a long time ago and i deleted it because i didnt know how to write it, so maybe this is a sign from God — my redemption time, LMAO
PS: sorry to all my readers who are actually jelly lovers, i am not one of you
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“So,” Gojo started, while shoving fries into his mouth, “have you got a date yet? Prom’s comin’ up real quick, y’know?”
The basketball team had just won their last game of the season, and all the players were eating out together in celebration. Sukuna was planning on just spending the rest of the night celebrating with you, like usual, but Gojo dragged him away and you only gave a thumbs up in encouragement. What a girlfriend you were, Sukuna scoffed, handing off your dear boyfriend to Gojo Satoru.
“Why do you care?” Sukuna grimaced at Gojo’s messy eating habits. How could one dare to speak while stuffing their face? Sukuna thought Gojo grew up wealthy, and, hey, aren’t rich people supposed to be, like, super into decorum? Where is this man’s etiquette?
“Sheesh, sorry for asking. I just wanted to know if my friend here,” he nudged Sukuna with his elbow, “needed some help getting a date. No need to be ashamed, Captain. I could hook you up with one of Utahime’s friends.”
“Yeah, no. But since you’re so curious, Satoru, I do have a date, actually.”
“No way, seriously? The big, bad, captain of the basketball team, has a date? For prom? I have to tell Suguru this.” Gojo whipped out his phone and, with his sauce-covered fingers, started typing like a madman.
Sukuna cringed, looking away and biting into his burger. This did not taste as good as your cooking. Why oh why did you let Satoru take him away? he thought. Sukuna would much rather be with you right now, even if it meant having to sit through one of your godawful rom-coms. Any of those would be better than Gojo fucking Satoru.
“I cannot believe he is missing this because he’s sick. Sick! That’s actually sick of him. Haha, get it?” Gojo leaned back in his chair, and Sukuna wished he would slip and fall backwards.
“There’s nothing shocking about me having a date, Satoru. I’m not some kind of loser.”
“Yeah, well. Yorozu’s not attached to your arm right now, so I thought—”
“I told you, I don’t like her like that. I don’t like her at all, matter of fact.”
“She’s, like, obsessed with you, dude.”
“I know,” Sukuna ran a hand down his face. “Just wish she would leave me alone, I’ve been trying my best to avoid her. And I haven’t seen her as often, so I think it’s working.” If Yorozu didn’t take the hint sooner or later, Sukuna would make your guys’ relationship known to the whole campus if he had to. Hell, Gojo didn’t even know yet. No one did, actually.
“Damn, so cold. You just gonna ignore her and break her heart?” Gojo laughed, but that quickly came back to kick him in the butt when he started choking on a fry.
“If you’re not joking, that fry will be the last thing you eat. I swear on your life, I do not want anything to do with that bitch.”
Gojo continued coughing and choking and shaking, but when all subsided and the white-haired man regained most of his posture, he posed the question, “So, you’re not gonna, like, ask me?”
“Ask you what? Ask you to prom? The fuck?”
“No, no, no. I mean, unless you wanted to,” Gojo tucked an overgrown strand of hair behind his ear, a stupid expression on his stupid face. “But, I’m talking about what I asked you. So, you gonna ask me if I have a prom date?”
“I don’t give a fuck if your lame ass has a date or not,” Sukuna spat out.
“Have you any idea how hurt I am now, because of you? Ehuhwaaa,” Gojo let out the fakest ugliest cry Sukuna had ever heard. “You think my ass is lame? Do you know how many would pay to see even a glimpse of my tush?”
“No. And I hope it stays that way.”
“I—how dare you.”
That night, Sukuna had to run away from Gojo in the parking lot of an In-n-Out. Otherwise, Gojo would’ve probably never left him alone. And, you might be thinking, Gojo is a fast runner. How did Sukuna get away? Well, it may or may not have been because Gojo had scarfed down three double-doubles prior. And he could barely stand upright without having to lean against Sukuna.
But, fear not, Sukuna did make it home, into your arms. And even though he did have to sit through your stupid rom-coms, he was so fucking glad to finally be away from that white-haired idiot.
Unfortunately for Sukuna, that peace and tranquility was short-lived. The next morning, he was woken up by your overly obnoxious doorbell. Seriously, when were you going to replace it?
Sukuna groaned, whispering into your hair, “Didn’t know you were expecting visitors, babe.”
“Hm?” Your voice was muffled; your face pressed impossibly close into Sukuna’s bare chest.
“Visitor, sweetheart. Someone’s at your door.”
“Huh?” You stuck your head up from your human pillow, and though missing the warmth, you were quite confused. Visitor? Since when?
It’s safe to say you were even more surprised to see Gojo Satoru outside when you opened your door. But you weren’t the only confused one, not for long, at least. Gojo raised his brow when he saw Sukuna emerge from behind you in all his glory: shirt nowhere to be found, hair unruly, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.
“Captain? What are you—?” Gojo cleared his throat, “Whatever. Anyway, will you, Y/N, do me the honor of being the jelly to my peanut butter and going to prom with me?” Gojo flashed a smile so bright Sukuna almost fell backwards.
“Uhh, I’m sorry—”
“She doesn’t even like jelly, dumbass. And what’s with this horrendous sign? That’s seriously the best you’ve got?” Sukuna gestured with his chin at the poorly drawn and colored peanut butter jar and jelly. Not to mention, Gojo was also dressed as a sandwich, with two slices of bread on either side of his body.
“What the hell? How would you know if she liked jelly or not?”
“Because I’m her prom date.”
“And—and, what are you doing at her house?”
“I’m her boyfriend.” Sukuna glared at the white male, and slung an arm around your shoulder, out of spite.
Gojo paused, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. “Ohhh. So that’s why you didn’t want to come eat with us yesterday. And that’s why you were so desperate to go home. And that’s why I haven’t seen you with another girl in months.”
“Uh huh.”
“Anywho,” Gojo turned back to you, shoving his sign all up in your face. “Will you go to prom with me?”
“Dude.”
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erwinsvow · 20 hours
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knocked up too young and wearing a glittery diamond ring on your left hand, you had settled nicely into the role of mrs. cameron. it wasn’t tough, not a hard position to play in the slightest—rafe, or rather your husband—made everything nice and easy for you.
it seemed like it was his biggest desire come true, making sure you and his little girl were taken care of. he liked it actually, more than he admitted, knowing the two of you were fast asleep in bed when he left for work in the morning, doing nothing but relaxing throughout the day.
in fact, he had decided the second you had tearfully confessed that you were pregnant that this was the sort of life you were meant for, the kind of life he was going to give you. you were so scared, he can remember it like it was yesterday—your watery eyes and wet cheeks, the way your hands shook when you pulled out the test to show him.
“i-i-i’m so sorry, i, i thought the pills were enough, everyone says it’s enough-” you were stammering and crying your way into exhausation, something he definitely didn’t like. 
“s’okay, kid. nothin’ to cry about.” he was formulating his plan already, being proactive in all matters, thinking ahead to marriage licenses and car seats while you stared down at the positive stick in your palm.
“you’re.. you’re not mad, rafe?” the way you look at him, the world stops spinning. why would he be mad?
“hey, s’done,” he says, hands on your shoulders to steady you, bringing you to the edge of the bed to take a seat. he takes the pregnancy test from your hands, looking down at it himself. “it already happened. can’t take it back. no point in cryin’ over it.” 
when you look up with even more tears in your eyes, he’s half convinced he’s said the wrong thing—but it doesn’t faze him, he keeps going.
“hey, hey. what, you thought i wouldn’t take care of you? this is my kid too.”
“i know, i just, i thought you wouldn’t be okay.. with it. having it.” that’s the first and only time he got stern with you through this whole pregnancy.
“hey, don’t talk like that. this is our baby. there’s no question ‘bout havin’ it.” you nod up at him, tears drying as you steady yourself, regain a little composure knowing rafe’s not mad about this little accident. “y’okay now?” you nod again. “good, call your parents. tell ‘em we’re getting married soon.” 
“wh-rafe!” 
but, like how most things were with rafe, he called the shots and you listened. the two of you got married shortly after, before you were even showing. anyone who even attempted to comment on the hastiness of everything shut up the second rafe stared at them.
you’d be a liar to say you didn’t like it, a fool if you didn’t appreciate how rafe was to you.
he stepped up in every way, better than you could have even tried to put together in your imagination. a place was purchased and had slowly started to become home, with a crib that rafe assembled by himself—though it had taken hours and ended up with the instruction papers all crumbled up in a corner—and baby proofed cabinets and sockets. you laugh watching rafe try to install the baby gate on the staircase.
“you know that’s for when they start crawling, right?” you giggle, a hand on your very pregnant belly.
“shut up. m’being proactive. gonna have no time once she actually gets here and we’re runnin’ around changing diapers and makin’ formula and shit.” 
you’re only a touch surprised with how well-versed he is with all the baby stuff, though you appreciate it more and more since you’re still a little confused and overwhelmed. he makes it all easy, from the pregnancy cravings he runs around to find for you to the pretty pink walls in the nursery. he even satisfies all your other cravings, like around month six when there was nothing you wanted more than rafe's dick in every position you could think of.
when his daughter actually comes into the world, the two of you are a mess of emotions and thoughts, but there’s only one rafe really cares about. when can he give you another one?
it doesn’t take long for him to start trying again—trying to convince you that the two of you can handle two, that little kids need siblings their age. the baby’s only six months old but he’s convinced it’ll be better to have them all young at the same time rather than waiting—at least that’s the line he feeds you.
“no, rafe, they’re gonna be like irish twins. it’s so embarassing,” you say next to him in bed, staring up at your husband. 
“what’s that?”
“when you have two babies that aren’t even a year apart.”
“oh. that’s a thing? good, at least there’s a name for it. i’ll get you a book on it, since that’s what we’re doin’.”
and try as you might, even you can’t resist rafe for long, not when he’s taking such good care of you and just wants to give you another baby with his blue eyes and your pretty hair. you end up in the same position that got you into this whole situation—your knees folded to your chest and eyes rolling back while rafe slams into you. 
“don’t worry, baby,” he breathes into your ear, low and quiet since the baby’s sleeping in the other room. “i’ll get y’knocked up again. won’t have to think about a thing in this world except my kids.”
it’s a shame you get pregnant so quickly—rafe was so fun when his only thought revolved around fucking you full of his cum. 
“well, s’not gonna be irish twins. too far apart,” rafe says, looking at the photos from the doctor’s appointment.
“no, it’s just regular twins.” you don’t think you’ve ever seen rafe so happy.
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luveline · 9 hours
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How about Steve with a reader who already has a kid? Like they're in their twenties and she has maybe 2 or 3 year old. Her ex isn't in the picture so it's just her. Maybe the fic is Steve finally getting to meet readers son/ daughter. Maybe she has to leave their date earlier due to a babysitter problem and Steve just comes along with her and they spend the night together.
ty for requesting <3 mom!reader, 2k
“Try not to show fear,” you’re saying, your hand pulled tight against his. He savours the softness of it even as the concrete steps to your house force you apart. 
“I’m not scared.” 
“I’m just saying, Steve. Toddlers know when you’re scared.” 
“But I’m not scared.” Steve has handled worse than toddlers. If your kid is anything like you, this will be a walk in the park. 
You grin at him and give him one of your cute shrugs, though shyness he recognises from your first date stiffens your shoulders again as you open your front door. 
Your home is small. The first thing he notices is the cramped space walking in, the tight stairs, but the second thing he notices is the amount of life, photographs that deck the walls and colour everywhere, clothes folded and waiting to be taken upstairs, little shoes in a stand by an open bathroom door. 
“Melanie?” you call. “You okay?” 
Melanie appears in the door with a huge watery frown, who Steve assumes to be your young son smiling on her hip, unperturbed. “I’m so sorry.” 
She’d been incoherent on the phone, though eventually squeezed out that it was nothing wrong with Noah. Melanie’s boyfriend appears to have broken up with her over the phone. 
You scoop Noah off of his babysitter's hip, holding him with far more ease. He drops his face with affection to the curve of your bare shoulder. It’s a shame you and Steve had to come home —you’re wearing the nicest dress he’s ever seen. But not a shame, because Steve’s excited to meet the baby. 
You could’ve sent him home. He assumes this means some level of trust and, better, permanency. If all goes well, he might be able to ask you to go steady soon. He’d love to do it tonight. 
“Don’t worry, Melanie, you can’t help it if something bad happens, can you? I’m really sorry about your boyfriend. Do you need me to drive you home?” 
Melanie sniffles miserably. “No, that’s okay, I can drive. I’m sorry.” 
You rub her arm. “It’s okay, really. We were just gonna have dinner and head home.” 
Steve internalises his reaction to that tidbit well. Melanie gives him a sad smile and passes by, her shoes heavy and smacking as she leaves with a mumbled farewell. 
“She’s a little emotional,” you say sympathetically, before turning your attention to the sleepy kid on your shoulder. “Sorry, Noah, guess you’re stuck with mommy and her new friend. Do you want to say hi?” 
Noah lifts his head, following your hand where you point at Steve, a smile like yours on his lips. 
Steve genuinely isn’t scared of kids, he loves them, and he loves talking to them. “Hi, buddy. It’s nice to meet you.” 
You hum appreciatively. “Go on, say hi to Steve.” 
“Hi,” Noah says quietly. 
Your voice is different around the baby, not any less pretty but softer, and quieter. It has Steve lowering his own voice in an attempt to mimic you. “Hi, bud.” 
“He’s my new best friend,” you explain, ushering Steve closer, your hand touching gently to his shoulder. 
Noah’s even more your image now he’s closer, all your eyes and smile and brightness, but he’s got someone else’s nose, and he’s got a bad case of yawns. You laugh at his scrunched nose, wiping your thumb lightly over his bottom lip. “You want to go to bed, sweet boy?” you ask. 
“No… buppy.” 
“You want your buppy. Okay, I’ll get it for you.” You pull your arm through Steve’s. “Let’s go.” 
He laughs and goes happily. Your kitchen is empty compared to the hallway, it’s surprising, but then you open a cabinet for the aforementioned bubby and a couple of things come tumbling out. “Whoops,” you say, popping Noah down on the floor. “Can you put those away for me, please? Thank you.” 
Noah tries his best, but everything he puts in comes tumbling back out, earning a few high-pitched giggles. You crack the fridge open for a pint of cows milk. 
“He doesn’t have formula?” 
“No, you can give them whole milk after a year, but he doesn’t really need it anymore, it’s just to help him self-soothe at nighttime.” 
“Mom, I can’t do it,” Noah laughs. Steve thinks that great, that laughing. He could’ve had a tantrum (Steve wouldn’t blame him). 
Steve crouches down. “Can I help?” 
Noah gives Steve a smile, eyes squinting nearly entirely shut. “Yes.” 
“Okay, awesome. Looks like your mom needs more cabinets for all your stuff.” He starts to pick up the pieces. 
“I need a whole new house,” you say, filling the bottle about three quarters before sticking it in your microwave uncapped. You set the timer for fifteen seconds and prop your chin in your hand, elbow on the counter. Steve thinks it’s your best angle yet, your dress, your arms, the friendly smile you’re wearing that hasn’t once ebbed since the first date. It all gets his chest in a twist. 
He knows getting your baby to like him is make or break. And he really wants to give this a shot, you and him, you and Noah. He thinks you’d be good together. (Maybe he’s crazy and too forward, but you really are beautiful in your dress.) 
“How’s that?” he asks, closing the cabinet behind a tower of bottles and baby bowls.
“Perfect! Good job, baby,” Noah says, tapping Steve on the knee. 
Steve snorts. “Thank you.” 
“He’s going through a phase of saying everything I say,” you explain, yanking open the microwave to test the milk on the back of your hand. 
You deem the milk sufficiently warmed and offer Noah your hand, swiping a takeout menu from the fridge as you pass, and once again grabbing Steve by the arm to drag him along. He’s content to be dragged. You lead everyone into the living room, and he’s again surprised by how small it is. 
You catch his look. “Are you judging me, Harrington?” 
“What? No? Of course not.”
“Messing with you. There’s an extension out back, on the kitchen? That’s where I keep the rest of the toys.” You drop down onto the couch with a sigh. “Come here, babe, come cuddle with mommy.” 
If Noah weren’t in earshot, Steve would make a joke about how he hopes you aren’t talking to him. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t.
You lay back and Noah climbs up onto one side of you, his hands out ready for his bottle, while your arm stretches out for Steve. “Come ‘n’ sit.” 
Steve sits knee to knee with you. He’s not scared of kids, and he isn’t scared of you, either. He knows exactly what he wants, and he isn’t afraid to let you know it, taking your hand where it lies open on your thigh. 
“What were you gonna get?” you ask, nodding to the takeout menu. 
“I don’t know, I’ll have what you’re having,” Steve says. 
“What if you don’t like what I’m having?” 
“I’ll learn.” 
You tip your chin up at him, beaming. “Yeah? What if I like something completely unamerican?” 
“I gotta learn sometime, right?” He squeezes your fingers nicely. 
“Well, my Noah likes everything.” You kiss Noah’s forehead, stealing his attention from his bottle, bright eyes tracing your face and then your hand where Steve is rubbing the back of it. 
“Then he can have some of everything.”
You and Steve share a loving smile. Smiles smiles smiles, everybody’s getting on, this is the best sixth date anyone’s ever had, best date full stop, though your fifth date was a close second. You and Steve had spent hours together in a park in the city eating picnic foods and soaking in the sun together, your nose brushing off of his ribs, his jacket balled up under your head. He’d kissed you twice that night when you finally, sorrily had to go home, and you’d said, Aw, I really like you, as you held hands on the stoop. He should’ve asked you then to give it a proper go, but now he’s met Noah he figures it’s as good a time as any. 
“Hey,” Steve begins, clearing his throat, “would you–”
“Woh!” Noah shouts around the teet of his bottle. It falls from his lips. “We wiw hands,” he garbles, a bunch of baby flavoured gibberish as he leans over your stomach to cover your hand where it’s held in Steve’s. “Mom!” 
“What, babe?” 
“My hand!” 
“You’re not jealous, are you?” you ask with a laugh. 
“Mom!” he says, slapping your hands insistently with his own. 
Steve loosens your fingers, leaving a gap between your palms. “Quick, bud, put your hand in.” 
Noah climbs onto your leg and presses his hand into the fold, though he grows annoyed at the weird fit, and immediately starts to sniffle. Steve winces, but you’re used to it. “Aw, don’t start the waterworks. Come on, what happened to sharing? We’re good sharers.” 
Steve lets go of your hand. He’s reluctant, sure, but he doesn’t wanna be on anyone’s bad side. Noah cries for a few seconds like he’s forgotten why he’s upset, but he sees your open palm and the cog finishes turning. 
“Hold mommy’s hand,” you say, wiggling your fingers. 
Noah thinks about it. He ends up on his side across your leg staring at you, then at Steve, who smiles at him cheerfully. “He’s so handsome,” Steve says. “He has your face. Guess that’s why you’re so handsome, huh?” He shakes his head at Noah gently. “‘Cos you got all your good looks from your mommy.”
“He knows what that means,” you preen, leaning down to speak closer to Noah’s ear. “Don’t you? You’re my handsome boy.” 
Noah puts his hand in Steve’s with another tinkling laugh. 
“Oh! I see how it is, you wanna be Steve’s friend too. Can’t let me have anything for myself, can you?” 
“No,” Noah says cheekily. 
Steve collects Noah’s little hand in his. “Good!” he says. “You should get everything you want, just like mom.”
“Think so?” you ask. 
Steve nods. 
You cover Noah’s eyes with your hand and move up to press a quick kiss to Steve’s lips. “Like you?” you ask. 
Steve’s just stoked to have someone he likes actually like him back at the same level. Noah squirms away from your hand to squeeze Steve’s tighter. Two someones. 
“Like me,” he says, grinning. 
“Mommy, kiss!” Noah says urgently. “Kiss!” 
You pull your gaze from Steve’s. “Sorry, I’m sorry! Come here, baby, I’ll give you a kiss too. I guess I’m gonna be giving double the kisses I used to, my poor chapped lips.” You kiss kiss kiss Noah across the forehead. 
Steve flusters thinking about it, making a mental note to get you some chapstick. He’d go pretty crazy for a crown of kisses like that. 
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scudevils · 1 day
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thick thighs save lives — QH43
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pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader
warnings: essentially smut with minimal plot (easing myself back into writing), thigh riding (🤭🤭), swearing, playoff beard representation, pretty much me just loving big thighs icl, sappy sap is back (i would say i’m sorry but im not), not proofread!!
synopsis: name a better match than hockey players and thick thighs [1.8k]
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hockey players and thick thighs, a match made in heaven some way would say, their wives would anyway and you could definitely attest to it.
you were obsessed from the moment you'd started dating, wether it was not so innocent glances when he'd be wearing just slightly too short shorts, the ones that rode up when he sat down and especially when he wore trunks at the pool. or when you had no impure thoughts as you sat on his lap, maybe it was watching tv, sharing a seat whilst at the lakehouse or just whenever you wanted to be close to him.
long story short, you liked quinn's thighs, and he was more than aware of it.
you were staring, but of course you were, years after you'd first begun dating and quinn and you were still deep in the honeymoon phase, you were as smitten as a woman on her wedding day if what your mother would say. the weatherman was right for once, mid 20s felt like paradise after the cold winter, and you were all out enjoying the sun whilst it lasted.
the season had ended a few weeks ago, the canucks being knocked out of the second round of the playoffs by just a goal and you were sad for quinn, his second season as captain of the team and you knew he wanted to replicate the success of the first. but unfortunately, things weren't meant to be and he was home earlier than expected, not that you were complaining.
you felt like a damn perv, eyeing up your boyfriend from the deck chair across from him, you knew he needed this time to relax, destress from the season, and what he didn't need was you wanting to fuck him every two seconds. but he was just as bad, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of your chest the second you’d gone out in your bikini.
quinn's head was back against the chair, eyes shut underneath his dark lensed glasses as he faced the sky, the sun shining on his already pink-tinged cheeks, you did warn him to wear suncream, his hands were comfortably sat on his stomach, but all you could look at were his short-clad thighs, the bright blue material standing out against his slightly tanned skin in a way that had you going feral.
you wanted him, needed him in every sense of the word. perhaps there was something wrong with you, the way you couldn't help but squeeze your legs shut as you thought about the way you wanted to use his thigh. "can feel you starin'" his voice broke through the silence, your thoughts punctured by reality when he tilted his head so his eyes could meet yours.
"admiring." you corrected him, a playful smile toying on your lights as he let out a laugh, sitting up and you couldn't help the glance towards his thighs, spread out across both sides of the chair and you were almost certain he was doing it on purpose.
his beard had grown out since the regular season had finished, still not having shaved it since they'd been eliminated from the playoffs and you were doing everything to deny the inevitable. you thought he looked hot with it, he always did to you but there was something about quinn with a beard that really did it for you.
"hm, and what're you admiring?" oh he'd definitely caught you staring, a blush blazing on your cheeks at the thought of his knowing how badly you wanted him, and he could tell your brain was about to short circuit when he beckoned you over; sitting you between his legs on the lounger. "well you gonna tell me?"
“you know what." you didn't make eye contact as you spoke, burying your head in his neck in embarrassment as he wrapped his arms around your back.
"do i? think i'm gonna need a reminder."
"quinn..." you dragged out his name, your cheeks still a burning shade of pink and you swore in that moment you'd die of embarrassment. his hand moved from behind your back to rest just under your chin, lifting your head enough to force you to look at him, his pupils more blown out than before.
he hummed in response, his lips on your neck in a second and you were forced to suck in a breath, hands pressed against his chest to regain balance when you found yourself grinding your hips down against his, a groan falling from his mouth muffled by your skin. "wanna ride your thigh, please q."
you felt quinn smile against your collarbone, his lips not leaving you when you felt his hands on your hips readjusting you over one of his thighs. "love it when you tell me what you want." he muttered against you, voice thick as it dripped with lust.
tilting your head to the side you allowed him more access to your neck, feeling the way he left opened mouthed kisses against you that you knew for certain would leave bruises later but in that moment you didn't care. it was a new sensation for you, the thick muscle underneath you and you gave an experimental roll of your hips against it, pleasure shooting through your body from the friction.
the growing pressure between your legs caused a few small moans to escape your mouth, the feeling slowly building. he moved his arm to join the other on your hip, being able to rock them more forcefully now. "is this what a few weeks without me does to you? gets you so desperate you'll ride my thighs?"
his hand forced your jaw up to look at him, your eyes still not meeting his and quinn couldn't help the laugh that fell from his lips. "been wanting to do this for a while yeah? keep seeing you looking at 'em."
the pace of your moving hips never faltered, the look he was giving you somehow adding to the growing pleasure, like he was almost impressed you could get yourself off like this, or more so that you'd been thinking about it to. "fuck, quinn, yes." his head tilted to the side, the hand on your jaw staying firm with one of his fingers tapping against the skin. "been thinking about this for so long."
your confession ignited a fire inside of him, a moan slipping from your lips as he tensed the muscle underneath you, helping you roll your hips against him in a way that nearly had you crying out. warmth pooled in your stomach, feeling the way you clenched around nothing as you continued rocking your body against his, desperate for any sort of release but he wasn't going to help you out.
"cmon baby, know you can get there yourself." he replied when you let out a whine about how it wasn't enough and you needed more, he gave in a little bouncing his leg and catching you off guard, adding to the sensation. the nature of his word made goosebumps raise on your arms despite the warm temperatures, feeling your nippled harden against your bikini top, and it sent a shiver down your spine in anticipation.
"'m so close, q," you moaned against his neck, heading falling into the curve of his shoulder as you bit down on the skin when he flexed under you again, sending a ripple of pleasure through your body.
"you gonna me a mess on my thigh? know you've been thinking 'bout it." you didn't even have to look to know quinn was grinning like the fucking cheshire cat, almost certain he was somehow enjoying this more than you were, his hands holding a tighter grip on your hips as he took over some of the work, pressing you against his thigh as you let out a louder whine of his name.
the coil in your stomach wound tighter, the rush of warmth throughout your body hitting you like a ton of bricks as your body collapsed against his, thighs shaking around his as you cried out, whimpers and whines as he took over, guiding your hips over his thigh as he helped you ride it out. when his grip against your waist didn't stop, the sensitivity causing you to whine into his shoulder.
"thats the hottest fucking thing i've ever seen." quinn could feel your heart still beating rapidly against his chest, spurring him on even more to get you to another orgasm on just his thigh. your thighs were still shaking around him, a little light headed when he spoke again. "one more?"
“quinn-" your voice was breathless when you tried to argue back, throat hoarse from before and you knew arguing was futile.
"know you can." his lips found your temple, reassuringly kissing it. "just like that." he swore he was going mad, hearing you whimpering into his shoulder again, not trusting your arms enough to be able to support you.
quinn's words of praise were a killer, enough to tip you over the edge whenever he wanted you to. you were putty in that mans hands the second he started sweet talking you.
just as before you felt the familiar feeling building in your stomach, much quicker than before, the muscles in your core already tensing. quinn could read your body like a book, not even needing to ask if you were closer before you were coming undone on his thigh again.
your nails dragged down his back, most likely going to leave red scratch marks for the next couple days, and he was thankful he didn’t have the boys to tease him about them this time. his hands stopped their movements of your hips, allowing you the minute or two you needed to come down from your high and catch your breath once again.
quinn pushed the fallen hair out of your face, lifting your lips to meet his in a soft kiss, tender, wanting nothing out of it but to show you that he loved you. “you're so good to me." his praise already igniting that feeling in your stomach again. “gonna need you to do that more often.”
you laughed against his chest, finding the strength to push yourself up to see his face, holding his jaw in your hands as you placed a chaste kiss to his lips, enjoying the scratch of his grown out stubble underneath your fingertips. “whilst we’re talking about kinks, you’re keeping the beard.”
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moonstruckme · 3 days
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Hiiii!! I saw that you were asking for camp counselor! James and I got an idea, what if reader and him weren’t yet together but they were both pinning on one another and he was just telling the kids how adorable the reader is and the kids thought that they would be so good together and were so happy when they finally got together!!!
Thanks for requesting sweetheart!
camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 751 words
You spot James before he does you, holding court among a circle of campers enjoying their free time after lunch. The sun beats down on the unshaded bit of grass in front of his cabin, but James doesn’t seem to mind. He’s all loose and smiley, skin glowing in the afternoon light and hair that hasn’t been cut since May curling just above the rims of his glasses, meanwhile you can already feel the tickle of sweat forming on your skin. 
He looks up as you approach, grin widening the second before his face smooths into seriousness. “Careful, guys, we’ve got a wily one coming to join us,” he tells the kids. “Keep your cards close.” 
You roll your eyes, sitting down with your legs crossed beneath you between a couple of girls from your cabin. “What are you playing?” You ask them, and yet James answers anyway. 
“Blackjack.” You look up at him, and he smiles. Almost bashfully, like he’s unable to help himself. “Crazy eights,” he concedes, setting down his hand to deal you in. “Here, we’re just starting.” 
“James,” one of his boys whines, “we’re halfway through.”
“What harm does it do you, Cal?” he asks. “You’re set to win anyway.” 
“It’s okay,” you promise, “James is allowed to set me up for failure if he likes.” 
James pretends to be appalled, making the kids laugh, but he can’t keep it up for long before he’s smiling back at you. You like doing this with him, allying together. It feels like you’re in on some sort of secret, though you’re not sure what that might be. 
“It’s probably because he fancies her,” one of the other boys whispers to Cal in a not-so-low voice. 
You do your best to keep your eyes on your cards and your feelings off your face, but you feel a heat that has nothing to do with the sun creeping up the back of your neck. 
“Shush!” One of your campers, Mary, elbows the other boy sharply. “You’re so loud.” 
You don’t dare sneak a glance up at James, but when one of the girls goes, “Wait, what?” and the circle erupts in giggles, you can’t help it. He’s grinning at you, that us-against-the-world look again, like kids, right? You hope your answering smile looks half as relaxed. 
“You guys are worse gossips than my mum, you know that?” The kids’ laughter worsens as he feigns an exasperation that’s easy to see through, setting his hands on his hips. You pointedly do not notice how nicely the pose displays his biceps and forearms. “This is why I don’t tell you any real secrets.”
The boys from James’ cabin look genuinely upset. You feel a bit bad for them even as relief washes over you, tinged with a bit of disappointment.
“It wasn’t a secret?” the boy who’d spoken asks. 
James gives him a sideways look. “Hate to break it to you, mate, but look at her.” Blood rushes to your face as the kids gasp and ooh conspiratorially at each other almost too loud for you to hear him saying, “I’m only human.” 
You feel no better than the kids when the first response that rushes to your lips is shut up, but you choose to take your own advice, rolling your eyes like you think he’s joking despite the light and undeniable sincerity in James’ tone. Butterflies crowd your stomach.
“Y/n, are you gonna be his girlfriend?” one of the girls from your cabin asks, grinning ear to ear. 
“Um, it’s not quite so simple—” 
“Terrible!” James exclaims, looking around the circle with a scandalized expression. “You’re all terrible. I haven’t even asked her anything! You’re going to kill your counselor, and what then? You think the next one will let you play in her hammock?” 
“We’re not allowed to do that anymore,” another of your girls says sulkily. 
James looks to you, and you shrug, sheepish. “I got caught. They said it wasn’t safe.” 
“Whatever,” James blazes onward, “the point is, who will I have to talk to if you kill her? Be considerate, guys. Plan ahead.” 
“James,” you plead, very nearly on the brink of actual death, you’re sure. 
“And that,” he says promptly, stacking three fives and holding up his hands empty, “is how you win at crazy eights.” 
The kids erupt in shouts, pointing fingers and throwing down their cards, and James sends you a wink. 
You think you need to take a dunk in the lake. 
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babygorewhore · 2 days
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I’m talking now.
You decide to push Rafe’s buttons. W. C less than 1k.
Warnings! Choking! Male masturbation! Spitting! Daddy kink! Brat taming! Dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx
My first blurb of Dolly and Morgy’s writing game! Please join us and tag us!
“Yeah, okay!” You roll your eyes and return to typing away on your phone as you drown out Rafe. You knew it was a dangerous game, being a brat to him like this but you truly wanted to make him break.
He had just got home after work, still in his suit and tie, he looked at you with a bewildered expression. “Are you okay?” You look up from your mobile.
“Yup! Super!” You bite at him and look down. Your heart starts racing as silence fills the air but then finally you hear his footsteps retreat. Damn, you’d have to push even harder especially considering he had been trying to work on his temper lately to be a better boyfriend.
Minutes went by and Rafe returned, wearing a t- shirt and gray sweatpants and he settled on the couch next to you but you still remained on your phone aimlessly scrolling. It was hard to ignore him but you contained the urge to peer up at him.
“So…how was your day, baby girl?” He asks and you sigh.
“Fine. You?” Your short reply made him bristle but he told you about his day but you turned away from him, nestling your body against the cushion.
“Okay. What the hell is going on? Did I do something?” Rafe demands and you scoff, folding your arms. Your back is still facing him on the couch. “No, Rafe. What would make you think that?” You felt your body turn, his hand on your shoulder and he moves you so you’re sitting up. Facing him.
“Listen. We don’t do this. We don’t ignore each other. If something happens, you tell me.” He raises his eyebrows to make sure you hear him but you sigh and look at your nails. “Hey. Look at me,” he cups your chin and tilts your head up. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir!” You salute and stand, nudging him off. “Yes, father! Anything you say! God, you’re so bossy! You think because you’re Mr. Rafe Cameron you can say and do whatever you want to whoever you want. And it’s annoying! Like I GET it, Rafe. I’m your girlfriend, not a dog you can bark at!”
Rafe looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “What in the fuck are you talking-“
But you plug your ears and interrupt. “Oh, god will you just stop being so dumb, Rafe? How many ways do I have to explain something to you?”
“STOP! STOP IT!” Rafe bellowed, causing your mouth to immediately close and your eyes to widen. Everything in your body froze as his face went red. “I’m talking now! And you do NOT speak to me like that.”
You had no idea what bravery or stupidity took over you but you gave him a slow and steady smile. “Or what?”
That was it. Rafe wrapped his hand around your throat, throwing you onto the couch and he mounted you. His fingers tightened as he leaned down, teeth gritted and his eyes burned. “You’re going to fucking regret this, sweetheart.” He promised as his other hand rips off your shorts, dragging off your panties along with it but instead of ripping them, he brings them to his mouth. “Not gonna cum in you. Only good girls get daddy’s cum in their desperate pussies.”
He licks the center of the lace, moaning at the taste coating his tongue as your hands try and bring him down but his strength overpowers you as he keeps you still. “Not so tough now, are you?” He mocks as you whimper around his grip as he moves to cover your mouth with his palm. Rafe licks another stripe up your underwear before he reaches down, shifting his sweatpants down and showing his hard on through his boxers. He wraps your panties around his hand, sticking them inside his underwear and takes his cock in his fist. He moves so your bare cunt is beneath.
“Daddy-“ You manage underneath his hand but he pushes down harder, stroking his dick faster and he moves your legs apart wider with his knee.
“Oh, no. You don’t get to beg now, pretty baby. You were a bad girl and bad girls get punished.” Rafe’s precum leaks and drips onto your pussy as you tremble watching him jerk himself off with your underwear, “such a fucking whore, huh? Needed my attention so bad you pissed me off?”
Rafe was close, jerking his hips into his hand as you whined underneath him and he let go of your mouth. Sliding his hand to your hair and he pulled your head back. “Open your fucking mouth, greedy little slut.” You do and he spits inside, “aw you do know how to listen.” He taps your cheek a few times before bursting into his palm and fingers.
He moans loudly and smashes his lips to yours in a searing kiss, a mash of teeth and tongue. Rafe slaps your cunt before shoving in his dripping cum inside your entrance before he yanks out his hand with your panties. Rafe shoves them back on your body, up your legs and you gasp at the wet sensation against your pussy.
“You’re gonna wear those as a reminder of what happens when you’re a brat.” Rafe pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of your cunt. “And this is gonna be my little porn when I’m gone. Do you understand?”
You nod with tears in your eyes. “Yes, daddy.”
Rafe smirks and climbs off. “Good. Maybe I’ll reward you later.”
Tagging some moots. @marchsfreakshow @drewstarkeyslut @oceandriveab @rafescurtainbangz @slvt4jamesmarch @rafesthroatbaby @gri959 @redhead1180
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feyhunter78 · 3 days
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Think I'm Gonna Call it Off
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Description: You have been Prince Aemond's secret for years now, but a certain visiting Stark opens your eyes to what could be.
Inspired by the line “think I’m gonna call it off, even if you call it love, I just wanna love someone who calls me baby.” From Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan
Part 2
This was ridiculous, you are a Lady of a fine house, virtuous, beautiful, intelligent, kind and your embroidery skills have been praised by Queen Alicent herself and yet here you sit waiting for Prince Aemond to return. To return and not spare you a single glance. Not until you are tucked away from the prying eyes of the court, until he is confident no one can hear your conversations.
You wonder if it is foolishness that keeps you sitting there, leaning against one of the many windows in the library, searching the skies for Vhagar’s great form set against the clouds.
You have rejected a number of suitors, worried your father and mother, made yourself seem all but undesirable in the eyes of the court, all because the prince swore that he would tell his mother. That he would announce to the whole of the realm that he loved you, and that you would be wed as soon as possible. He does not want a Valyrian wedding he said, he has no taste for it, he wants to honor you, honor his mother, and the Seven whom he worshiped.
“Lady y/n?” Lord Cregan Stark’s voice rolls through you like thunder, the deep baritone, the rouge northern brocade that made him pronounce your name just slightly different from everyone else, just enough that shamefully it makes you feel special.
You turn your head away from the towering window and give him a small smile. “Lord Stark, I did not expect to see you here.”
He returns your smile and leans against the wall; arms crossed over his chest.
Seven help you, he did have such strong looking arms, the sight of them never ceases to distract you. Even his thick tunic, and his dark-colored cloak could not hide them. Truly, everything about Lord Stark seemed strong. Queen Alicent said it is common of a Northmen, that they must be strong to survive the winters, while Lady Frey said it was the wolf’s blood in his veins. That all Starks had unnatural strength, speed, and stamina granted to them by the Old Gods. Neither woman’s explanation accounted for the man’s looks though.
Lord Stark is quite handsome, a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones with a close-cut beard, more stubble than a full beard though, and gray eyes like a winter storm. His dark hair is around Prince Aegon’s length, though often tied back and much better cared for. His lips are full and healed, having been cracked and dry from the drastic change in temperature on his trip down south. A small scar runs through the corner of them, on the right side, giving him a more roguish appearance. He said he had gotten it as a child, playing around with his father’s sword. And he was tall, so, so tall, towering over you in a way no man has before.
Then he laughs, the sound warming you to the bones, making a blush rise to your cheeks. “Do not tell me you think me a barbarian, as the others do. I thought you knew me better than that, little fox.”
The name he has graced you with never fails to make your heart stutter and disrupt any coherent thought you might have had. It is a reference to your house sigil, you know that. But the way he says it, how his accent wraps around each syllable, makes it seem far more…intimate than simply a friendly moniker given to you by a man who does not know your customs.
Aemond calls you his, or some sweet term of endearment in High Valyrian in private, sticking to Lady y/h/n in public. You wish he would use your name, you have told him time and time again, even the Queen and Princess Helaena use it. You have been at the Red Keep for nearly a decade now, been in the Princess’ inner circle of friends for almost as long, it would not seem strange to others.
“Lord Stark—”
“Cregan, or Lord Cregan if you must add the lord, as I have told you before.” He corrects you, but not unkindly, his lips curling up into a fondly exasperated smile.
“Lord Cregan, I did not mean to imply I believe that libraries were not your preferred place to spend your time, only that I thought you would be joining the other men on their hunt.”
He glances out the window towards the Kingswood. ���And I would think you would be taking tea or sewing with the other ladies.”
You have been caught.
“Ah yes, well, as you know, Prince Aemond is to return today and Princess Helaena asked me to keep watch. She loves her brother very much but has to entertain the other ladies so could not watch for him herself.”
You pray Helaena will forgive you for involving her in a lie.
Cregan hums low in his throat and his eyes flicker to you, picking you apart. “Did she now?”
You nod, not trusting your own voice.
“The prince is lucky to have such a vision of beauty to return home to.” He says, running his eyes down your form, drinking in every detail with something akin to reverence? Though you know you must be seeing things. Cregan Stark would not look at you in such a way, there is no reason to.
“Princess Helaena is quite beautiful.” You agree, trying to keep an air of propriety around you even as your mind screams at you to flee for fear you will say something utterly stupid.
Cregan reaches out, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for a moment caressing your cheek. “Aye, but she is not who I speak of.”
You? He means you?
You duck your head, cheeks warming once more. “You flatter me.”
He shifts forward, invading your space, the scent of forest air and woodsmoke filling your nostrils. “Is it flattery if it is true?” He is so close, still a respectable distance but close enough that you can reach out and touch him, can feel the warmth radiating from his skin.
“I believe that is a question for the maesters.” You tease lightly, your heart pounding in your chest.
“You are a smart girl, little fox, I am sure you can figure it out.” He teases back, a glimmer in his eyes that excites you.
No one teases you; no one jests or challenges you like Cregan does. You assume it is because they all know Prince Aemond has claim on you, or because you are a lady, but you are educated, and strong-willed, you enjoy a good challenge. You enjoy Cregan speaking to you like an equal.
“Truth is relative, as they say.” You offer, cocking your head innocently, barely able to keep a smile off your face.
“Aye, some say. Though your beauty is truth, relative or not. Surely you must know that.” He counters.
“Vanity is not a virtue.” You say, meeting his gaze. The storm gray of them has softened to a dove gray, mirth dancing within them.
“Neither is lying and yet…”
“Are you accusing me of lying, Lord Cregan?” You gasp in mock outrage.
“About knowing that your beauty is what every man dreams of returning home to? Yes.” He says, his tone light and blithe, but his words, and the way his eyes darken for a moment? It takes your breath away.
“Your beauty, little fox, is one that haunts men’s dreams, that keeps them fighting when they are the last standing. That they keep in their mind as they clash swords, traverse through snow and sea.” He continues, holding your gaze, voice no longer light, but heavy with intent and promise. “It is a beauty one wishes to see the moment they return home before all else, or any others. A beauty that should be admired in all lights and shadows. The setting of the sun and its rising, the summer days and winter nights, one to be cherished.”
You break away from his gaze, a twinge of sadness in your chest. Aemond has never spoken to you in such a way, he has waxed poetic about your beauty, flattered you, lavished you with sweet words, but it has never felt the same as Cregan’s did now. Guilt replaces the sadness, and you toy with the edge of your sleeves. You should not be engaging with Cregan in this way, it was not right, even if it made you feel…something. “You are too kind, My Lord.”
Cregan reaches for you, breaching what was proper, and taking your hand in his. They are so much larger than yours, so warm, so gentle. “Have I spoken out of turn?”
“No, no, I am just—I am a maiden of the South, Lord Stark, I am not used to such forwardness from a man I am not courting with.”
“Honesty, it is honesty, though I apologize for my forwardness.” Cregan says, subconsciously stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.
“Either way, I am not used to it.” You say heart calming with each stroke of his calloused thumb.
Cregan’s brows furrow. “I have heard tales of—the other noblemen, they speak highly of you. Of your beauty, your kindness, your wit, are they all struck dumb by your very being, is that why no one has praised you as you deserve?”
You feel you should say something about Aemond, but what could you truly say? There is no formal betrothal in place, he has not publicly staked his claim beyond a possessiveness that those who spent enough time in court could see. But nothing is ever outwardly stated.
You go to speak, but Cregan stops you. “My apologies, I should not have asked such a thing, how are you to know what lies within the minds of man?”
“You are correct, I do not know their minds.” You say instead and bury down any explanation involving Aemond and his invisible claim.
A dragon roar fills the air, the window vibrates with the force of the sound, and your eyes shoot back to the window. Prince Aemond is home.
“Or they fear the mind of one man and thus hold their tongues.” Cregan says, releasing your hand.
“The prince? I—he—we…it is not—” You cannot get the words out fast enough.
“I will take my leave.” He says, remaining for a moment searching your face until it seemed he had found what he is looking for, and left.
You watch him go, admiring the strength in his stride, when he turns back, a strange look in his eyes. “At the feast tonight, might I have a dance?” He asks.
“With me?” Your heart is pounding against your chest.
He nods.
Footsteps rush by the open library door, and you can hear Princess Helaena calling out to Prince Aemond.
You stand, smoothing out your skirts with shaky hands, why did he make you so nervous? Or is not nerves, but excitement? “Of course, Lord Cregan, I would be honored.”
“I will hold you to that.” Cregan smile, then he disappears down the hall, and you are left alone to hurry after the princess.
Aemond does not call for you until hours after he has returned. When you knock on the door to his chambers, dressed already for the feast, he bids you to enter in a soft voice, exhaustion tinging each word.
You hurry to his side, clasping one hand between your own. “My Prince, I cannot tell you how happy I am that you have returned safely.”
He uses his free hand to cup your cheek, that half smile, half smirk he wears so well on his well sculpted face. “I was only gone for a mere moon, and I was never in any danger, did you doubt your Prince, ñuha nūmio?”
“No, of course not, but…you would not tell me where you were going, no one would.” You say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
“That is simply because it was not information you needed.” He says, brushing the pad of his thumb across your lips.
“But if I am to be your wife, would it not be prudent if I were to know where my husband is?”
Aemond’s eye, a brilliant amethyst, hardens, then he looks away and sighs. “Lady y/h/n I have told you patience is a virtue, and your virtue is what I adore most.”
You bite your lip, internally chastising yourself. You know better than to rush him. “My apologies.”
Aemond frees your bottom lip from between your teeth and brushes his lips across your forehead. “Do not take my words so harshly, your eagerness is quite endearing, and I to wish for us to be wed, but it is not yet time.”
You lean into his touch, “I understand.”
“How have you been amusing yourself while I was away, ñuha nūmio? Did anything exciting happen?” Aemond asks, his thumb resting beside the corner of your lip.
“Not much, it seems you had taken all the excitement with you. Though as you know Lord Stark’s arrival has caused quite a stir and now two moons later still is. Many ladies are jockeying for the position of Lady of the North.” You tell him, giggling at the memory of some of your friends’ actions.
“But not you?” Aemond asked, his tone making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
“No, I am yours, why would I wish to be Lady of the North?” You reassured him, brushing back a lock of silver hair from his face.
For a moment, you are struck with the feel of Cregan’s fingertips, rough and calloused but gentle against your skin. The warmth of his skin, the softness of his gaze, the earnestness of his words. What was he looking for when he stared into your eyes, when he took in every detail of your face?
“If you are too distracted, you may leave, My Lady.” Aemond says, the irritation in his voice drawing you from your thoughts.
“No, no, I am not, I am just so happy you have returned.”
Aemond hums in acknowledgement, dressed in his feast finery as well. “I have missed you.”
Your heart flutters. “I have missed you as well.”
He releases your chin to trail his fingers down the column of your neck. His cool touch causes goosebumps to follow in his wake, and he dips his head low to press his lips to your cheek, then begins to follow his fingers with his lips. “I have missed you, your voice, your smiles, your touch.”
You shiver in response, grabbing onto his doublet.
“Do not touch, you will wrinkle the fabric.” He warns, even as his hands grip your waist.
You remove your hands, clasping them behind your back.
“I will not be able to dance with you tonight, mother has brought another girl for me to try and charm.” He says, into your skin, his silver hair brushing against your exposed décolletage.
Your heart sinks. “Not even one dance?”
Aemond sighs and presses a final kiss to the hollow of your throat. “You know I detest it as much as you do, but it is my duty.”
You nod, blinking back the tears that threaten to appear on your waterline.
He smooths down your hair and turns you towards the door. “I will try to find time for one dance, but I cannot make any promises.”
His words lift your spirits, and you smile at him. “Thank you, Aemond.”
“Prince Aemond, we have guests tonight.” He reminds you, then he shuts the door, and you hurry back to your chambers.
The Great Hall is decorated beautifully, and you sit at your table with the other ladies of Helaena’s circle. A wine glass in hand as you watch Aemond dance with Cerelle Peake, her brown hair pinned up with a net of gold and sapphires, her umber gown flowing beautifully as she twirled.
“Come now, y/n, you will never be asked to dance with such a scowl.” Johanna Swyft says, poking your cheek goodnaturedly.
“No, she will never be asked to dance because the prince glares at anyone who tries.” Mina Redwyne says, clinking her glass against yours in silent sympathy.
Johanna shoots her a look. “Do keep your voice down, Mina.”
You take a long drink from your glass, emptying it, then setting it down, scanning the crowd for another servant. “Perhaps I do not wish to dance.”
“I am crushed to hear that Lady y/n.” Cregan’s presence makes every lady at your table sit up straight, and you turn to face him.
“Lord Stark.” You say, bowing your head in his direction.
He holds out a hand, and you remember how it nice felt, the phantom warmth still lingering. “I do believe you agreed to a dance, earlier today?”
“Lucky.” Mina hisses, as Johanna juts her elbow into your side to prod you up and out of your seat.
You stand, and take his hand, trying to ignore the twinge of pain in your side. “I did.”
Cregan leads you to the dance floor, and you can hear your friends giggling behind you, much to your utter embarrassment.
“Your friends seem quite encouraging.” Cregan says, barely holding back a laugh.
“When they learned I have no sisters, they decided that they would act as such, apparently that means acting in a most embarrassing way.” You say, falling into the rhythm of the dance.
“I knew you had brothers, but I did not know you were the only daughter, that must make you very precious in your father’s eyes.” Cregan ventures, his large, warm hand pressed to yours as you circle each other.
“I would like to think so.” You smile, your heart aches for a moment with homesickness. “He could not attend this feast, he is too ill to travel, my eldest brother is here on his behalf, accompanied by my second-eldest brother who is here to drink and presumably enjoy the Silk Streets.”
“I never had a taste for brothels.”
“Nor I.”
Cregan smiles and twirls you. “I thought not, for I have heard you are far too virtuous.”
You shrug. “It is more, I do not wish to spend the coin.”
Shock flashes across his face then he laughs, repeating your words quietly with a chuckle, and as you are spun back into his arms you cannot help but laugh as well.
“You are clever, little fox, I will miss you when I return home.” He says, his eyes searching you once more.
Your heart stops, and you trip over your feet. “You are leaving?”
His grip on you tightens as he helps you right yourself. “Aye, I have here for two moons, that is far too long, my people need me.”
You do not want him to leave, you will miss him dearly, his laugh, his expressions, his stories. You will miss the walks you had taken together, the discussions that ran late into the night, just outside your chambers, the men standing guard pretending they were not listening. The way he presented you with the pelts of animals he had hunted, regaling you with the tale of how he felled it. Who would challenge you now, who would make you laugh, would listen to your words, and respond as if you were an equal, as if your sex did not diminish your intelligence?
“When will you leave?” You ask, unable to keep your voice steady, so you spin away from him to give yourself a moment to smother your emotions.
Cregan pulls you back into his arms, trapping you with his steady gaze. “In a few days time.”
“Oh…” You manage to choke out, swallowing hard, your eyes on your feet.
“I have been meaning to tell you, there just never seemed to be a good time.” Cregan says sheepishly.
You nod, still staring at the floor. “Well, I will miss you.”
“I will miss you too, y/n,” he says softly, then he slips a finger under your chin and lifts it gently. “In all lights, in all seasons.”
Tears blur your vision, and you hastily blink them away, not even noticing he has said only your given name, no title attached. Cregan’s warm thumb catches any stray tears that fall, and you lean into his touch, desperate for more of that something he had made you feel before. That something you realize he was always making you feel, and that he is making you feel right now, though it is tinged with grief. “Cregan, I—”
“Lady y/h/n, I believe I promised you a dance.” Aemond’s voice is steel, ice, the frigid fear that ran through the veins of Vhagar’s victim, and you hurriedly wipe away any remaining tears plastering on a false smile, before you turn, Cregan’s other hand still on your waist.
You drop into a curtsy. “My Prince, that you did.”
Cregan’s hand lingers, and your heart lurches in your chest when the warmth of it is finally removed.
Another song has begun to play, one you love dancing with Aemond to. It allows for close movements and lingering touches that you always long for with him.
“I thought you did not wish to be the Lady of the North.” He says, his eyes picking you apart as Cregan’s did but there is a cold methodical feel to it that makes you feel utterly and horribly exposed.
“He was merely being kind, no one else had asked me to dance.” You protest, falling into the rhythm as you had before.
“No one else should, you are mine.” Aemond say, spinning you out, and then back in.
His hands burn through your gown, your skin, meeting bone, and before you would have loved it, relished the feeling, but now you feel they are too hot, your skin prickles uncomfortably.
“I like to dance; I do not get to dance when you are occupied, and you are often occupied.” You say quietly, your head bowed ever so slightly.
“I had them play your favorite song, as a reward for your patience.” He says, ignoring your words. “Do you like it?”
“I do, thank you.” You smile and raise your head, hoping to catch his eye and find it brimming with affection. That would soothe your wounded heart, would banish the grief you feel at Cregan leaving.
Instead, his eye is elsewhere, you follow its gaze to see it land on the Peake girl. You do not blame her, do not hate her, though your blood turns to fire in your veins, and you brace yourself for what you are going to say next.
“When are we going to be wed, I have been patient for many years, and you never tell me when my patience will be able to end.” You say, holding your chin high. You are not a Peake, but you still have pride.
His eye flicker back to you, his grip tightening. “Are you truly asking this now?”
“Yes. Yes, I am, because I am tired of waiting, tired of watching as you charm others, tired of being shunted to the side because even though you will not claim me, no one else is allowed to.” You can no longer keep your emotions contained. “I want to be happy Aemond, I want to be happy with you, but I am not happy.”
“Not everything is about your happiness, Lady y/h/n.” Aemond snaps.
You reel back as if you have been struck. “I did not say it was. You have been the one saying you wished to marry me, promising me you would tell the whole of the realm how deeply you care for me. I have done nothing else but dote on you and be patient.”
Guilt flashes across his face, and he reaches for you, but you push his hands away. “It is not so simple.”
“Do you see my face in your dreams, does it keep you fighting, keep you marching on, am I the first person you wish to see when you return home, do you wish to see me in all lights, in all seasons?” You throw Cregan’s words in Aemond’s face and wait for a response.
Aemond laughs, taking your hands, and bringing you back into the dance. “You have picked up a new book of poetry, I see.”
You cannot find it in yourself to be angry, the shock settling in, muffling everything until it is as if you are floating underwater. The rest of the night passes that way, you go through the motions, avoiding Cregan, your friends, shooting you concerned looks.
Then the feast ends, guards escort those too drunk to find their chambers, all others dispersing to their places for the night, or into Fleabottom for more revelry.
You try to sleep, but it will not come, Cregan and Aemond’s words echoing in your sleepless mind, until finally you throw off your blankets and wrap a robe around your nightshift.
You creep through the halls, no true direction in mind, letting your feet take you where they wished, when a flicker of umber catches your eye. Pressing yourself behind a pillar, you wait a moment then peek out.
“Lord Stark, might I be allowed to enter?” Cerelle Peake’s voice is soft, as was required for the late hours.
“Lady Peake, might I ask why you wish to enter my chambers?” Cregan asks, his words thick with sleep. His hair is loose, his night shift exposing his broad chest.
“I thought perhaps you might enjoy some company.” She says, as she takes a step towards him, moving to run a finger down his chest.
Cregan catches her hand and gently returns it to her side. “I do not wish for your company, Lady Peake. Please return to your chambers quietly, and I will not speak with your father about this.”
Cerelle scoffs and turns on her heel, storming down the hallway. You wait until Cregan’s door closed then follow her.
Halfway there, you know where she was going, you have walked these halls many times. Not wanting to further your own pain, you turn back to your own chambers, but your feet disobey you, and you find yourself in front of Cregan’s door.
You knock before you could stop yourself and the door swing open, a tired and angry Cregan standing before you. “Lady Peake, I do not need any comp—” His words die on his lips as he realizes it was you and not Cerelle. “Y/N?”
“All those things you said, about my beauty, about me, did you mean them? Truly?” Tears prick at the backs of your eyes, your chest tight, your bottom lip trembling.
Cregan rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Do not tell me you woke me only to hear more flattery.”
A sob escapes your lips. “I thought you said it was truth, not flattery.”
Cregan snaps awake, pulling you into his arms. “Little fox, I am sorry, I was half asleep, yes, yes, it is truth.”
You cling to him, gripping his night shirt, your face buried in his chest as you sob, every fear, every pain spilling out into his warm embrace. “Tell me you meant it, that you see me in your dreams, that you want me, in all lights, all seasons, that I am not destined to wait forever for someone to love me.”
“I love you, y/n, I love you, you do not need to wait, I will tell you as many times as you desire. I meant it, all of it, you haunt my dreams, you plague my waking thoughts, I want you in at any time, in any manner, or light, or moment I can have you.” He says, his voice is steady, and you can feel the vibrations of it deep in his chest, alongside the sound of his beating heart.
“I want to go with you to Winterfell, I want to be your Lady of the North, or even just your mistress if my house is not a good enough match, Cregan I do not care. I love you and all I care about is that we are not parted, that we are never parted, I do not think I will be able to breathe if we are parted.” You confess, looking up at him afraid to see what you saw in Aemond’s eye.
Cregan cups your face and kisses you, the taste of honeyed ale on his tongue, his hands warm as he keeps you close, using his foot to kick the door closed so he can press you against it.
Now in the safety of his chambers he breaks the kiss, your breaths intermingling. “You will not be a mistress, you will be my wife, none will come before you.”
“Will you tell your people, will they know?” You ask, your lips brushing against his with each word.
“I will wake the whole Red Keep to announce it now if you wish.” He says, his forehead resting against yours.
You reconnect your lips with his, his stubble brushing against your skin, but you pay it no mind, letting Cregan devour you, his hands moving into your hair, as you loop your arms around his neck, keeping him close.
He groans against you, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, delving in when you part them and exploring every inch of you. “My little fox, my y/n, my wife, my beautiful, clever wife.” He presses the words into your skin, heated lips trailing down to your pulse point.
“Husband.” You sigh, tilting your neck further exposing yourself to him, his teeth sinking into the skin claiming you as his own.
“Say it again for me, my wife, tell me who I am.” He breaths, sucking, and nipping at your neck, returning to darken the marks between creating new ones.
“You, Cregan, my husband.” You say, eyes snapping open when he releases you and stalks over to the window.
He threw it open and stuck his head out, shouting. “Y/N Y/H/N, is to be my wife.”
You rush forward and pull him from the window with a scandalized giggle. “Cregan it is the middle of the night.”
“Then at the very least a few guards heard.” He says, pulling you close and kissing you again, in full view of the window, the moon, anyone else who might look up, and it is exactly as you want it.
I lied in the comments imma do a part two I’ve given into the peer pressure stay tuned my loves!!!
HOTD taglist: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhh, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon, @boofy1998, @kravitzwhore, @caribbeangel, @krispold, @issshh, @afro-hispwriter, @ryswritingrecord, @prettykinkysoul, @elissanatok, @sahvlren, @its-sam-allgood, @happinessinthbeing, @8e-h-e8, @feyres-fireheart, @just-emmaaaa, @crazylokonugget, @hedahobbit98, @devils-blackrose, @mercedesdecorazon, @snh96, @imjustboredso, @izzicle, @hiatuswhore, @aslanvez, @devils-blackrose, @yentroucnagol, @queenofshinigamis, @partyposion00, @cryptidsrcool, @jennifer0305
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alexias-putellas · 1 day
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girlfriend // l.wälti x reader
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l.wälti x reader
based on this request! ft an oc so apologies if your name is actually ava 😅😅 it’s not a long one but i wanted to get something out for you all since i’m feeling a little better <3
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you scowled into your glass, rolling your eyes at beth’s pathetic attempt at concealing her laughter. leah’s hand was on lia’s arm again and when the blonde smirked at you, you had half a mind to throw your glass at her stupid face.
“you wouldn’t feel like this if you just asked her out.” beth said and you whipped your head around to look at her.
“why would i ask her out?”
”why would you ask her out?” beth scoffed and you were almost offended at how stupid she made you sound. “maybe because you fancy her and she fancies you.”
“yeah,” you snorted, motioning to lia and leah again. “sure looks like it.”
“leah’s just pissing you off, you know that nothing’s going on with them.”
you rolled your eyes again. beth was right but that didn’t mean you had to like it. you’d seen the speculation from fans and whilst most of it was funny, some of it did bother you.
“here,” steph shoved a different drink into your hand as she dropped into the seat next to yours. “that’ll cheer you up.”
“ugh, i am not in a mood!”
both beth and steph gave you a look and you sighed, slumping back into your seat. suddenly drinking with the girls was a terrible idea. even more so when you looked back up to see lia and leah mere inches from each other.
“you know what? i think i’m gonna go,” you stood, gathering your things quickly, waving off the attempts at getting you to stay. “no, honestly, i’m pretty tired. i’ll see you both at training.”
you somehow managed to escape the pub without any more of a fuss and decided to forego your usual after-drinking meal and head straight home, your appetite suddenly lost.
ᡣ𐭩
how the girls managed to get you back into a pub a few days later you didn’t know. you must’ve said no a million times but yet there you were, glaring daggers at leah once again. who in your opinion was sitting far too close to lia. with a heaved sigh, you made your way over to the bar.
“the other one is a lot nicer.” someone said next to you and you hummed in confusion, glancing down at your drink before turning to them.
you found yourself face to face with a fairly attractive girl who couldn’t have been much older than you and you blushed under her intense gaze. “i’ve never actually tried it.”
“well we can’t have that,” she grinned at you before waving down a bartender. “i’m ava by the way.”
you just about managed to splutter out your own name before she was handing you a bottle, hitting the bottom of it slightly to encourage you to drink it.
she wasn’t wrong about the flavour. the one she’d ordered was a lot nice than the one you chose and you were quick to let her know.
had you been paying attention to your incredibly nosy teammates, you’d have noticed the way steph and beth were nudging each other and doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that they were talking about you. of course that caught the attention of your other teammates and soon you had an audience.
but lia wasn’t happy. she watched with a frown as you laughed at something the stranger said, your head falling back as you gripped onto the bar so you wouldn’t fall.
the brunette’s eyes were stuck on the two of you and she grew a little giddy when it looked like the conversation had ended but for some reason you were bringing the stranger over to the table.
“hey guys, this is ava,” you said, guiding the stranger—ava to the only spare seats. “she’s actually a huge fan.”
you and ava ended up in the seats between lia and jen and much to the swiss woman’s dismay, ava was as kind and funny as she was pretty. and the other girls seemed to really like her.
ava was answering one of jordan’s questions when you felt something brush against your thigh. you glanced down, seeing lia’s hand resting on your chair.
it wasn’t long before it founds its way onto your thigh. if ava noticed she didn’t say anything.
after a few more drinks, one of the girls suggested that you all relocated to the club down the road. of course nobody had objections and as soon as you’d entered the building, you were being pulled up to dance by katie and you were quick to grab ava’s wrist, the three of you heading over to the crowded dance floor.
you briefly noticed some of the other girls dotted around but katie was twirling you before you could do anything.
you were thankful that the lights were able to hide your flushed face as ava caught you in her arms. you watched as she glanced behind her, her grip loosening ever so slightly. if you hadn’t had that last drink, you probably would’ve asked her what was wrong. but leah was handing you a shot and all was forgotten.
for a while anyway.
you soon found yourself dragging ava into the toilets and whilst you weren’t expecting anything to happen, you were still a little disappointed that nothing did.
“i think i’m gonna go.” ava said loudly as you washed your hands, looking at her with furrowed brows.
“why?”
“your girlfriend is scary.”
“lia’s not my girlfriend.”
ava’s eyebrow quirked and you felt your face flush again, the clear lights doing nothing in your favour. “funny that you knew who i was talking about.”
“seriously though, she’s not.”
“could’ve fooled me,” ava shrugged. “it’s clear that she wants to be and i’m guessing you feel the same.”
“oh my—what is happening right now?” you whispered to yourself, quickly drying your hands on your dress. “i thought we were going to hook up but now you’re trying to hook me up with lia.”
there was a flash of something on ava’s face but you caught it, eyes narrowing as she laughed somewhat nervously. “stranger things have happened in this club i imagine.”
“yeah, no—which one of them put you up to this?”
ava sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “leah and beth.”
“both of them? can’t say i’m surprised,” you shook your head. “well ava, it’s been a pleasure to meet you anyway and i’ve actually had a really good night.”
“me too,” ava nodded in agreement whilst glancing at the door behind you. “now go get your girl.”
whilst that was something you wanted to do, part of you also wanted to see just how far your friends would go to get you and lia together.
you waved ava off and managed to find the girls, frowning when they appeared to be gathering their stuff to leave. you could hear katie calling them boring as she downed the rest of her drink.
her arm was quickly thrown around your shoulder and you were yanked into her side. this didn’t go unnoticed by lia.
“oh my god, katie, you’re so heavy get off!” you whined as you somehow made it outside, desperately glancing at the other girls for help. “you’re not even that drunk, get off!”
katie laughed as you struggled to push her off but eventually managed it. you glared at her, shoving her forward and ignoring the quip of be careful from beth.
you noticed that lia wasn’t there and glanced behind you to see her walking slowly, head facing the ground. you stood still, waiting until she was near you before speaking. “hey are you okay?”
lia looked up like a deer caught in headlights as she registered that it was you. in your head, you were so lost in the thought of telling her how you felt that you hadn’t noticed her standing right in front of you until her lips were on yours.
you melted into the kiss, stomach fluttering as her thumbs gently rubbed along the skin of your cheeks. when lia pulled away, you frowned a little, not ready for the moment to end just yet.
“why haven’t we done that before?” lia asked quietly.
“i’m not sure,” you whispered, glancing down at her lips. “but we should definitely do it again. and maybe some more tomorrow.”
and when lia’s lips met yours for another kiss, you made a mental note to profusely thank beth and leah for their annoyingly useful nosiness.
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You extracted yourself from the boring conversation about substitutes for guacamole using dried beans with a forced smile and a muttered "excuse me". Another cocktail party in the apocalypse... These Alexandrians were fucking clueless.
Daryl was standing in the corner with a beer in his hand looking supremely uncomfortable and unapproachable. You wandered over and leaned up against the wall next to him. "Well, this is... something..." you said.
"Mmm," he hummed, watching you take a deep drink from your beer.
You glanced over at him again and smiled at the shine in his clean hair and the nice clothes he'd pulled on for the occasion of this stupid party. "You look really nice," you said.
He ducked his head and twirled the glass bottle in his hands nervously. "Nah... just showered for once," he growled.
"I get to decide if you look nice. And you do. Really," you said, catching his blue eyes again.
"Thanks," he murmured. "Ya look—well... way better than me," he drawled, ducking his head again. You smiled at his apparent shyness. "Think I might just slip outta here soon, though. Not like anybody would notice..."
"Oh, no you don't!" you said hurriedly. You slipped your arm through his and moved into him more closely. "If I have to suffer through this nonsense, then so do you," you laughed.
He glanced over at you, surprised by your closeness and touch. He gulped. "If ya keep standin' like this with me, people are gonna think—" he broke off, his face flushing.
"Think what?" you asked, smiling up at him, your eyes bright.
"Think we're—ya know..."
"Together?" you suggested softly.
He chewed on his bottom lip. "Mhm," he hummed.
You cocked an eyebrow up at him. "Is that a problem for you? You don't want to be seen with me?" you joked.
"What? No—I—"
"I'm kidding, Daryl. Let people think whatever they want. You're mine," you laughed. "At least for tonight."
Daryl gulped nervously. "Alrigh'... I ain't gonna argue with that..."
Prompt: "Oh no you don't! If I have to suffer through this nonsense then so do you!"
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18+ ghoap x fem!reader
soap with a pretty bird back at home who he facetimes all the time bc they just miss each other so much. they’re so clingy for each other.
you’re always relaxing when you call him. in a t-shirt and sweatpants and are either sitting on the couch with a warm lamp on beside you or laying in bed with only the fairy lights on. you’re always giggling and smiling and making sure to keep your entire face within frame so that johnny can see all of you.
and you know that his lieutenant is always somewhere beside him even if johnny denies it, but you know. because the two of you have spoken about it.
“i showed ghost a pic of you.” he spoke one night after the two of you had finished some…salacious activities.
you immediately lifted your head up from where it was laying on his chest, “which one did you show him?”
“don’t get upset.”
you side-eyed him instantly, “john…” you smacked him lightly, “which oneeee?”
after a bit of pestering, he showed you. it was a mirror pic of you in some oversized sweatpants and a thin tank top. your hair was tied back and you were brushing your teeth. it was a silly pic, one meant only for him.
“oh my god, mactavish I can’t believe you!”
“wai’ bonnie lemme explain.”
you were pretty sure you were bright red, trying to hide your face in your hands, but johnny wasn’t letting you.
gripping your wrists, he pushed them both besides your head, getting between your legs, forcing them open, “he loved it.”
your mouth fell open, “johnny how the fu-! HOW?! I look like shit! my face is greasy and I’m pretty sure I hadn’t showered that day when I sent that picture!”
he chucked and pecked your nose, cheeks, and finally your lips, “you weren’t there to see his face. fuck lass, he was exactly like you are now, ears red and all doe-eyed.”
you felt him hardening again, rubbing up against your already soaked cunt, before slipping in with ease, “gonna bring him home. have him fuck this pretty pussy. show him how much of a good girl you are.”
with that in mind, you sometimes say, and do, some out-of-pocket stuff. one time you were complaining to your boyfriend how the birth control pill was making your tits sore and how much bigger they were getting.
“look!” you turned on your nightlight and faced it, giving your boyfriend, and subsequently ghost, an unfiltered view of your tits through your nightie. the low cut helped accentuate them.
your grin was hidden off camera was you palmed one of them and whined, putting on a show for both men, “they’re so swollen babe. i wish you were here to massage them.”
“steamin’ jezus bonnie.”
you could hear a choked off groan somewhere in the background. bingo.
“you’re coming home soon, right baby?” you moved the camera back to your face, pouting and batting your lashes.
“fuck yes. coming home real soon, I promise.”
and it was sometime past three in the morning when he got home a few days later. you were already sleeping, the heat during the summer nights was enough to have the a/c on blast, and wearing just a cropped tank top and a thong to bed.
the sound of the unit running made it easier for both soap and ghost to make their way to your shared room. there you laid on your side, facing away from the door. thin sheets had been kicked off and were now tangled up around your thighs, your bare ass was in full display. the string of your thong tucked nicely between your perky cheeks.
both men swallowed their groans, soap turning to the taller man and elbowing him softly, “better than a phone call, eh l.t.?”
ghost swallowed roughly, eyes never leaving your moonlit body, “way fuckin’ betta’ sergeant.”
and then both men pounced. they’d both requested extended leave, and they planned on using all of it buried deep inside you.
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mountttmase · 2 days
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Don’t Get Caught
Note - lil bit of cheeky dad Mase to round off our Monday. I hope you’re all good and I hope you enjoy this 🩷 smut has not been smutting for me in a while so let’s see 😂 feedback would be appreciated 😘
Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader
Word count - 3k
Warnings - smut
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‘So it’s just a shed?’
‘No Mason, it’s not just a shed’ Declan huffed. Annoyed by Mason downplaying his new purchase that he was proudly showing the pair of you around. Not that you could see much as it was dark outside and for the most part his new summer house was just an empty shell bar some cupboards. ‘I’ve got someone coming tomorrow to wire the electrics so the lights work, then I’m getting a tv installed, a mini fridge, like you name and I’ll probably have it, it’s gonna be immense’
‘What does Lauren think of all this?’ You asked, shining your torch round so you could see more of the space but it really was a work in progress right now.
‘She’ll have her section too, don’t worry. And I’m getting her one of those outdoor sofa set things she’s always wanted to go by the hot tub outside, plus a new swing for Jude. They’ll love it’
You were about to ask another question when his phone began to ring, Lauren’s photo flashing up on the screen but the more she spoke the more displeased his face became until he was hanging up with a huff.
‘Ah for fucks sake, Madders has thrown up in the guest room, I need to go and kick his arse’ he sighed, his hand running over his face like he didn’t want to deal with it and you couldn’t say you didn’t blame him as you tried to hold in a laugh.
‘Sounds grim’ Mason chuckled, making his way over to you in the dark and holding you at your waist. ‘We’ll be back in soon, yeah? I just wanna have a look round a bit more’
‘Yeah yeah take your time, I’ll see you inside later’ Dec mumbled before leaving the pair of you alone. Watching him trudge back to the house with his shoulders slumped before you turned to Mason who you could just about make out in the dark.
‘Look round what, Mason? It’s a shed with a counter and a few cupboards’ you asked, turning in his grip and resting your hands on his chest as he pulled you closer and even in the dark you could see his pretty smile.
‘I don’t think Dec would be too happy if he heard you say that’ He laughed and you rolled your eyes playfully. ‘What do you think anyway? Would you like a summer house?’
‘Maybe’ you shrugged. Trying to imagine something similar in your own garden. ‘Would be fun to have movie nights with Ollie in something like this, like we could get blankets and those big bean bags things. Maybe some nice fairy lights so we can get all cozy’
‘You could also use it as somewhere when you need some time away from the boys’ he winked, pulling away from you as he took a better look around and it clicked in your brain that what he meant by it.
‘Oh I see, you just want it for you’ you laughed and he knew he’d been caught out as you heard him try to contain his giggles. ‘Come on, what would you have in here then?’
‘Well I’d get a tv definitely, and I like the idea of a mini fridge…’ Mason started but you didn’t listen to the rest of it. The thought of the three of you all snuggled under a blanket in something similar in your own home made your heart thump and the need to check Ollie was okay washed over you.
Ollie was at home with Lewis, the latter staying for a few days as he had a few appointments with Mason he needed to plan and it was always easier to do it when they were together rather than over the phone. Thankfully he was more than happy to look after Ollie for the evening so you and Mason could go to the joint birthday party that Dec was throwing at his house for the pair of them.
Lewis hadn’t texted and he was under strict instructions not to unless there was an emergency so the pair of you could have some time out, but you missed your little boy and you needed to check on him. Your finger hovering over the call button but before you could press it you felt Masons hands at your waist again.
‘Are you even listening to me?’ He laughed, shaking you slightly until you looked at him and you could tell from the look in his eye he knew what you were doing.
‘Sorry Mase’ you sighed, holding your phone to your chest as he pulled you closer. ‘I just wanted to check in and make sure Ollie is alright’
‘He’s probably asleep baby, Lewis knows what he’s doing’
‘I know, I just wanted to be sure’
‘Hand it over’ he smirked, laying his palm out flat for you to put your phone into but you just shook your head and held it closer to your chest.
‘No Mase it’s fine, I’ll keep it away’
‘Why don’t you turn it off?’
‘Yeah Mase, real sensible’ you laughed, rolling your eyes as you put it back in your bag as Mason placed a kiss on your forehead.
‘Come on, Ollie is fine. I know it’s weird being without him but why don’t we take our minds off it a bit?’ He shrugged, not picking up on the cheeky tone to his voice at the end but you were curious about what he was going to suggest.
‘How?’
‘You wanna play a game?’ He asked, backing you up against the cupboards just behind you and you let him do it until you couldn't move anymore. Your bum hitting the top of the counter and you looked up at him curiously.
‘Depends, what did you have in mind?’
‘A little one I like to call, don’t get caught’ he whispered whilst hiking you up to sit on the counter by your thighs. ‘Never played it before but I thought it might be fun’ he smiled as he squeezed your thighs. ‘I’ve been thinking about it all day’
‘Mason’ you warned but he just smiled and kissed you heavily. Knowing he pretty much always got his way in situations like this and your resolve would crumble soon enough.
‘Come on baby, I know you want to’ he teased before kissing you again and when Mason kissed you like this you knew exactly what it meant. ‘I haven't had you in days and I won’t be able to again for a while’
He was right. He’d been away for a few days for a game and tomorrow he’d be off again for a training camp so tonight was really the only time you had to be physical. You just thought it would come later on when the pair of you were in bed not outside in the middle of Decs new purchase.
‘You know I’ll make it worth your while, baby’ he whispered. Lips ghosting your jaw before he playfully bit your earlobe and when his kisses started to travel down your neck you felt your body turn to jelly.
‘Won’t everyone be able to see?’ You asked, looking towards the floor to ceiling sliding glass doors that were just to the right of you and you gulped nervously.
‘We can barely see each other, gorgeous. Don't worry I won’t let anyone see you, you’re for my eyes only yeah?’
‘Okay’ you whispered. Letting him kiss you again as you gave into his desires as in this moment you wanted him just as much.
‘I’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll forget your own name, pretty girl’ he whispered against your lips and even though his sentiment made you smile you knew he meant it. When Mason had had a bit to drink his mouth tended to run away with him and when you were being intimate it was no different. This version of Mason liked to talk you through it. To pull the strings and tease you into oblivion until you were a mess beneath him and you knew if he got his way tonight you’d be in for a wild ride
Before you knew it, you felt his fingers trail over your thighs and under your dress. Gripping your bum so he could pull you forward and rest you just on the edge of the counter but thankfully it wasn’t very wide and you were able to lean back and rest against the wall as his fingers danced over the front of your underwear.
‘You can’t tell me you don’t tell me you don’t want this, you’re dripping for me’ he growled, fingers circling just where you needed them over your underwear and it only took a beat for you to start grinding your hips to meet his movements. ‘See, there we go. You know exactly what to do don’t you?’
You let him tease you a little while longer as he kissed you roughly but soon enough he was finally pushing your dress up higher and gripping the top of your underwear so he could pull them from your legs. The cold air hitting you and making you hiss before you could just about make out him stuffing the black lace into his back pocket.
‘Hands on my shoulders baby, need you to hold on tight yeah?’ He told you, hearing him pull down the zip on his trousers and shuffle his boxers about just enough to free himself and you clenched around nothing in anticipation of what you were about to do.
As soon as you felt his tip pushing against your entrance his lips were on yours. Swallowing your moans as he eased himself into you slowly but you were surprised about how easy it was since there was no foreplay involved and you were just getting straight down to business.
He still took his time though. Moving slowly in and out of you so you could both adjust and the small whimpers and moans falling from both of your lips just egged the other on until your brain was foggy with pleasure.
‘Remember when we first met, you told me you were a good girl’ he spoke against your lips before kissing along your jaw softly. ‘I’m not so sure i believe you anymore’
‘I’m a good girl for you’
‘And only me, right?’ he sighed, resting his forehead on yours as he kept his pace steady. ‘You’re mine, and you’re always gonna be mine’
‘Masey’
‘What is it baby? What does my good girl want?’
‘Harder please’ you whimpered, wanting him to lose control a little bit as you knew he was holding back until you were comfortable but you were ready to have all of him now.
‘Yeah? You think you can take it’ he asked, hands grabbing your wrists so he could tug them away from his shoulders and before you knew it he had your wrists crossed above your head. Holding them together with one hand so they were against the wall whilst his other hand gripped your waist to hold you still. His hips picking up pace just like you wanted him to and you let a loud moan slip past your lips.
‘So fucking innocent but just look at you. Begging for me like this’ he growled, his words making your tummy flip but you couldn’t answer as he moved his hand to rest on your lower stomach before applying a little pressure. You knew he could feel himself inside of you from the profanities that were falling from his lips but the new sensation had rendered you speechless as your eyes rolled back in your head.
‘You love that I’m fucking you in here don’t you, I bet you want the whole world to see’ he grunted. His thumb now moving back to circle over you as he still applied pressure to your tummy and you almost screamed from how good you felt. ‘Want everyone to know how good I give it to you and how good you can take it’
‘Mase, please’ you cried, so overwhelmed with everything he was giving you that they were the only two words you could remember right now but he just carried on snapping his hips back and forth deliciously.
‘Thats it, say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this good’
You felt Masons hand move away from you, giving you a bit of needed relief as you felt like you were about to explode but you saw him reaching into the back pocket of his jeans until he pulled out his phone.
‘Mase? W-what are you doing?’
‘Shhhh it’s okay. I just need it, need to remember what you feel like when I’m away next week’ he stuttered. ‘My eyes only, remember? You trust me?’
‘With everything’ you whispered back. Recording each other was something you’d never done before but you couldn’t deny the idea made your tummy flutter and you did trust him. He was your husband and the father of your child after all but even though this new idea scared you slightly it also thrilled you.
‘Good girl’ he chuckled, smiling as he placed a reassuring kiss to your lips, promising again it was just for him before he pointed the camera down to where the pair of you met started to record himself slipping in and out of you. The whole act turning you on more than you thought it would and the moans that left your lips were sinful.
‘Look at you, can’t get enough can you?’ he whispered, looking up to see his face slightly illuminated from the light on his phone and the first thing you noticed was how wild his eyes were. ‘You feel so unreal’
‘Masey, I’m so close’
‘I know gorgeous’ he whispered. Shutting his phone off so you were both in darkness again and his free hand returned to your waist to hold you still. ‘I need you to hold it for me though yeah? Just for a minute, okay?’
‘Mase’
‘I know I know, I’ll make it worth your while though, I promise’ he told you. Finally lowering your arms back onto his shoulders so he could get a better grip on you and your fingers got lost in his hair as he rested his forehead on yours again. ‘Just wait for me, yeah?’
‘Okay’ you whimpered. Trying your best to hold off but it was difficult and the way Mason was moaning into your mouth didn’t make it any easier.
‘That’s my girl’ he grunted, eventually hiding his face in your neck so he could focus on reaching his high but as the seconds went on you felt like you were about to explode as his lips connected with your sweet spot.
‘Go on baby, let go for me’ he told you, keeping his pace steady until your high rippled through you. Letting him continue to talk in your ear until he was softly biting your shoulder as he came undone himself.
It was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of your breathing mixed together as you caught your breath with your heads hidden away from each other but soon enough he was looking back up at you with a shy smile on his face.
‘That video, I can delete it if you want me too. I just got caught up in the moment I’m not sure what came over me’ he chuckled. Tucking some stray hairs behind your ear before kissing your forehead softly.
‘No it’s okay, you can keep it. As long as it gets hidden somewhere’
‘Really? You don’t mind?’
‘Well I prefer the thought of you watching me rather than random people on a weird website’ you laughed, cupping his jaw so you could place a gentle kiss on his lips before he quickly grabbed his phone again.
‘It’s gone straight into my hidden, yeah?’ He showed you, using the Face ID to show you its new home and you blushed as you caught sight of the multiple pictures of you in your underwear he also kept in that folder. ‘Under lock and key along with all my other naughty photos of you’
‘You’re terrible’ you laughed, your breath catching as he finally slipped out of you but he was quick to kiss you again before he readjusted himself and did his trousers back up.
‘And you are the love of my life. Thank you for playing along’
‘Let’s just hope Dec doesn’t find out what we’ve done’ you laughed, letting him help you down onto the floor as he adjusted your dress but your legs were still shaky for your high and you had to grip Mason’s arm for support. ‘Can I have my underwear back now?’
‘I’ll think about it’ he winked and with one final kiss you made your exit and rejoined the rest of the party.
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Not Our Time
Cheater!Chris!Sturniolo x Fem!Reader
Warning: Wrist grabbing, cussing and that’s it
a/n: this took a while, hope you guys enjoy it
You were tired of it. The lying, sneaking, yelling, arguing. Everything. You found out Chris has been cheating on you 2 weeks ago. You loved Chris so much that you tried your best to see it through, pretending that it wasn’t true. Last week after you found out You went to confront Chris about the whole situation but, he kept brushing it off. Telling you that it was before you guys knew each other and there was nothing to worry about. You knew better than to trust what he said. Chris knew he couldn’t have his cake and eat it too, but he never felt the need to quit his ways.
Right now You and Chris were currently in his room trying to figure out what went wrong in the relationship. Chris’s phone was in your hand, the messages between Chris and some girl displayed on the screen. Tears were threatening to roll down your face, but you needed to be stern to get through to Chris. “Y/n it’s not what you think” Chris said running his fingers through his hair. “Then what the fuck is it Chris, cause it looks like you cheating on me” You said putting your hands up in defense. “I’m not cheating on you that was a long time ago you are just being delusional” Chris says annoyed. “CHRIS DONT FUCKING LIE TO ME, THIS WAS 10 FUCKING MINUTES AGO ” You say yelling. “YOU ARE DOING TO FUCKING MUCH SHES JUST A FRIEND” Chris says yelling back. “Oh she’s just a friend, I didn’t know friends sends nudes to each other” You said sarcastically. “YOU ARE FUCKING CRAZY Y/N” Chris says yelling at you. “IM CRAZY, YO BITCH ASS CHEATING ON ME WITH A REJECTED VICTORIA SECRET MODEL AND IM CRAZY” You say yelling while getting in Chris’s face. “First of all watch your tone with me, I’m not one of your delusional ass friends who you can talk to like that” Chris says grabbing your wrist. “You are a fucking joke Chris” You say yanking your wrist back from his grip. “So what now you’re gonna break up with me” Chris says crossing his arms. “Yes exactly what I’m gonna do” You say laughing a little. “Wait wait you can’t be seriously willing to end this relationship over this” Chris scoffs getting worried. “Well no it’s not just that, you treat me like shit and act like I don’t mean anything to you so why stay” You say passionately. “Baby, don’t leave me I’ll change” Chris says walking towards you grabbing your hand. “That’s what they all say Chris” You scoff. “I mean it I won’t do it again, I’ll cut everyone off, I’ll treat you better, I’ll give you anything you want, I’ll give you more attention just don’t leave me Y/n” Chris says, voice breaking. “Chris I will always love you, but I can’t sit here and let you treat me like this anymore” You say, a tear rolling down your face. “I can do better I can change for you, I just need time” Chris says putting your hand to his face for your to hold. “I can’t sit and wait for you to be a better person Chris that’s something you have to do on your own, we were right for each other once hopefully we can be right for each other again someday, but it’s just not our time” You say crying. “Y/n please give me another chance” Chris says grabbing your waist pulling you closer to him. “I can’t Chris we have to be apart for a while, until you learn how to respect Me and Yourself” You say rubbing Chris’s face with the pad of your thumb. “I love you Y/n” Chris says as his voice breaks. “I love you too” You say before giving Chris a long passionate kiss. “See you around Chris” You say giving him a final kiss on the cheek and walking out of his room, on your way to start a new life without him. Leaving Chris with his regrets
I haven’t posted anything in a while plus I want to start posting more Chris fics 🧎🏾‍♀️
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ta3baee · 2 days
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Jungkook with a chubby girlfriend Pt.2 !
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Pairing : Idol!Jungkook x Chubby!Fem!Reader
Warnings : Nsfw headcanons after the sfw, I will include a cut and another warning though.
Mona’s notes : Edited & proofread by my wife. Minors dni! I’m not responsible for what you consume on the internet. Part one here! Reblogs are very much appreciated <3
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SFW !
• He’s the type to take your insta pictures for you and hype the fuck out of you, I’m talking “Yes mama!”+ “mhmmm look at those hips”+ “those curves my god” + “that’s my sexy lady” and so much more.
• Literally lives for your stomach pudge and your fupa?? Yup, he’s crazy for it.
• He knows you so fucking well that it’d take him just one single look to know how you’re feeling. If he catches you double checking yourself in the mirror with your hand slyly pulling down your shirt to cover yourself, he’d be up on his feet immediately and listing all the beautiful things about you, aka everything.
• We all know he’s basically a gym rat, and what’s a better trope than gym rat bf x chubby gf?? Absolutely nothing. He’d look so big and buff beside you it’d make you feel tiny and protected.
• When you’re out with him and get some looks from both men and women, he’d just stare at them and make them uncomfortable with a hand wrapped around your waist, holding your tummy (that’s how big his hands are).
• He adores it when he sees you cooking in the kitchen wearing a tank top, shorts, and no bra. You’d be minding your own business, and he’d just come up behind you and grab a boob or both and fiddle with it, other times he’d grab your tummy and squish it while whispering good morning and sweet nothings in your ear.
• During his late night lives, he’d go on and on about you, talking about a very simple feature of you in such beautiful detail; it could be a dimple or a specific stretch mark, he’s smitten.
• Imagine him sleepily blabbing about you;
• “my girlfriend is the best”
• “I’m gonna marry her and make her my queen- she’s already my queen, but an upgrade-not that she needs an upgrade”
• lmao, you get it.
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Nsfw below, do not proceed if it’s not to your liking
or if you’re a minor !
NSFW !
• A lil nsfw version of him taking your pics; “You’re making me so hard” + “What if I were to just bend you over right now?”.
• When your looking at yourself in the mirror, he’d come up behind you, hold your tum tum, and whisper dirty shit into ur ear all while he makes you hold eye contact with him.
• When he takes consensual pictures/videos of you riding him, his hand would either be holding your hip or grabbing a handful of your ass.
• Considering the proven fact that Namjoon loves thick girlies, Jungkook would - with your consent send him some of the videos of you riding him and throwing it back at him just to see Joon literally fall apart. He can look, but he can’t touch.
• On that note, when Jungkook has you over, he’d make sure to tap that ass extra hard so you’d be louder, and his bandmates would be forced to listen to you and suffer with their own boners…If only Jungkook would let them hit it…If only.
• This man is filthy rich, so prepare yourself to be spoiled to the max. New sets of lingerie every fucking day, if he can’t choose between two, he’ll buy you both… and an extra one.
• That hot portrait on his wall? That’s you and him; he’s shameless when it comes to you and doesn’t even bother hiding it when he’s on live. He’d simply do anything to show you off, even if it means getting in trouble with management.
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sassycheesecake · 1 day
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"Hello everyone, I’m going ta do a -" The young Miya chef starts to speak into a video camera, his black shirt carrying his restaurant logo over his right pec muscle. His black messy hair looks like he just rolled out of bed ten minutes ago, which he secretly did because Atsumu has shown up at seven in the goddamn morning to remind Osamu of the bet that the younger twin has lost only a month ago.
The Miya twins challenged each other to do the Chubby Bunny challenge and when Osamu was about to win, you came running into the living room in just a towel because you saw a cockroach on the bathroom wall and didn't know that Atsumu came over while you were in the shower. The chef almost choked on the marshmallows when he saw you in a single towel, causing Atsumu to shriek in victory with his mouth full of marshmallows as well. In the end, you had to do the Heimlich manoeuvre on both of them.
Since it’s off-season for the professional volleyball player, he has nothing better to do than bother his younger brother and Osamu‘s pretty partner on a regular Saturday morning.
"You’re not even going to introduce yourself?" You interrupt him with a little laugh behind the counter with the video camera, where you are seated next to Atsumu so you can film your boyfriend.
"I’m Osamu Miya and today-" The ravenette starts again.
"Ya forgot ta mention the great Atsumu Miya's twin brother-" Atsumu adds cheekily, interrupting him yet again.
Osamu can’t stop the highly aggravated sigh escaping from him, and he sends his brother a death glare behind the camera.
“ANYWAY- I am going ta show ya’ll how ta make a simple deep fired shrimp onigiri. Joinin' me today is my beautiful assistant an' partner-in-crime, (Y/N)." The grey-eyed twin looks behind the camera where you are seated.
You look up with a surprised face, clearly not expecting to be helping your boyfriend.
Scooching off the bar stool in front of the counter, you hop down and make your way with slow steps to Osamu who watches you with adoration and fondness in his gray eyes.
"What’s the first step?" You ask excited, almost hopping up and down like an excited puppy.
Osamu gives you one of his rare breathtaking smiles, feeling his heart speed up by the happiness on your face.
"Well first, we need ta make sure we got all the ingredients for makin' this." The black-haired chef explains while the camera zooms out a bit and the viewer is able to see the laid out ingredients for making the dish.
Osamu points to each ingredient, explaining what it is, what you need it for and how much you need of it.
"Looks like we got everythin'. Ya ready?" Osamu leans on the counter as he watches you with a grin.
"Yes, chef." You giggle and roll up your sleeves on your hoodie.
You can hear Atsumu gag behind the camera as he hears your flirting.
"Alright. First, yer gonna crack an egg in a bowl an' whisk it, afterwards yer gonna add the flour an' the cold water. Mix all together. Add some spices so it’s not completely flavorless. Ya followin' so far?" Osamu raises his dark eyebrow as he asks you.
You do as he says, nodding in confirmation.
"Good. Now yer gonna put that off ta the side an' grab the other bowl with the flour innit an' put the shrimp in there."
Grabbing the already peeled shrimp out of the fridge, you dump them in the flour and mix it together, making sure that there are no bare parts left on the shrimp.
"Now what?"
"Now yer gonna dip the shrimp in da batter, hold it by its tail and then dunk it a few times in there. I already prepared da fryin' oil pot but I don’t wantcha ta hurt yerself so please let me do the fryin'." Osamu looks at you with his stunning ash-grey eyes and every time he looks at you with those eyes, it makes you weak in the knees, so all you do is stare at him with big eyes and nod your head.
The chef chuckles at your reaction and those chuckles send shivers down your spine.
"(Y/N), yer startin' ta drool over mah brother. Try ta tame yer thoughts please, I can hear them from here." Atsumu teases you with a mischievous grin.
Feeling your face heat up a thousand degrees, you watch as your boyfriend skillfully puts the shrimp in the frying pot, turning them over occasionally because taking them out to put them on a drying tray.
"Leave mah girl outta this. She just knows that I am a lot hotter than you." Osamu explains as he finishes the last bit of frying the shrimp.
"Yannow, if I'd known ya would be disgustin' like this, I would have stayed at home." Atsumu scrunches up his face.
"Door's right over there." Osamu mentions his head towards his front door, clearly not bothered and more than happy to have some alone time with you.
Atsumu pouts and slumps over the counter.
"(Y/N) do something. Yer ass of a boyfriend wants to kick me out." The Setter looks at you for help, giving you those brown puppy eyes.
Curse twins and their equally good looks.
"We still need Atsumu for making the video. And he can clean up afterwards since we are both cooking." You grin up at the younger twin.
"I ain’t cleanin' shit."
"He’s not gettin' anywhere near my damn kitchen."
The twins say in sync.
You laugh at their words, setting the already cooked sticky rice on the counter next to the shrimp, along with the seaweed strips, salt, water and boiled sauce for dipping the cooked shrimp in, before putting it into the rice onigiri.
The restaurant owner shows you how it’s done step by step, being slow with his movements, so you know how it’s done.
During the trying to copy his movements, the blonde excused himself to use the restroom and Osamu uses the chance to get closer to you.
He stands behind you, putting his giant hand over yours to help you shape the onigiri. He does it on a daily basis and you’re so happy that you are his and he is yours only.
"Try doin' it yerself." The dark-haired man whispers in your ear, sending shivers all over your body and getting goosebumps by his dark voice.
You feel his strong heartbeat against your back and your breathing picks up a bit. Leaning his head next to yours on your shoulder, you feel his smile against your cheek as he watches you try to shape the next onigiri by yourself.
Holding the somewhat triangular-shaped onigiri (it’s more heart shaped actually), you present it to him with an unsure look.
All of sudden, Osamu took a large bite out of it, getting some rice on his lips, shocking you a little bit even though you should have seen this coming, this is Osamu Miya after all.
Humming in bliss, your lover swallows the food before giving you a flirtatious look, turning you around so you’re standing face-to-face.
"Compliments to the chef."
Smiling in delight, the ravenette places a smooth and loving kiss onto your lips, pulling you closer to his body.
You forget the world around you, it’s just you and Osamu. And nothing else matters.
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Can’t Get Off Without You // Abby Anderson*
request: none!
prompts: none!
summary: after a long hard day of patrol, you just want to cuddle with your girlfriend. but after walking in on abby touching herself, your plans suddenly change.
warnings: smut, masturbation, oral (a. receiving), fingering (a. receiving), dom!reader, sub!abby, clit slapping, overstimulation, mean!reader, language, reader calls abby good girl
word count: 1.3k
a/n: gn!reader
join my taglist!
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You were exhausted. After a long day on patrol, you were relieved to finally be home, only wanting to spend the rest of the night curled up in your girlfriend’s arms as all your stress from the day melted away. But once you got inside, your face fell when your eyes met the empty couch, where Abby always sat waiting, ready to greet you after your long day. It had become almost routine at this point, and you couldn’t help the disappointment that welled up inside of you.
Sighing, you walked over to the couch and plopped down, shrugging off your coat and tugging your boots off. You sat there for a moment, almost hoping she would walk down the stairs to greet you after having heard the door shut. But still, there was nothing. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up, the stark change to your unspoken routine too jarring to come to terms with.
With a slight groan, you pushed yourself off of the couch, trudging over to the staircase and practically dragging yourself up the stairs, exhaustion plaguing your form. But as you neared your bedroom, you stopped in your tracks. Soft moans were coming from the other side of the door, sounds you knew belonged to your girlfriend.
Your first thought was that she was cheating on you, the absurdity of the idea forcing it out of your head almost as quickly as it had arrived. There was no way Abby would cheat on you, you knew she was better than that. Which plagued the question: what was she doing?
Your curiosity got the best of you, forcing yourself to the door, Abby’s moans growing louder the closer you got. Pressing your ear to the door, you could hear the unmistakable sounds of her squelching pussy. Fuck, she sounded soaked. Your mouth watered at the thought. Unable to wait any longer, you pushed the door open quietly, hoping to remain undetected.
And there she was, splayed out on your shared bed, her fingers ruthlessly pounding into her tight cunt. God, what a sight she was. Her braid in disarray, strands of hair stuck to her forehead due to the light sheen of sweat covering her body. She looked straight out of a wet dream, and you couldn’t help but want to-
You were pulled out of your fantasies by Abby huffing in frustration, pulling her fingers out of her pussy and slumping against the mattress. You couldn’t help the soft pang of pity you felt when looking at her. Poor baby couldn’t get herself off. Looks like you were gonna have to step in and help her.
Creeping over as silently as you could, you climbed onto the bed and lied down between her legs, miraculously remaining undetected, Abby being too distracted by her frustration. Grinning to yourself, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around her clit, suckling it into your mouth and flicking your tongue over the sensitive bud.
Abby’s back arched at the sudden feeling, the sudden stimulation startling her and setting her nerves alight. A strangled moan fell from her lips and her hips bucked into your face. Pulling back to look at her, you couldn’t help but laugh under your breath at how utterly desperate she looked for you.
“You know you’re not supposed to touch yourself without permission, baby,” you said, dragging your nails down her thighs, Abby twitching at the feeling.
“I- I’m sorry, I-”
“But from the looks of it, you couldn’t even get yourself off anyways,” you taunted, not letting her finish her pathetic excuse for an apology.
“Please,” she whimpered, her eyes watering with desperation as she wordlessly pleaded with you.
“Poor baby. Just so needy. Can’t even get off without me, can you?”
Abby shook her head, her hands fisting the sheets tightly as she resisted the urge to touch you, not wanting herself to get into even more trouble. “No…” she whispered, her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment.
You smiled condescendingly as your fingers traced aimlessly on her thighs, only succeeding in getting her even more worked up. “Guess I should help you with that, huh?”
Abby nodded eagerly, her knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping the sheets. “Please…”
Not even bothering to reply, you leaned back down, your head disappearing between her thighs once more. Just feeling your soft breath against her soaked folds made her back arch and her hips rut forward, her pure desperation and need for release taking control of her movements.
You slowly trailed kisses up her inner thigh, purposely ignoring her aching cunt to repeat the action on the other side. Abby whimpered softly, fighting the urge to grab your hair and shove your face in her pussy. She wanted to be good for you, but sometimes, you just made it so hard.
“Fuck… need you. Please…” Abby begged, her voice quivering in need.
“Poor baby… what do you need, hmm?” you asked, a teasing lilt in your voice as you smirked at her.
Abby blushed harder, not being able to say it. Despite how confident and strong she usually was, when it came to you she was just so incredibly shy. It was adorable, and you couldn’t help but fluster her at every available chance, loving the way her face turned red and she struggled to speak.
“I- I need you to eat my pussy,” Abby forced out, her eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment from having said something so vulgar aloud.
“Good girl. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Before giving her a chance to respond, you finally gave her what she wanted, dragging your tongue through her sopping folds and groaning at the taste that was so distinctly her. Abby whined at the feeling, her hand reaching down to grip your hair tightly, unable to restrain herself any longer.
“F-fuck… that’s it. Holy shit… so fucking good…”
You let her hand guide your movements, too lost in the feeling to care about her breaking the rules. It just felt so good when she used your face to pleasure herself, her hips messily humping your tongue.
You flicked your tongue over her clit, Abby’s movements faltering at the sudden feeling, giving you the time to wrap your lips around her clit, suckling it into your mouth and trailing your tongue around the sensitive bud in the way you knew drove her crazy.
“Fuck… I- fuck, I’m cumming… fuck,” Abby mumbled, her words slurring together as she reached her high.
Her pathetic whines and whimpers only spurred you on, making you speed up your tongue on her clit and slip two fingers into her aching hole. You wanted nothing more than to make her fall apart on your tongue. You needed to make her feel good more than you needed air to breathe.
You moaned into her cunt as she finally let go, her cum coating your fingers and your chin. You could never get enough of her, and you definitely weren’t finished with her yet.
“Fuck- it’s too much. Please…” Abby whined, trying to pull you away from her sensitive pussy.
You pulled off of her clit and licked your lips clean as you smirked at her, your fingers still relentlessly pumping in and out of her soaked core.
“You can take it baby. You were just so desperate to get off earlier, I’m only giving you what you wanted. You can give me one more, can’t you?”
Abby nodded hesitantly, the overstimulation burning in the most delicious way. You pulled your fingers out of her pussy and delivered a swift slap to her clit, causing Abby to let out the most pathetic whine as she leaned into the touch.
“Words, baby.”
“Y-yes. I can give you another one.”
“Good girl.”
You smiled wickedly and lowered yourself back down, your tongue darting out to lap at her clit. There was no way you were gonna stop at just one more. You wanted to ruin her, watch her come undone on your tongue and fingers over and over again. And that’s exactly what you were gonna do.
tags: @velvet-sugarcookie @fictionalgap @ihyperfixatetoomuch @marsworlddd
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