#and part of that is them being careful about a delicate topic

[targaryen-dynasty]

alrightie bestie, I find the slutty sleepover a lovely idea!

with this being said, I'd love if possible the gif number eleven with aemond and if possible as kinks: breeding kink and size kink!

(I'd love canon era but I am fine with whatever you come up with)

alrightie I am off and have a spooky time!

KINKTOBER SLEEPOVER.

No. 2 -> GIF.

Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; p in v, breeding kink, breeding, pregnancy kink, size kink, size difference, mentions of reader's appearance

WORDS: 1.5 K

NOTES: My beloved angsty, thank you so, so much for this request! That gif is my favorite. Hope you like this!

Moments like these always made you terribly aware of how much taller, and stronger, your husband was than you, whereas that realization made you incredibly aroused. Where Aemond had you captured between his tall frame and the stone wall before, forcing you to meet his gaze by craning your neck up to look at him, you now were pinned between him and your marital bed. 

But Aemond had not always been like that. There was a time where he was hesitant to take you whenever he desired, whenever he needed you. 

In the early stages of your marriage, it almost seemed as if the young prince was intimidated by you, afraid to touch you, but perhaps he just had been incredibly embarrassed by his lack of hands-on experience with the act of bedding his partner.

He hadn’t told you about the bad experience he had when he turned three-and-ten, his older brother did to make fun of him, and your heart ached for the poor man you had married when you had heard the story. 

So, you made it your duty to show him the true sensuality of fucking, and, surprisingly, it didn’t take too long for him to relax, his confidence growing rather quickly. 

But something at supper with his family must have aroused him to the point of no return, and you partly blamed it on the slowly growing swell of his older sister’s middle.

And boy, never before had he given into his desires so easily. While he had taken you like a man starved a hundred of times before, the man that thrusted into you now came closer to a wildling that lived beyond the wall, than the dutiful second son of King Viserys Targaryen. 

Even before the door to your chambers was closed completely, Aemond‘s lips were on yours, claiming them while he herded you against the wall. His nimble fingers clawed at your gown, and, once it fell to the ground, your smallclothes, a tad too eagerly undoing the laces of your bodice and everything that lay beneath. 

You had to physically stop him from easing into you right then and there, and even when you were allowed to climb onto the bed, Aemond was very adamant to mound you as fast as possible. 

‘On your hands and knees,’ he had ordered, and when you weren’t quick enough to follow his command, he had used his hand to nudge you into the position he desired. Despite the urgency he had held in him, he was gentle, but there just was more determination in him than usual. 

You had done as he told you to, presenting him your slick womanhood while he stripped himself of his breeches and braises, not caring much if the tunic hung still from his shoulder. He had positioned himself behind you, the tip of his cock dragging up and down your slick folds, until it eventually breached your core with a sigh of relief leaving his parted lips. 

‘Tonight is the night I shall put a babe in you,’ he had panted, his voice hoarse despite not really doing anything. The thought of getting pregnant had so often crossed your mind, especially when you had heard the news of Rhaenyra being pregnant with hers and Daemon’s first child, and then the second followed. And when Helaena announced her pregnancy, the longing became more and more apparent. 

And it seemed your husband felt exactly the same. 

The topic had felt too delicate for you to approach it for the longest of time, hence your lack of conversation regarding it, but the threads of your husband’s restraint had obviously snapped, and you knew it was time to give him an heir. 

When the ministrations of Aemond’s hips became too harsh, too rough, your small frame toppled forwards, landing stomach first on the bed. But his thrusts didn’t stop at that, and the dragon behind you merely moved to straddle your thighs, until eventually the weight of his body collapsed on you and hugged you like a mantle, pinning you down beneath him. 

“Gods,” you moaned, shushed by Aemond’s lips on your temple. “I can not wait to see your belly swell with my child,” he rasped into your ear to which you just whimpered. “I want everyone at court to know. I want them to look at you and know who is fucking you every night, to whom you belong.”

Your hands clawed the linen beneath your sweaty frame, and Aemond was quick to bring both of his own to put them over yours, his hand big enough to cover them whole. He interlocked his fingers with yours, grasping them mayhaps even a bit too tightly. 

“Do you like that?” he asked, keeping his lips against your skin, and you could hear his smug grin from miles away, you didn’t even have to look at him. 

The warmth of his body, his weight and scent clouded your every being, and even though his thrusts weren’t as fast as before anymore, they still were determined and harsh enough to render you speechless, your mind and body completely claimed by him. 

You were not exactly frail or petite, but he was so much bigger than you that it didn’t even matter. You felt safe and blessed in his hold, fucked like a wildling, but loved with such intensity you felt like the most desired lady in the realm. 

“Y-Yes,” you whimpered beneath him, releasing one gasp after the other when his cock repeatedly brushed the spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. “I-I want… need you, husband,” you moaned, heat building inside of your belly. As you took in a deep breath, you turned your head slightly to chase his lips for a kiss, which he eagerly granted you. 

Your lips only parted to release breathy groans and whimpers, but your faces stayed close together. “Want a babe so, so much, husband,” you whimpered against his lips, “you will give me one, yes?”

At your words, you could feel his body tense with desire, his cock twitching at the thought putting a child in you. “Yes,” he panted, “as many children as you wish. Sons and daughters both, I swear.” 

One of his hands released yours to snake beneath your body, aiming for your sensitive pearl. Though the linen beneath had granted you at least a bit of friction, it wasn’t enough to bring you to your peak. His thumb circled over the little bud, coated with your arousal, and the thread in your belly was close to snapping. 

“Let me give you an heir. Put a babe in me, husband.”

It appeared that your words granted him a new-found vigor that had you gasping, the pace of his hips increasing. “My seed, my heart, ‘tis all yours,'' he groaned, “you want it, wife? You want my seed?”

You could only whine at the question, and started to roll your hips against his hand and hips, creating some extra friction that not only fed your own pleasure, but his, too. You came with a cry of his name, and if you wouldn’t be lying on your stomach already, you surely would have toppled over at the force of your peak. 

As you clenched around him like a vice, with your small frame trembling beneath his, Aemond released a strangled moan, his own peak being milked out of him by your convulsing walls. 

Both your bodies moved on their own accords, rutting and rocking in rhythm to make sure that your act bore fruit. Only when Aemond felt as if there was not one drop of his seed left inside of him, he stopped his ministrations, the hand that had circled your pearl coming up to seize your hips, stilling them. 

He pressed his lips to the side of your face, his heavy, erratic breathing fanning over your flushed and sweaty skin. In that moment, you felt whole. His weight pinned you down, keeping you grounded, and the softness of his gestures comforted your tumbled mind. “Are you certain it worked?” you whispered, the matter suddenly seeming far too delicate again. 

Aemond braced himself on his hands, but was careful to stay nestled inside of you, despite his cock slowly becoming flaccid. “Only time will tell, sweet wife,” he replied, “but that does not have to stop us from trying a few more times… just to make sure.” There was a teasing edge in his voice, and when his arms wrapped around your body to take you with him as he sat back on his haunches, you knew that a long night lay ahead of you – but you didn’t mind at all. 

#house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #hotd fanfic #hotd x you #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x you #aemond stannies #aemond smut #aemond imagine #aemond fic #hotd fic #hotd imagine #hotd smut #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon aemond

[celestialtarot11]

Small astro observations ☕️🤍

• Those with cancer moon in the 1st house come across “witchy,” some may even describe them as moody or reserved. There’s a certain kind of witchyness in them that I like 👀 my best friend has this placement, and she knows how to read peoples energy just by looking at them. I believe that’s her source of witchyness.

• She also has a youthful, round face. Being ruled by moon, her features are softer and delicate.

• Also, her moon is in Leo. This astrological polarity creates lots of unique sides in the native. Other people may think of these sides as “contradictory,” but the native can be very deep as a person. They explore all parts of themselves, and if they haven’t, part of their mission in their lifetime is to embrace all aspects of themselves, regardless of what others think.

• Jupiter in Leo people don’t chase that bag 💅🏻 they CREATE. They do enjoy when others buy things for them and when men especially (if the woman has this placement) provide for them financially. Men with this placement don’t like to rely on others for money, their pride comes with having a lot of money under their belt.

• Pluto in the 2nd house goes through radical financial changes. Whether that’s due to an issue with being careless with their money, to an event happening outside of them that causes them to struggle financially. The native does not feel secure financially and feels worried. Depending on the aspects in the natives chart, they can attract abundance just as easily as they lost their bag 💅🏻

• Earth mercuries and leaving their phone on DND, or ignoring notifications to preserve their peace 😌👋 hi ya’ll.

• A capricorns loyalty is not one to be messed with, especially if the native has healed past wounds, and is self aware. They have the ability to hold themselves accountable and do better. However, I’ve noticed capricorns who haven’t worked through their past issues have no problem leaving you to struggle, and only coming back when they need help.

• Male capricorns, if your father figure was not structured and present emotionally, do yourself a favor and go to therapy ☕️🤷🏻‍♀️ it’ll help you tons. Especially those with Saturn retrograde in the chart, because Saturn represents the father. If the natives sun placement is afflicted, the same applies here.

• I knew a guy with Saturn in the 10th house retrograde definitely had daddy issues growing up, and still does. The father relies on his child to be cared for, instead of the other way around. The father finds himself struggling to provide basic living, so the child takes on the stress of providing for the parent at a young age.

• Virgo placements & libra…what’s up with wanting to be hidden? I’ve met a man who at the time was struggling mentally, was borderline checking out of reality. He couldn’t hold a proper conversation without his head being lost in some far land 🤣 every topic was too vague, and too abstract for it to make sense. And as soon as I asked his placement and guessed it correctly, he gave me a look and said he didn’t like what I knew of him. He was bothered and seen 👀

• Virgo venus, ya’ll females are so beautiful. Even though venus doesn’t like it here, there’s something so beautiful, and effortless about these individuals. They may have a mature look depending on their other placements, and aspects.

Thats all I have! Thank you all for reading and supporting 👋☺️ this was fun to create. Feel free to add on and share your thoughts!

Book a reading with me here 🤍

#astrology #devi post #astrology community #divination #witchcraft #astro #astrology notes #astro notes #astrology observations

[shadesoflsk]

WILL YOU BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS?

pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x gn!reader

summary: It's going to be Leon's first Christmas without you. He promised you he would get over your death. But how is he planning to do it if the ghost of you keeps haunting him?

warnings: Character’s death, (reader) angst, hurt/no comfort, self-destructing behaviour, alcohol, mentions of religion, Leon speaks with reader.

author's note: I took the liberty to switch the order of my Christmas' special fics, I decided to post this one first since I liked it a lot. I would even say it’s my favorite one so far. Grief is such an interesting topic to write about, so I hope I did a great job! The dialogue part was lowkey (highkey) inspired by one scene from the Crown, season 6. The one where Carlos talked with Diana’s spirit. 

It’s 11:45 pm or so Leon believes. Time seems to slow down when night engulfs his apartment, and he is let alone with his own demons. He would be in pitch darkness if it wasn’t from the fact that his neighbor had decided to turn on the Christmas tree lights that reached through Leon’s windows. Faint carols could be heard, and it was a dreadful reminder of what date it was. 

He is trying, he really is. He drowns in his job that is slowly but surely killing him. Mission after mission, he keeps attempting to mess up — with no avail — since life is cruel enough to keep him alive, to continue watching his sins materialize in sorrow and depressive states. 

During the latter, he would often forget or purposely avoid taking care of himself. When was the last time he ate a full meal? He doesn’t nor wants to remember. His apartment was starting to reek of alcohol and rotten food that Claire has so gratefully left. She would often try striking up some conversation, which was welcomed with an awkward but expected silence. He was never the talkative one. On numerous occasions, he was reprimanded by you for this same topic. So, in the past, he decided to stick with a one-liner — that sometimes brought him unnecessary attention — the dinner one. Your laugh would fill his ears as he told you about the multiple times where people thought he was flirting with them. If you were here, could he make you laugh like that again? Or would you be disgusted by the man he has become these last weeks?

Besides his own memory serving as the place where your face and mannerisms would replay all over again, where are you now? He once heard that a soul is destined to be reborn into a new life. Life is cyclical, the sun rises and sets, the day and night come, but they never meet. He wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a lilly now. The pureness in your heart resembled one of those delicate flowers that your eyes seemed to follow each time you passed through a flower shop. Or maybe you’re someone’s baby being born. Bringing happiness to a family that prayed all night long for a miracle to happen. 

His mind wandered through the blurry moments when he was young. Prayers and cries surrounding a well illuminated place where many statues were presented. He used to fear one specifically, but the gentle touch of his mom would pull him closer to it. In his memory, he looked up to see the person who gave him life, yet he was met with a diffuse image of her. He has long forgotten the looks of his mother. 

In those moments, he often wondered what heaven felt like. He grasps on the last string of memories he had with his parents. How his mother would pull him to her lap and read to him. “Our God loves us so much that he has granted us a place to go when the time is right,” she would say, the term of death was so foreign to his little self but once again he remembers those prayers and promises. Is heaven the clear sky and peaceful home the Bible describes? Or is it a nonexistent place that Christians invented to cope with the fact that a loved one is no longer with them? He hopes it’s the first one since he wants to indulge in that little wish of him — that at least in the afterlife — you found peace. 

How is heaven? He wanted to ask you. Conversations with you used to flow so easily, so right. So, when the time comes he expects to hear every little rambling about your early trip to this called “everlasting paradise”. Is it raining right now? You loved rainy days, since it meant that both of you could cuddle while watching a movie. Or is it snowing since it’s Christmas?  He could almost hear you, your voice echoing in the deepest places of his mind telling him to stop trying to open the gifts. You were supposed to be next to him right now, waiting for Christmas to come.

He is in denial, two weeks ago he had you safely tucked in his arms, already planning what to do on Christmas. He still had your gift somewhere, hidden from your prying eyes even though you kept scolding him for that. Both of you were soulmates, two sides of the same coin. 

Now, he only had the ghost of you haunting him. Mocking him for not being able to protect you. He was hyper aware of every little detail his apartment provided. From the way he hasn’t moved your used mug on the dishwasher, because he feels that it was the last thing your lips touched. A bittersweet memory of your existence in this cruel world, to your book that you didn’t finish. You kept telling him that you were dying to know the ending but you couldn’t finish it before it was too late. If he reads it and prays to God, would he be generous enough to tell you the ending? 

He wouldn’t.

Every night he prayed to God, begged him to switch places with you even though it was an unrealistic thing to ask. But that’s what he wants right now. “It should’ve been me.” But that wish never becomes a reality. He wakes up, night after night, being him and being alone. God doesn’t hear him, he believes that this made up character just blatantly hates him. The forgiving, the loving and almighty God as his followers describe him, just doesn’t match up with his own criteria. A loving God wouldn’t have taken away his only reason to live.

The content in his Jack Daniel’s now does little to numb the pain he was feeling. With a sigh, he drank a bit more, straight from the bottle as the burning sensation traveled from his tongue to his throat. If he drinks enough until he passes out, he could imagine you. Moving across the kitchen with agile steps as you cook his favorite food.

Those moments were the ones he thinks he should've embraced more. Your quirks and habits. How you usually left traces of yourself in his apartment. How you always missed a spot when cleaning the counter and how you always kissed his forehead when placing the plate down on the table. 

Now, it's a bitter reminder of his own loneliness. His eyebrows twitched as the Christmas carols seemed to get louder. The clock reads 11:50 pm, ten minutes to Christmas. Even with the thick snow, the chants of kids being too stubborn to fall asleep were loud enough to fill Leon's ears. He hates living in this neighborhood filled with happy families.

You had a wide and warm smile when you showed Leon this same apartment he's currently rotting in. “It will be perfect once we have a family,” he remembers word by word what you said and he also remembers how you stumbled on your words once you saw the quizzical look he gave you. “I mean we could just have a dog or a cat if you want that. After all, family is where you are.”

Always the damn perfect partner. Always the stupid understanding other half. Why the hell did you even appear in his life if you were gonna die? Everyone else mourned your death but now they are moving on, yet Leon is staying in a never ending loop. Was it your plan? Are you fucking happy in heaven?

For once, he feels all the anger he’s been bottling up. His fists clenched as his breaths grew heavier. He throws the bottle against the wall. The contents spilling all over the floor as the bottle shattered in multiple pieces. He stared at the mess he’s done. His shaking hands grabbed handfuls of his own hair as he tried his best to compose himself. His mind repeating that you would be disappointed over and over again. 

Icy blue eyes started to get clouded by tears he refused to let go. The palm of his hand almost bled by his own nails digging into the thin skin. The regrets and what ifs were the perfect combination for Leon’s wish of dying albeit the fact of his own self deprecating being who believed he deserved to live this hell of a life alone. 

As he managed to keep his tears at bay for now, his eyes lingered on your designated seat at the table. You would always sit at his right, next to him, sometimes holding his hand, forcing him to eat his food with his left one. Now, his hand is cold without your touch. Which reminds him of your body and the last time he held you. Your heart no longer beat and your body was a freezing cruel realization of your death. 

“I was never good with emotions…” Leon’s voice came out as a groan. He had finally spoken after God knows how long. His own throat was constricted by the lump that was forming. He was denying himself the right to be raw, to be human. “You were the one who was better at everything… not me.” Leon swallows his own saliva, an attempt to stop the imminent lump. 

“I guess I was.” A melodic voice which was no more than a whisper filled Leon’s intoxicated ears. He looks at the empty seat next to him and sees nothing. It may be his own mind playing dirty tricks on him. Everything was blurred and dizzy from all the booze he had drunk. But nonetheless, he wouldn’t miss this opportunity, even if you were a creation of his own messed up mind. 

“I’ll take every little moment with me.” The voice was painfully comforting, a soothing lullaby to Leon’s broken beyond repair heart, a gentle breeze that surrounded his body. “The hugs, the kisses, our little trips to the beach and even the fights when none of us could go to bed without saying sorry.” 

A laugh as soft as a draft lingered in the air. The reality behind those words made Leon feel like he was going crazy. He blames the alcohol and the lack of social interactions for this moment. But your bubbly personality was unmistakable. That sweet and tooth- roothing laugh was — at least to Leon — proof that maybe, just maybe, God allowed him to grasp on you one last time.

Or maybe God allowed you to pay him a visit. Neither of you were religious people, but you were closer to heaven that he’ll ever be. So, maybe that pure and wholesome smile blinded God, and you escaped, true to your rebellious nature. Your death turned him into a sappy man. He has always loved you, but the tragic destiny you met made him see you in an even better light. 

“You know I loved you so much…” The voice turned sour and sad, so out of character for you. Well… if it’s you. Even in your last days, you tried to be that thoughtful partner, pushing away every worry out of his mind even though you were slowly withering away. The words slightly trembled, albeit the raw honesty that was being said. Silence set as if the owner of the voice was attempting not to cry. 

“So deeply…” The hushed voice seemed to get even quieter as the course of its words dug deeper in Leon’s heart making it bleed harder than ever. His hand itches to reach where he thinks you are, as if you could materialize from thin air and give him one last hug. One last farewell.

“Please, stop blaming yourself for this. This wasn’t your fault.” Yes, it was. Leon wanted to tell you that. You planted seeds of hope in his heart even when he felt the world was too corrupted to be home for someone as splendid as you. The sense of your living left him chasing footsteps and shadows in order to meet you again.

And as a moth to a flame, he followed you. The chemicals in his brain working overtime to hear the gentle ring of your voice as long as you keep talking. It doesn’t matter if this behavior could put him at a psych after. Talking with ghosts? That can’t happen, yet his love for you seems to break the rules between life and the realms of the afterlife.

“You weren’t supposed to go so soon…” Leon’s voice fills the dim room, engaging in conversation, the tears that he was previously fighting off were at the verge of falling from his eyes. But as a stubborn man, he wouldn’t show weakness and vulnerability, even in a moment like this. “I know nothing good lasts long in my life but —” a choke left his lips as the lump is now growing impossible to hold back. “What kind of twisted sin am I paying off? I can’t live a life without you, I simply can’t.”

“I wasn’t done with you, I wasn’t done with our life. I wanted to adopt that dog we saw at the shelter. Do you remember? I wanted to take you to Italy because you once told me you wanted to try a real pizza.” A shaky breath cuts off Leon’s speech before he continues, his slurred words stumbling one another as if he knew he was running out of time. “I wanted to grow old with you, I wanted to be the first person to notice the gray hair appearing in you. The first wrinkles in your face, which I’m sure would have looked amazing in you darling, you were always perfect. I wanted to help you stand up when your legs couldn’t carry the weight of your body. I wanted —”

“Leon.”

“I wanted to at least spend one last Christmas with you.”

He finishes off with one last wish. One last desire he had hid in his mind for a while now. He knew everything had ended, but right now, he wanted to hear you one last time. He wanted to hear an "I love you" from you.

And there it was… the last thing he wanted to hear. Nothing. 

As soon as the deadly silence filled the room again, uncontrollable tears streamed down his face. Leon bent forward, his forehead hitting against the hard material of the table, letting out all of his repressed emotions. In the midst of his despair and hatred, he cried not only for you and the fact that he failed to protect you. Each drop carried the weight of every life that was lost under his watch, each one of those bright eyed agents who were looking forward to working with him, and only found death in their paths.

What has he done wrong to deserve this terrible but inevitable outcome? He’s beyond tired, beyond hopeless. In his rage, he could only blame the world. 

God, why have you forsaken me? 

He stays there for a while, drowning in his own tears. As reality once again sets in. Deep down, he knew this would be the last time. The universe granted him (or cursed him) by allowing him to hear you one last time. Hear the tender tone of your voice calling his name like you used to do. And maybe he should take that with him just like you did. 

Everyone dies, so will he. There will be a time when God takes pity on him and allows him to meet you once again. Once the time comes and he's sent to the place where you are, he will tell you about the book’s ending. He will tell you about every mission he will get in the still unknown future. He will tell how much he missed you and how much he loved your presence, even if it was just the blink of an eye. He doesn’t know what else he will tell you, but he’s going to make sure to have a list before parting from this world — in a long, far future.

He had enjoyed meeting and being with you. And if somehow God gives him another chance, he would choose you over and over again.

The sweet carols have grown faint and not even the innocent chants of those children filled Leon’s empty and dark living room. It’s already christmas.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #vendetta leon #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy drabble

[rubra-wav]

Butterfly demon reader pt. 2 - Wing care group hc/drabble-y

Cw: SFW, total fluff, gn!reader - in which Vaggie, Husk, and reader preen each other's wings

< Part 1

- In the beginning, Vaggie is hesitant to let you or Husk touch her wings. She just got them back, she doesn't want them to get harmed at all.

- However, not letting anyone help with upkeep would be leaving her wings even more vulnerable to damage. So she agrees to it eventually.

- The topic originally came up because Vaggie was concerned about your wings

- They are so delicate and prone to being damaged by so many things. If you even just brushed up against things accidentally and had too much of your scales come off it could be bad!

- Assuring her you had a lot and could replenish them after a certain amount of time didn't do much either.

- After the Angel's attacked the hotel, your wings were left tattered in places, and she had absolutely fretted over it. Helping you take care of them until they healed up.

- She was taken aback when you asked if you could help preen her own wings, but after some convincing let you.

- After she got over her initial hesitance and slight discomfort with having them touched, she couldn't lie that after so long, having delicate touches gently correcting her feathers and brushing them out felt incredible.

- That's how wing care group began.

- Every Monday at 8pm, you and Vaggie meet up for an hour (or more if it turns out that way) to help one-another clean and maintain one-another's wings.

- In these sessions you usually just talk about random stuff and gossip a bit.

- You make tea and snacks, and essentially just chill out together doing whatever.

- Sometimes other members of the hotel will join you two to do whatnot while you work on each other.

- One of these times is how you two rope Husk into it.

- You'd set up in the TV room (you usually met for it in your hotel room) because you saw a movie you thought Vaggie may have liked, and Husk was there watching you two go about stuff with disgust on his face from behind the bar.

- "Do you two have to do that shit here?" Husk asks with clear distaste.

- A remark he'd regret making because next thing he knows, you and Vaggie are picking him up by either arm guiding him into the seat of wing attentionTM and are sitting him down in it.

- He of course tries to get out of it, but you end up convincing him to stay miraculously.

- By the end of you two working to groom his wings, he's purring begrudgingly with the bitterest look on his face, trying to say he doesn't like it.

- You call his bullshit and he goes quiet with an even more sour look on his face.

- Despite 'not liking it', he ends up showing up next Monday again.

- He flips you off as you grin at him and say you were glad he was joining you two again.

- And that's how the three of you as your strange trio begin to weekly preen one-another. All the while getting in some great shit-talking and bitching sessions about stuff that's been going on in each of your lives.

- Other members of the hotel sometimes join in, but they don't ever get in as deep into the bond from it as you three share.

- Charlie often comes in to gawk and join in on your discussions, but usually doesn't consistently show as although she wants to be part of the stuff she sees this as really important bonding time just for the three of you (which is true)

- Angel sometimes comes in to the meetings while he's bored and wanting to bitch or asking Husk about the location of different booze in the bar.

- Pentious keeps trying to join you three saying you can help him with his tail and he'll help you with your wings, but it doesn't work as he isn't gentle enough with your wings the first time and ends up tearing one.

- The other two are extremely protective of you and your wings in particular, knowing first hand how easily they are harmed, so even with you saying it was fine with your wing slightly torn, the other two chuck him out.

- Niffty sometimes tries to crash the meeting to try get pieces of you, but the other two keep her from getting to you. You placate her with the excess feathers from the other two's wings and things your scales have brushed off onto. You don't tell the others about this.

- Alastor comes in to watch you all to make you uncomfortable even though he thinks it's gross.

- Especially Husk.

- You and Vaggie usually throw him out of there as soon as he randomly materialises in there without warning to be an asshole.

- It's an odd sight to see a fallen angel, an avian cat demon, and a butterfly demon preening each other, but the three of you become rather close due to it and you all would not have it any other way.

- You are all very protective of one-another after everything - especially Vaggie and Husk of you. If anything ever happens to you now, there's gonna be absolute hell to pay.

- You three all love the time you spend together every Monday night.

- Even if some people (Husk) would never admit it.

Rare fluff content from me 💀

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk headcanons #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel vaggie x reader #vaggie x reader #vaggie headcanons #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel pentious #hazbin hotel headcanon

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Unconventional Flowers Event - April

Bleeding Hearts and the Cherry Blossom Festival ft. Nanami

A/N: April prompt for my Unconventional Flowers Event. A little longer and angsty compared to my previous ones but here we are. Requested for by the sweet @harlekin6

Rating: 13+ to be safe, fluffy, slightly angsty

Pairing: Nanami x reader

Word Count: 1634

“This way sensei!” The students lead you eagerly through the grounds of the vast cherry blossom park. The delicate pink blooms had finally blossomed and the school had thought it was a good idea to go as a group to see them.

Usually, you’d be excited and looking forward to going but this year when the plans were being made you hesitated. It brought back painful and embarrassing memories from almost a year ago. Memories you had tried to bury, unsuccessfully.

A heavy dread settles in your chest as you remember it like it was yesterday. The tears, the yelling, the insistence that the two of you could work it out. The both of you had been on back-to-back missions, schedules making you miss each other consecutively. Hadn’t spent any time together as a couple in months, even though you lived together. 

Perhaps he felt inadequate when you had brought up the topic of wanting to spend more time with him, maybe both of you putting in some time off together. It was cherry blossom season after all. Maybe the date you had planned this weekend could be extended and you could take a mini vacation to reconnect. You hadn’t imagined in your wildest dreams that he would look at you in the face, calmly, and say maybe you should break up. 

The air seemed to vanish from your lungs. Was it something you did? No. Was there something he needed to talk about? No. 

“You deserve better,” he’d said, readjusting his glasses. You’d been together for the better part of a year, understood each other’s line of work, and hadn’t really had any arguments or complaints. “I just don’t feel like I’ve been a good boyfriend to you. You deserve someone who can do nicer things for you. Who can actually give you proper attention and be present for you.”

“I’m too needy? Is that what you’re saying?” You had asked as you jolted up from the sofa. 

“No. Not at all. But I don’t feel like I’m giving my all to this relationship. It’s unfair to you. It might be best if we break up.” His voice felt strained and he looked at you like he wanted to pull you into a hug and tell you it was for the best. But you felt yourself turn icy and move away from him. You spent the night in the guest bedroom, sobbing, wondering where it had all gone wrong. 

You couldn’t face him, felt trapped in this space that had become your home like you were living in a stranger’s skin. It felt like a cruel joke as you had silently packed your suitcase, being careful not to disturb him, spotting both your spring yukatas hanging next to each other in the closet, ready for the cherry blossom festival. You had packed the yukata, swearing you’d never wear it, and had quietly slipped out in the quiet hours of the morning.

Avoiding each other had been hard. Both of you worked at the same school, after all, taught the same students. You thought you had been fine. A month passed. You thought you were moving on.

Then one day, you saw him leaving campus with another woman. No one you knew, but an attractive woman. Your feet had taken you to the nearest bar and you had downed the shots like water, one after the other. The kind bartender had helped you get a cab home and you had passed out on your bed. The next day morning, you woke up, hungover, and immediately checked your call list, feeling proud there weren't any drunk outgoing pity calls to him…then froze when you saw a text from him.

It was a photo of a very strange-looking plant, a large bouquet of it, heart-shaped with little petals hanging off the bottom. 

Are you all right?

The text that accompanied it, had you wracking your brain trying to piece together what had happened. You ran the flower picture through Google’s image search which identified them as Bleeding Heart flowers, and then a quick perusal through your browsing history had you covering your face and moaning in mortification. 

YOU HAD SENT A BOUQUET OF THESE FLOWERS TO HIM. 

A damn bouquet of flowers that signified heartbreak and unreturned love. The card accompanying the bouquet was a long letter about how much you hated him for ending things. If the ground could split open and swallow you whole, now would be the right time. How were you supposed to face him at work? When you saw him a few hours later, he looked at you exactly how you had been wishing he wouldn’t. That look of empathy and pity. 

“I think we should talk.”

“No. We don’t. Forget it happened.” Just like how you forgot me 

“I just want to make sure you’re all right,” No I’m not all right. It hurts to see you. To be near you. 

“I’m fine!” With the hardest effort you’ve ever exerted in your life, you turn away. “I’m sorry for the flowers. I was drunk. I think maybe it’s for the best if we don’t talk to each other anymore. Unless it’s about work.”

“Y/n…” Please don’t say my name. I’ll shatter.

You walked away, steeling yourself to not cry in front of him, your heart cracking and breaking into pieces all over again. 

“Sensei!” You snap out of your reverie, pulled back to the present, wearing the same yukata you swore you’d never wear. Yuji had a wide grin on his face, clearly excited to explore the rest of the area. He and Nobara and Megumi were all dressed in their finest, little hearts unburdened by the grief of a relationship breakup.

You fix a smile on your face. At the least, the staff had some consideration on your part when you said you’d chaperone the students rather than go with the rest of the teachers. It was easier this way. The students were a good distraction. You were supposed to meet up with Gojo who was helping you chaperone, so all of you kept your eyes peeled, searching for a head full of fluffy white locks. 

It doesn’t take too long, but when you finally spy Gojo, you realize with a heart-stopping squeeze that he isn’t alone. Tall, blond, and looking subdued, Nanami walks next to him, and it is all you can do to not panic and keep your composure.

“Was Nanami-san supposed to be chaperoning with us?” You ask, hoping you sounded nonchalant though there’s a quiver in your voice.

The 3 students give you their most innocent smiles before Nobara replies. “He’s not here to chaperone. And neither are you actually. We’re going with Gojo-sensei.”

A flood of trepidation fills you. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea. That wasn’t the plan.” You start weighing your options in case they did go with Gojo. You could just brush past him and go home. No one would stop you. You could - 

“There you are!” Gojo’s loud voice cuts through your escape plan thoughts. Realizing there was no way out of it, you stiffen, and when Nanami sees you, he does the same, eyes widening slightly.

“Well, I’ve got the kids!” Gojo says cheerfully. “Meet you guys here in another hour.” With that, they all vanish into the crowd.

Nanami looks tired, more than usual. He looks at you as though unsure what to say. He was wearing the yukata that had been hanging in the closet on the night you left. Last year, when the two of you should have been at this event, together. It felt like a million miles separated you both despite being feet away from each other.

“Looks like they gave us the slip huh?” you ask nervously, trying to brush off the tension that filled you. You were looking for an opening, trying to leave without being awkward.

“I guess they did.” Nanami rubs the side of his neck with a large hand before fixing his hazel eyes on you. “How have you been?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nod casually. “I’ve been good. Busy.”

“Mhm. So I’ve heard. You took on so many missions that you were barely in Tokyo at all for the past few months.”

“I needed the change of scenery. Went to a lot of nice places actually.”

“And met a lot of nice people?” he asks quietly, eyes flickering with uncertainty.

Your chest tightens. It was none of his business, really, but you’re helpless as you spill the truth. “No. Work doesn’t really leave much room for dating. It doesn’t leave room for a lot of things.” You added, unable to keep a tinge of insinuation out of your voice.

He picks up on this and looks away. “Y/n…It’s been hard. Since we broke up.” The words are said with regret and your breath catches in your throat. “I…I want a second chance. I made a mistake.” 

His words are said so simply. He wasn’t one for flair and big declarations. You knew that. Nanami was a man of action. He did things. Things that pulled on your feelings, things that made you feel like he cared, even after he had broken up with you. 

“What changed?” You ask, not daring to let yourself hope.

“It just…doesn’t feel right without you. I need you. It feels like I’ve been wandering and didn’t have a home. Home isn’t home when you’re not there.”

Tears prick your eyes. He moves closer to you and before you know it, you’re in his embrace. 

“Well?” he whispers in your ears, but it’s clear he’s about to crack. 

You nod against him, cherry blossoms swirling down like little falling stars around you, everything you wanted finally coming true. 

All animated lines and banners by @/ cafekitsune

#nanami kento #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento fluff #nanamin #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk nanami #nanami fluff #nanami cuteness #vee writes #nanami kento angst #nanami kento jjk #unconventional flowers event

[natalievoncatte]

Lena was in the dark in more ways than one.

The lights in her penthouse were all dark save one, a night light in her en suite to ensure that she didn’t take a fall if she got up. Swirling the edge of a migraine, she’s grown tired of an again-delayed product launch and the hoary halls of power and their patriarchs. Few things frustrated her more than the spiteful condescension of old men clinging to a world with all the success of a man trying to gather all the sand in a desert through chapped fingers.

Few things annoyed her more.

One of those things, she could give no name. Since Lena had realized Kara’s identity, things had been tense between them. Mostly in a pleasant way; they had been feeling out this new normal, Kara tentatively broaching this or that topic to add to brunch chats and lunchtime gossip.

“Oh,” she’d say, “that last alien hit pretty hard,” as if being knocked clean through a fertilizer plant by a blow to the head were part of her commute.

To Lena it was all new, but there was something else with it. Something neither of them dared to name, some friable, delicate new shape that they could only feel by its edges. It began with Kara bombarding Lena with friendship. Fresh breakfasts hand-delivered at hypersonic speeds. Daily lunches. For the last month, Kara had spent every weekend at Lena’s, or vice versa.

Lena’s penthouse had a guest bedroom. Kara’s place had a bed and a sofa. Comfy, but it was no bed. That was how the dance began. The first steps were hesitant, the dancers circling each other without breaking the barrier. A token argument about who gets the bed, only for them both to share it. And once they’d shared it at Kara’s place, it made no sense for Lena to confine a living space heater to the guest room.

They didn’t discuss, or analyze, or talk it out. No boundaries were ever set, and so the dance continued. What started as two people curled up in a big king bed on opposite sides became the pair of them entangling during the night, then skipping the pretext and curling up with each other before the lights went out.

It was driving Lena insane. Kara never pushed, not really, and yet it just seemed to happen. It was as if her best friend was daring her to take the initiative. The morning when Lena awoke to find Kara’s arm protectively curled about her waist, her thumb hooked on the waistband of Lena’s lounge pants, she’d almost turned over and said something.

The excuse she made was that Kara needed her sleep after the pummeling she’d taken that afternoon. That Lena enjoyed how Kara grazed the pad of her thumb over Lena’s hip bone was incidental.

Lying in the dark, Lena knew that Kara had arrived by the sound of the balcony door opening and didn’t bother to call out to her. Still dressed in her suit, Kara peeked into the bedroom, her movements tentative, somehow almost birdlike.

She came back a moment later with a cool, damp cloth for Lena’s forehead and a few murmured questions, before excusing herself.

“Darling, you can stay,” Lena sighed. “I want you to.”

“Okay,” Kara whispered back, lightly seeping stray curls from Lena’s eyes. “I need to change. No peeking.”

And why would you be worried I’ll peek? Lena thought. A platonic Best Friend isn’t going to peek. Best friends don’t do that, just like they don’t nuzzle into each other on the couch. If Lena were Kara’s best friend, then Lena wouldn’t be looking so much, so openly. Admiring Kara’s smile and her biceps and the way her abdominal muscles strained those button-downs.

She wouldn’t be thinking so much about the touches, the way she’d sat in Kara’s lap for hours at a time or how Kara had carried her to bed or how Supergirl had lingered to cradle her post-rescue, well past the point of safety.

Lena wasn’t aware she was peeking until she’s already started. Kara’s suit had taken care of itself; it was her work clothes she needed to discard. When Lena turned over, there was the broad expanse of Kara’s beautifully muscled back, flexing deliciously as she pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms.

Because Kara kept multiple sets of PJs at Lena’s place.

In Lena’s bedroom.

Because this wasn’t the first time this had happened.

Lena turned back, knowing with certainty that Kara knew. She must have heard the creaking of the mattress and the soft whisper of skin on silk sheets and the rapidity if Lena’s traitorous heart.

When Kara climbed in with Lena, the world shrank around the pair of them. Kara swept immediately to the boundary tonight, gathering Lena in her arms, hands finding spots just on this side of chaste, and their bodies molded together.

Lena was finally able to get some sleep.

When she awoke, later, Kara stirred with her.

“Zhao,” Kara muttered.

Lena froze, blinking in the dark. That wasn’t a nonsense word; it was Kryptonian.

“Come back. Zhao,” Kara muttered, as Lena stirred. She didn’t seem to be properly waking.

A nickname?

Lena couldn’t remember when she’d started calling Kara Darling, though she increasingly wished she had.

Dear diary, it was on this day at this date that I admitted my feelings to myself before wrapping them in cardboard and then in concrete and then in steel before shoving them somewhere deep down.

Kara, for her part, had tried a few pet names but most were one offs, never quite fitting. She’d even called Lena “buddy” once before Lena had cut that shit off with an arched brow.

Lena stilled. She could deny Kara nothing, and so drifted off to sleep.

By some quirk of fate, they woke almost at the same time. Lena was still groggy and bleary-eyed when Kara’s sky-blues flitted open, bringing more light than the sun itself. She shifted in the bed without letting Lena go and began to murmur something in Kryptonian, cutting herself off as that last sharp, buzzing word tumbled from her lips.

The only world froze. Kara stared at Lena with wide eyes, and the sudden tension between them made both women go rigid, neither willing to move, to break it.

“You called me that in your sleep,” Lena finally whispered. “Zhao. What does it mean?”

Kara was unusually pale.

“Oh, it’s sort of a term of endearment in Kryptonian. It means, um, ah…”

Lena sighed, cracking a soft smile. “Kara, I’m not fluent by any measure, but I know enough Kryptonian to know what Zhao means.”

“Oh,” Kara whispered, barely more than a short and sharp exhale.

“Even if I didn’t,” Lena whispered, locking eyes with her. “Your hand is literally on my ass right now.”

“Oh. Um. Golly. I’m sorry, I…”

Kara started to pull back. Lena gently took hold of Kara’s wrist and held her hand there. Her heart fluttered not only at the strength in Kara’s forearm but how those steel cable muscles went slack beneath her touch.

Lena swiveled her hips.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Kara whispered.

“Oh, trust me, I’ve got that covered,” said Lena.

Kara shivered. “No, I mean… I don’t know what to…” She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing.

Lena pressed in closer, until the space between them was more a theoretical concept than an actuality.

“Just say what you want to say.”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Lena snorted a laugh, briefly ashamed at her inner dork, and afraid that Kara would take offense.

“Kara, you’ve been sleeping over every weekend with your hand in my pants for months. Yes, I will be your girlfriend.”

Kara grinned, starting to sit up.

“Come on, zhao,” said Kara.

Giving their partner a nickname/having their partner give them a nickname.

#prompt #supergirl fanfiction #supercorp #supercorp fanfic #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #ficlet #these are turning into random vignettes from their life together #waff #pointless waff #fluff #fluff with just the tiniest taste of angst #a little angst in the fluff is like salt in the pasta water #a little angst… as a treat

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Hello, I have seen some of your works and have enjoyed each of them, and after seeing that you are still accepting request I was wondering if you would consider a Yandere Arlecchino with a pastry Chef reader, a slight spoiler for the Archon Quest is that she seems to like sweets a great deal, perhaps the reader is oblivious to her yandere antics and simply enjoys making sweets for her and her children.

Or perhaps a Yandere Arlecchino with her children being platonic yanderes that want their "Father" and the one they love to be together, and as such they try and play matchmaker with her and the reader.

Either way, I hope you like the ideas, and that you stay safe and take care.

P.S. Here is just a brainrot for you, but imagine Platonic Yandere Arlecchino not only vetting Lynette's love interest, but also helping her get together with them once she starts to approve of them.

i could platonically put you in my mouth and crunch on you like a jolly rancher, thank you for this amazing idea, i could write about this endlessly but i didn't want to get too long <3333 pls request more of this so i can write more in the future

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including implied stalking, intentional increase of Fatui members, delusional behaviors, implied trickery of reader, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Arlecchino with a pastry chef beloved would be a very interesting concept! You, as the pasty maker, would notice a sudden influx of Fatui members in your once quaint little cafe. The upside is that sales had been through the roof and no trouble seemed to linger anymore, the downside was that most locals had been too nervous to stay around for long, often ordering and leaving or coming in for a pick-up before leaving. It was alright though, one delightful woman always seemed to stick around for a chat!

A sigh of content left your lips as you closed up shop for the night. It had been a long day with many desserts having been made but you managed it as always. It wasn’t until you were headed to the front of the store to lock the doors that you noticed her standing out front, patiently and politely. A pleasant smile crossed her face as she saw you, raising a delicate, gloved hand to offer you a polite smile. “I know you’re closed but I just wanted to come say hi. I had more work than I thought I would today and wasn’t able to make it before closing.” She was as polite and well-mannered as always, something you had admired about her. People around town spoke of her being part of the Fatui but you couldn’t really see it. Sure her outfit seemed a little strange but she was too kind to be evil. She was always so nice and polite, she spoke so well-mannered and always left a generous tip. It was hard to see someone so perfect being diabolical. She had simply come off as the perfect person to be around.

#genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x male reader #yandere genshin x gender neutral reader #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x male reader #arlecchino x gender neutral reader #yandere arlecchino x reader #yandere arlecchino x male reader #yandere arlecchino x gender neutral reader #yandere genshin #genshin yandere #yandere arlecchino #arlecchino yandere

[madsnowstorm]

everything | j. seresin

beyond - leon bridges ft. luke combs

summary : jake loves weddings. you hate them. shared revelations might just change your opinion

warnings - 18+, fem!reader, established relationship, FLUFF. so much fluff. not beta'd,

notes — happy valentine's day! here is a sickly sweet one for @roosterforme's 'love is in the air' challenge. like, so sweet.

Jake loved weddings. He always enjoyed a good reason to dress up, hair gelled just right and cufflinks perfectly in place. If he happened to be in Texas he’d have on his favorite pair of boots and a bolo tie. He loved dancing at the receptions. It didn’t matter if there was a live band or a DJ, Jake was always out on the dance floor. This was especially if there was line dancing involved. Then there was the cake. Jake’s one weakness in life was wedding cake. He could turn down any cookie, pie, or ice cream cone shoved in his face…But wedding cake? There was no holding him back…Except today, at this wedding, he could only focus on one thing. You.

You were sitting at a table that was right off the dancefloor. One shapely leg was thrown over the other, peeking out of the slit of your burgundy bridesmaid dress. Your bare foot was bouncing to the music and your eyes were trained on the bride and groom who were sharing their first dance. Jake’s eyes traveled quickly to Javy and his new wife, his childhood sweetheart, Leah, as they swayed to the rhythm. They did not care that over one hundred people were staring them down. The only thing capturing their attention was their partner. Jake only looked at them for a moment longer before letting his gaze drift back to you. His eyes were drawn to how soft and bright your skin looked. You looked soft and supple.He wanted to glide his hands over your bare shoulders and down your back. You were radiant...Like the sun. And he wanted to put that shit in a bottle and tuck it in his pocket.

God. You were so fucking beautiful. 

Funnily enough the two of you met at another wedding months ago. One of Javy’s and Leah’s friends from their youth was getting married and Leah was a part of the bridal party. Javy didn’t want to be alone and knowing that Jake was down to crash any wedding, brought the blond along. Jake wished he could say that he noticed you the moment you walked into the large event space. He wished he could tell you that he’d gotten tunnel vision when he saw you walking towards him. Wished that he could drone on and on to his future grandchildren about how the moment your eyes met his, he knew you were the one.

No. That didn’t happen. In fact, you were late to the ceremony and snuck in next to Javy. Javy’s body shook with laughter as you raised your hand in an awkward wave, cringing. Seconds later the ceremony started and his attention turned from you to the ceremony. He actually forgot that you were there until the ceremony was over and Javy was introducing you both. As you both sipped on drinks of your choice while the event space was being converted for the reception, the topic of work. You were extremely uninterested in the fact that he was a naval aviator. He attributed that to you knowing Javy for so long, but it did stump him a little bit. 

As he talked with you, he found himself trying to impress you. He wanted to make you smile, to make you laugh. He wanted to see you after this. It was different than it normally was. Typically when he left weddings he was going back to some hotel room with a girl on his arm and a pleasant buzz, and was gone by the next morning. You, though? You left before they even served the wedding cake, mentioning something about it getting late after looking at the delicate gold watch on your wrist. Jake did not understand. How could someone leave before having at least one slice of cake? 

In the moments it took for him to try and wrap his head around that unfathomable act, you’d made it to the parking lot. It only took a few moments for the blond to catch up to you, yelling your name and waving his hand to grab your attention. Standing by your compact SUV, he all but begged for your number. He could tell by the way you bit your bottom lip that you weren’t entirely sure about him. He was willing to let you go, but just as quick as you decided to leave, you also decided to give him a chance. Numbers were exchanged and drinks were planned.

Five months later led you to where you were today; you happily watching your friends on the dance floor and Jake longingly watching you. The song the band was currently playing transitioned into another. This song had a slightly peppier sound, but still had a slow rhythm. 

“The bride and groom would love to invite you to grab a partner and join them on the dance floor!” The lead singer announced before they began singing.

Jake made his way over to you, dodging people who were now walking around. Some were headed to the dancefloor, while others looked to be grabbing sweet snacks or drinks. There were some older couples that chose to stay seated, enjoying the sight of young love.  Your eyes were still on your friends, but now your body was beginning to sway with the new song. Jake thought that was good, because it meant it would not take much convincing to get you out on the dance floor. As Jake walked closer, he watched your eyes move from Javy and Leah, to him. Your smile widened and his heart stuttered.

__

You hated weddings. They were expensive and uncomfortable. The wedding industry was practically a crime against humanity and you could think of a million different things that could be purchased for the cost of a wedding. The food was never good and the wedding cake was always bland and usually dry. The only thing you could slightly be on board with were weddings that had an open bar. Leah was one of your childhood friends and it was only because you loved her and valued her friendship that you adopted the motto grin and bear it when you accepted the offer to be a bridesmaid. It also helped that Jake was just as much of this process as you were. 

He was the exact opposite of you. The man adored any reason to celebrate, weddings included. In moments he knew you were overwhelmed or just completely done with all the pomp and circumstance, he would always find a way to put a little joy in your heart. A wink here, a flirty touch there. Your boyfriend almost made you forget that you hated weddings.

“M’lady,” He asked, appearing behind you. You looked over your shoulder and basked in the beauty of the man in his dress whites. While he was far from the only one dressed in his military regalia, he was most certainly the best looking. Your gut filled with anticipation for what was going to come after the wedding. “Can I have this dance?” You lifted your finger to your chin, tapping it as though you were deep in contemplation. 

“I’m sorry, but I-” Jake didn’t let you finish your joke. He grabbed your free hand which was draped over your chair and pulled you up. It was clear the dance floor was his destination.

Other couples were swaying around the tiled door. You caught Leah’s eye and she smiled at you. Your friend looked beyond happy and incredibly in love. You were happy for her and Javy and wished them nothing but the best. Jake pulled you close as you took your spot near your friends. One hand was heavy on your hip, the other grasping one of yours. He held it close to his heart, letting both your hands rest on his chest.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” He remarked.

“Hmmm, maybe once or twice.” It was more than that. All throughout wedding party pictures he kept whispering compliments and promises in your ear. He made you feel like the most beautiful creature to have walked the earth. You could feel the rumble of a chuckle under the back of your hand.

“Anyone ever mention how funny you are?” It was now your turn to laugh. Jake’s only response was to shake his head. He got quiet for a moment, before asking another question. “Do you want to get married?” The question took you off guard, causing you to step on Jake’s toes.

“Are you proposing?” You hoped he couldn’t hear the nerves in your voice. The two of you had not talked about the future, completely fine to move at the snail's pace you’d been at.

“No, not at all.” Jake shook his head. “I just meant in general. Do you want to get married?” Was this really the time? Your heart was beating heavily against your chest. It wouldn’t be surprising if Jake could feel it.

“Do you want to get married?” Was your coy response.

“Don’t deflect. It’s a simple question.” Jake was an arrogant guy. It was one of the first things you noticed about him. He typically spoke with a teasing tone, but there was no hint of it now. He was serious. 

“Married to you or just married?” You matched his tone. This time you weren’t being playful and you needed this clarification  before you gave yours.

“Married to me.”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation, but the words left your mouth without permission. Part of you was scared that your feelings about the future wouldn’t be reciprocated. “Do you want to get married to me?” It was his turn for honesty, but as your eyes roamed over his face you knew your mind could not prepare you for his answer.

“I want everything with you, Darlin’.”

“Jake…” His name was no more than a whisper on your lips.

“I’m sorry if that is too early or if that scares you , but it’s the truth. I want marriage, yes, but I want you to meet my family. I want to make a family. I want a dog and a house. I want someone to come home at the end of hard days and long deployments. I want everything.” The only way you knew how to react was physically. As your lips met his, you didn’t have a single care about all the people around you.

“I love you.”

“I know, who doesn’t?” Your eyes narrowed and you pinched his hip. He playfully yelped. “Did I say that? I meant to say that I love you too.”

Maybe weddings weren’t so bad, after all.

#love is in the air tgm #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman fic #hangman imagine #hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #hangman x f!reader #jake hangman seresin x f!reader #jake seresin fluff #hangman fluff #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman imagine #tgm imagine #top gun maverick imagine #jake seresin fic

[itzvintagevibez]

Hi! I hope you're doing amazing! I saw your requests are open soooo I'm wondering if i can request a Lady Lesso x Fem!Reader? With a prompt where "Lesso gets into a heated argument with someone. Then Lesso begins threatening them so Y/N,picks up Lesso and carries/drag her out of the room before anyone gets hurt" Thank you!!! 😘

hey @anonymous this is for you! xoxo

[And it's funny cause i feel like Y/n would constantly have to drag Lady Lesso all the time cause she'd probably be arguing with someone..75% of every passing day.]

I kinda went off topic but hope it's good :)

Lady Leonora Lesso - Perverts

The week hasn't even gone by yet and already some students have managed to put you in a bad mood. Leonora noticed this when you angrily charged into your shared bedroom fuming with literal rage, strong enough to possibly murder a person. The multiple cusses leaving your mouth were insanely inappropriate but you didn't care and neither did Leonora. She particularly loved this side of you, the one which could reck an entire building to the ground or better three instead of just one.

Setting down her book onto the bedside table and placing her glasses on top of them, Leonora slowly approaches you, even if you were mildly turning each and every part of her on your rage was scary enough to scare the dean of evil herself. "Darling, Love, I'm gonna need you to relax." She says placing her hands out for you to take which you gladly accept. "Now tell me, what happened? Do I need to go for a murder spree or is it just one idiot that needs to be taught a lesson?". Her soft hands delicately rub your back as she embraces you in a supportive hug. "School...f-for...g-good."

Apparently you sprinted your way here to the School for Evil all the way from that of good. "What were you doing at that horrible school?". "Clarissa...a-and Emma," a confused look spreads across Leonora's face. "I'm not sure how I could get rid of Clarissa considering her position as the dean of good and Anemone would be a bit easier but she seems like she knows how to do martial arts," an even more confused face appears on Y/n's face. "What?". "You're right, she does know martial arts doesn't she?". "What? Leonora what are you talking about?" You say pulling away from the hug while looking at your wife with confused eyes and she had the same. "You said Clarissa and Anemone?". "Yeah because I was in a meeting with them this morning before I had a rather unpleasant experience which is why I'm mad." "Oh, then what happened?". Your eyes dilated. You were angry again and this time was worse. Leonora let go of your hands wincing in pain. Your hands were boiling hot meaning you would soon turn on fire, perks of being the daughter of Hades.

"Okay, you're boiling hot, literally and I'm not just talking about you're sexiness. Come on, let's get you to the tub." Leonora carries you throwing you over her shoulder. "Let me go," you shout struggling to get out of Leonora's strong grip. "No." Leonora says writhing in agony as your skin heats up. "F-fuck." Leonora tries to catch her breath after placing you in the bathtub. Using her magic she takes off her coat, vest and shirt and remains in her suit pants and bra trying to cool herself off. Now it was your turn to cool off, she takes off your clothing and places it into a laundry basket in the bathroom and adds cold water into the tub. "Mhm." A moan of relief escapes your lips as the cold water cools you down. "Thank you, Leo." You say resting your head at the end of the bath and putting your hands on the sides. Leonora comes down to your level kneeling on her knees. "Your welcome, Darling, now rest I'll get you out when your body temperature reaches normal okay?" a nod was all you gave her including a soft smile as you closed your eyes. Within a few seconds you were out cool, as in asleep. Leonora places her hand onto your forehead and after a while she decided to get you into some changed clothes and into bed. Shortly after she did that she placed a small kiss onto your lips before putting on a different shirt and vest and leaving the room.

Four hours have passed and it's lunch time. You missed all your lessons for today but you didn't necessarily care, the Nevers don't need to learn how defend themselves from Evers in battle using potions anyway, there's always the next lesson. Looking around you couldn't see Leonora anywhere, she probably went to fetch lunch. Getting up you put your shoes on before making your way to the School for Good for lunch. Approaching the staff room you hear a frantic Clarissa on the other side of the door. What gossip is gonna happen between her and Leonora today? You wondered to yourself before taking a deep breath then exhaling. Opening the door you met with gazes from all the professors including the headmaster himself who was surprisingly present for the first time since the last two months.

Your eyes glance over to Clarissa then to Leonora's seat which was empty. That's odd, You thought to yourself. A cough brings you out of your thoughts and this time your eyes meet that of the headmaster who urges you to take a seat on my chair which was next to Leonora's. Following his instructions you sit down and the professors still had their gazes on you so you flashed them your purple flame that sparked on your hair and they all looked away in fear of getting roasted. "Y/n, have you seen Leonora by any chance?" "Um, no, when I left our quarters she was nowhere to be scene." The headmaster adjusts his glasses before continuing. "Well you see, Clarissa exclaims that one of her students is missing and Leonora is the suspect." You glance at Dovey, who had a worried expression on her face, and a perplexed expression crosses yours.

"Why would Leonora kidnap an Ever student? She doesn't even fancy the School for Good, what would've been her motive to do all this?" You inquire as your fury steadily builds within of you. "I remember how before you left, in the morning, you told me that one of my students had sexualized you and you ended up storming away in utter rage." Clarissa exclaims and you try to read in between the lines for any other information before nodding your head, understanding what she was saying but not fully grasping on her words. "Yeah and what?" Clarissa sighs before continuing. "Y/n, that same student is missing and I have reason to believe that Leonora's behind it." "Leonora couldn't be behind this, I never even told her what happened." You respond defensively in an effort to defend your wife, who was not present to speak for herself. The headmaster started to speak up, "Y/n, when you arrived did Leonora touch you in any way? Like maybe a hug, or on the hand, leg? Anywhere?" "Yes, when I arrived she held my hands." As you come to the realization that Leonora read your mind, your voice falters.

Opening the door to her office, you couldn't spot your redheaded wife. You asked several guards and each of them either told you that they were given a command not to tell you or they didn't know. You had just about given up when you heard a loud sharp scream coming from below. You thought is just the Nevers being Nevers but the scream came again and you realised that it was too high pitched to be a Never's scream. After rushing down the stairs, you arrived at the door and pulled the lever to open it. There she was, with her axe right on the Everboy's neck and devil smirk across her lips.

"Leonora." You called out and her attention turns to you and she has a stunned look on her face. You walk towards her and take the axe out of her arm. "What are you doing here?" Leonora asks you and you scoff. "Me? What are YOU doing? Leonora you could get fired from here, even worse banished by the school board." "You can't expect me to let go off the fact that this snob prince tried to put his hands all over you." "But he didn't since you read my mind you would know that." "Did I? May bad." She says sending a sarcastic smile to you and you respond back with an eye roll. "I'm serious, Leo, I couldn't lost you to prison, or death." Now Leonora's eyes showed a hint of sympathy, it wasn't her intention to hurt you, she wanted to avenge for you. Taking the axe out of your hand she places it on the ground and wraps her arms round you. "I'm sorry, Darling, I didn't want to hurt you, all I wanted was you get revenge for you." You pull away slightly from the hug and place a soft passionate kiss on her lips which she happily responds to. "I know and I appreciate how much you care for me, so could you please let this dickhead go so we can have some fun for the rest of the day?" Leonora laughs at your insult and reluctantly agrees. Personally, if it wasn't for Clarissa you would've let Leonora continue to do whatever she was gonna do, he deserves it anyway.

The sound of chains falling to the ground brings you out of your thoughts and you see the disgusting prince getting up from the chair rubbing his wrists and whining in pain. "Ouch it hurts." Rolling her eyes, Leonora just pushes him forward to leave. "Yeah, yeah go cry about it to your daddy, oh wait, you can't you have daddy issues." The Everboy just runs in tears but not before you trip him with your feet and kick him hard in the stomach. "Oops, my bad." After a while he finally leaves. "You know we're gonna receive an ear full from Clarissa." You say wrapping your arms around your wife's neck, placing a kiss on her lips. "Don't worry I told him earlier that if he says a word, the boogeymen will come after him." You both burst into laughter before cooling down. "Dumb Evers." You say walking out of the room hand in hand with Leonora.

"What is this room anyway?" "The Doom Room." "It's real? All this time I thought it was just a myth." "Well now you know, and maybe one day we could come here and have a good time." You playfully hit her shoulder. "What? This room is not only adequate for punishing students but punishing naughty wives too." "Oh really?" "Mhm." "Will just have to see about that. Closing the door behind you, you both climb about the stairs before reaching Leonora's office and spending the day talking, laughing and reading while drinking some glasses of wine.

#school for good and evil #lady lesso x fem #gxglesbianlgbt #leonora lesso #fem reader #lady lesso #lgbtq #lesbian #little tease #lady lesso x you #lady lesso x reader #lady lesso imagine #lady leonora lesso #gxg #female x female #fun flirt #fluff #fem x fem #female x reader #lady lesso x female reader #charlize theron x female reader #charlize theron x reader #charlizeafrica #charlize theron #one shot #school of good #school of evil #the school for and evil #daughter of Hades #clarissa dovey

[eloeloanna]

What did happen between John and Paul in India?

This was made for entertainment purposes only. Don’t sue me Paul (or Yoko (or Sean).

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Check my readings! Did McLennon ever happened here What John thought about Paul here What Paul thought about John - part 1 here | part 2 here What happened between John and Paul in Paris here What John thought of Paul's appeareance here What Paul thought of John's appeareance here John's feelings + In my life + Paris' tea here Paul's feelings + Paris' tea here Was Paul jealous of Stuart? here Was John jealous of Tara? here Was Paul jealous of Cynthia? here Relationship - questions related to that topic here What happened between John and Paul in Keywest 1964 here George's pov here MORE here

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Some notes:

Please don’t be dumb and harass the people mentioned in this interpretation. If you have the information - you have it, good. Enjoy their love in the fandom ❤️ do your fics, do your art.

I know that this is not everybody, but I feel we are dealing with very delicate matters.

It took me a lot of days doing this because I didn’t want to sound like a fic. I know many people have their theories, even myself! So that’s why I repeated some questions, and did it in different days. Also, I didn’t read the answers, so when something matches, it’s surprising even for me.

That’s all. Now, enjoy!

_

Answer 1:

What the cards are telling me at the beginning, is that this trip was made to do something about a relationship. It had been very difficult to try to continue, since there was a feeling that someone was very confident, opposed to someone very depressed. The depressed one didn’t know what to do anymore because he needed a sense of stability, security. He felt that this wasn’t enough, and even that the other one was mocking him, for his neediness. I think this person couldn’t see objectively at all what was happening, because, even If was part truth what he thought, the thing is, it wasn’t “that” big.

I think he tried for once to be really honest and just ask what was this all about. “Do you love me?”. I think the answer didn’t come immediately. And wasn’t even satisfying. I think the other part thought that he say it back, but he didn’t properly. So there was this part that thought that was being fooled, and the other one that thought that everything was okay. I think the “depressed” one thought something like “anyway, I knew this would happen”, and tried very hard to don’t have any feelings, and just “enjoyed” the trip. I think then is when he thought “I need to do something”. It was like that moment put him back in order to do new things. This was a decision for his own happiness. “I’m going to fall in love with her”. What are telling me the cards after is how he stuck with his decision, even if it wasn’t the best. The other part is showed at the end. Knowing that he can’t do anything about it.

Answer 2:

I think that at the beginning was a sensation of something not being complete. That some of them wanted more, that the relationship wasn’t balanced. He wanted to do something about it, but he couldn’t do it. “We have to left all bullshit aside, to have the relationship we really want” , to leave the imbalances behind, but I can’t face the truth. Even when the truth is very obvious. It’s difficult to face the truth when there are things that escape our control, and we know that this always is going to be like this. But even with those feelings, he decided anyways to say what he wanted, and thought that everything would be good. So he did it. But it was “good” for a short time. Then everything went to hell. It’s like all this closeness was virtual. Was this proposition reciprocated? Yes. Could be fulfilled? No. The thing is, this person felt tricked, and it was like “I have nothing to do here” “Is he even regretting his attitude?” “Well, I DON’T regret it what happened, but I did so much to receive nothing” “You never loved me” “I’m going to be happy. WITHOUT YOU. I don’t care. I will fight for it”. He didn’t care if he felt confused, or trapped, or whatever would happen. He would do what he needed to do.

Why John felt depressed before going to India?

I forgot to take a picture here…sorry!

I think John felt depressed because he could see clearly the future: he could see himself being happy, with love, with opportunities, but at the same time, his reality was heavy: he felt abandoned, incapable of doing things, and even betrayed. I think it was difficult for him to forget that “betrayal”, and tried to tell (Paul) what he thought. I think the answer was the same as before. “Everything is okay”. I think John eventually thought that this wasn’t enough. The relationship was imbalanced, Paul was being arrogant. It was very difficult to even think what to do, because in a way, he felt happy. I think he couldn’t see that Paul actually loved him.

Is the “betrayal” that John felt about Paul marrying Jane?

I think some of his depression was because of that event.

The cards start telling me about the feeling of not wanting to change anything, and even ignoring the signs: he thought that from the most part Paul wasn’t serious with Jane, but he saw how his attitude changed. He was more considerate and present in her life. I also think John intuitively knew that what Paul wanted. He wanted to construct something. Did John say or did anything about this? No. I think he just let those thoughts cold and tried to “enjoy” their time. “Everything is going to be alright”. Until eventually it wasn’t. He couldn’t stand the feeling of changing. It was like he was standing behind a door, but not wanting to open it. I think when Paul proposed to Jane, it wasn’t a “serious” commitment proposal. But in John’s head was a bigger issue. John was heartbroken. He thought that having somebody else would soft his feelings, but it didn’t.

It’s very weird, because, when I answered this question, for me it wasn’t like this was the “bigger” issue. Was an issue? Yes. But not the main one.

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A lot of theories said that what “ruined” Paul and John’s relationship in India was sex. So I asked about that multiple times, because as I said, I didn’t want it to sound like a fan fiction.

Was India the first time they had something sexual?

I think yes.

The cards start telling about how much they wanted this to happen, but they couldn’t because they thought they needed to use their heads. After some time and reflection, they thought that what they had wasn’t enough, they wanted more. But the thing is, it had to pass a lot of time until they realised that wanting something more for the other, wasn’t wrong, after all, they loved each other, right? But the thing is, there was a fear of almost losing yourself in the other person. “What is he going to do with me?” When the opportunity occurred, it changed everything. There was a immediate feeling of guilty, also, it trigger their self-defenses (one was like “are you sure?”, the other was “yes, but we need to be careful”); I think at the beginning there was absolutely feelings of passion and satisfaction, but one of the parts knew it wasn’t real, it was something that was happening in like, a bubble. In the outside world, they would still be old John and Paul. I think that one of the parts couldn’t see clearly, was the love that the other had for him, or maybe, he saw it, but it was too much. Any of the options made the “loving” part heartbroken.

Did they had a sexual encounter before India?

Yes, but I would say it wasn’t that important as India. Why?

What the cards start telling is that there was a proposal to do something, but the other part wasn’t very sure. He thought that somebody could caught them, something bad could happen. But it isn’t like he didn’t like the idea. He liked the idea very much. There was suddenly a moment were they could do something, but it had to be very quickly, very secret. It wasn’t enough. They obviously wanted more, but how they could do that? There was an opportunity when everything they wanted happened, but also, they had to leave it. I think at that part, the cards are talking about India.

Did J and P have more sexual encounters?

Yes. I can’t know about how many times, but I found interesting, that the cards are telling me about a particular time.

What the cards are telling me at the beginning, is the desire that they felt, a desire that had to be controlled, no matter how much love they felt. I think one of them was very eager to have something, even very sure that he wanted it, but the other part told him that he needed to think more about these things, “you need to remember what we are/ we are just bandmates”, so the other part “regretted it”. It had to pass some time until another proposal came. I don’t know If it was the same person, but this time, the answer was something like “I don’t know about it, what is she going to say?”, but after some time agreed. They had their good time, but immediately overthought about the moment. The one of the proposal thought that this would fix everything, but It didn’t. So he felt like a fool, while the other thought that now HE had the power.

The one that did the proposal felt very depressed, because even when he liked what it happened, he also felt love for him. When this happened, the one that did the proposal decided to work on himself. Be happy (without him).

___

Others

What did John expect from Paul in India?

I think what John expected of Paul in India was some prove that this was actually “something”. What I mean is, that at the beginning of this trip, John have actually reflected about their relationship, and was very sure about what he felt. John thought a lot of how to talk to Paul about this. The thing is, the answer that he received wasn’t what he expected at all. He really thought that this trip would mean a new beginning.

What did Paul think that happened between him and John in India?

I think when John told him what he thought, Paul felt he received what he always wanted. But at the same time, it made him very unhappy. I think it has to be because of the (ALLEGED) internal homophobia that he felt, but it was very hard to say something, even when he felt the same. So he almost acted like nothing happened, but really tried to get any chance he could to be with John. Worst was when they did have a very good time, but he couldn’t say anything. He thought that, maybe being this close physically would be enough for John, but it wasn’t . He noticed that John was “weird”, but didn’t confront him about it. Paul felt miserable, because John didn’t seem to be interested anymore.

What did Paul think that would happen between him and John in India?

I forgot to take a picture here…sorry!

I think Paul just expected to renew the relationship, in a way that everything would be good. The current state of the relationship for him was difficult, but he didn’t know how to act. It was like everytime he tried to do something, he couldn’t. And when he tried, it was shit. So yeah, I don’t think Paul even expected what would happen 🥲.

How did Paul feel when John told him that he loved him?

I think at first, Paul thought that this was some kind of a cruel joke from the destiny. Because he liked what he experienced. But didn’t know what to do about it. He surely knew that he would never forget it.

In his mind was the happiness of knowing that he was loved, but also, didn’t act on it, since he knew he had to think about anything else. There was some promises he made, some rules to follow, things that would made his life “happier” and “easier”, but I also think there was fear, lots of fear to start something new, something so delicate and pure. I think he knew that this would be very difficult, and them, even when they could love each other so much, would never “normally” work. It would never be enough. But that doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t try to do something, the thing is, it seems that was too late.

_________

I hope you like this one. I really tried to do it more “real”, even when a lot of these interpretations match with theories. I found it fascinating.

Thank you very much for your support ❤️

#mclennon #tarot readings #john and paul #India #now you know what however absurd is about #😭

[peachywritess]

Unmei | OT7

bangtan (OT7) x fem!reader

01 - what i need...

☁️ unmei – 運命 (うんめい): a noun meaning 'fate' or 'destiny' in Japanese. ☁️ genre: royal!AU, OT7!AU, reincarnation!AU ; smut (eventually), angst. ☁️ Unmei will deal with very delicate and quite dark themes, so please if you are a minor, DO NOT interact. I will always put a trigger warning at the start of every chapter, so if you feel unconfortable DO NOT read. ☁️ ☁️ author's note: hello lovelies, author here! "unmei" has been in my head for a while, and i kept thinking about shaping my thoughts into words; i do realise that this story, per se, is quite ambitious but i really hope you will enjoy reading it. ☁️ chapter's TW: panick attack, mentions of death (side character). ☁️ word count: 3,5k

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☁️ taglist @shabbamadapot @jnghs

! disclaimer - This story is a work of fiction. I do not own BTS and the description of them in this story does not want to reflect nor portray them in real life.

Crystal chandeliers, shining glasses of the finest wine, and chords intoning classical melodies. Fingers intertwining as gowns kept swaying, strangers chattering about politics, war, and sometimes about passions, literature, and secrets… 

Overly-dressed up women, whose make-up was classy and whose voices were soft, whispered into each other’s ears as young men passed by.

The high society, the aristocracy - the world you were fated to be born in and to live in.

The corset you wore was too tight on your abdomen since you could not eat more of the cake. You always finished dessert - and the sponge cake had strawberries inside, so this was very unlike you. You were sitting down - back straight and shoulders relaxed as your mother had taught you - while the other young women danced in the hall. You could also see your father talking to another short, long-bearded man, and you had hoped the topic was indeed not you.

That was the first, and probably the last, time you had agreed to accompany your father to a Grand Ball; he perfectly knew you didn’t fancy celebrations or big events, but he had insisted so much over the past month your mother had begged you to go with him.

“Just this once, darling. You know how men are, especially your Father!”

You had convinced yourself it was part of her plan to finally get rid of him for a night. Even the Queens needed a day off, and you were aware of your father’s antics: the King was really needy, and loved being taken care of… Just like a boy.

Nevertheless, you could no longer lie to yourself: you strongly suspected something else had led your father to this event. You had just turned twenty-one years old, so you were still too young to marry, weren’t you?

A few months before your birthday, your father had requested to speak to you about an important topic concerning the crown, and you knew that he wished for you to find a man to marry, so that you could inherit his place on the throne. However, as soon as the word arranged left his lips, you had already stormed off. You were not going to spend the rest of your days with someone you barely knew, and didn’t like.

After that discussion. your father never brought up the matter publicly, but you perfectly knew he had already informed your mother about it. To you, it wasn’t fair: they had married for love, and not for the crown. Their marriage was not decided by someone else aside from them, so you thought you deserved the same treatment they got when they were young.

What your father did not know was that you already loved someone. You knew that if he ever found out about your relationship, he would be furious, but since your teenage years, you had become cunning and knew how to lie.

Knowing how to lie and avoiding getting caught were two plus points, especially for a princess whose life got constantly suffocated by people who wanted to pry into your privacy. Not that you had one, of course.

Kim Taehyung. He was your bodyguard, the person you trusted most in the world. Just imagining his face sent shivers down your spine, certainly not with a negative implication. From the first day your father introduced you to him when you were only sixteen, you had fallen head over heels for him.

For most of your time together, your love had remained hidden, mainly because, in front of everyone's eyes, Taehyung remained formal and silent. However, when you were alone together - although it happened rarely - he revealed his true colourful identity: he talked about art, how much he loved to paint and how you, in his eyes, were the perfect subject to depict.

"If only I could, I would paint you. That way, even when we are far apart, I would be able to admire you as many times as I want."

Taehyung was an extremely gifted and articulate speaker. He always used the perfect words for every situation, and his voice, so deep it made your heart flutter, made it easy for him.

Maybe it was the way he squinted his eyes every time he laughed or the way his gaze was always focused on you. But you knew you loved him.

What you didn't know, however, was whether he loved you.

You sharply inhaled, moving the remaining piece of cake with the silver fork, debating whether to eat it and feel sick or leave it there.

“Is this not to your liking?” 

A male voice suddenly awoke you from your thoughts, and you turned your head in order to connect it to a face. Your heart skipped a beat when you finally saw him: he was beautiful, really. And not the kind of beauty that intoxicates you, that weighs you down, but a beauty so delicate that it leaves you speechless for a moment.

“I hate it.”

You replied, batting your eyelashes repeatedly, as it would have been impolite not to answer him immediately. A proper young lady never stutters - you could hear your mother’s stern tone in your head. 

Instantly, you noticed his dark-brown eyes, and you swore you could lose yourself in them.

His full lips curved into a heart-shaped smile - different from the ones you were used to seeing, those fake, mechanical laughs - and his eyes shrank to pretty half-moons. 

“The Ball, or the cake?”

His question was innocent, yet you could hint at a spark of curiosity in his gaze. You took a brief moment to admire him: his dark hair was neatly combed back, and he wore a slightly unbuttoned white silk shirt and black trousers that seemed to fit him a little tight.

He did not let you answer, allowing himself to sit by your side without asking any permission. You were breathless for seconds that seemed to last almost too long as his hand gently grasped your wrist, with such delicacy that you seemed not to feel his touch.

His fingertips squeezed lightly, until he brought the back of your hand to his rosy lips, but without making any contact with your skin.

The only contact that never ceased, however, was that of his eyes on you. Your ears seemed to stop hearing the music and the room all around seemed to have emptied out completely as the man in front of you consumed you with his eyes.

“Jimin, Park Jimin.” He announced, and his name echoed into your head. “It is an honour to finally make your acquaintance, Princess.”

“You already knew who I was.” 

You let go of your grip on your fork with the hand you still had free, before making a brief bow as you lowered your gaze.

“Oh no, Princess. I ask you not to bow to me."

You furrowed an eyebrow before a small smile appeared on your lips. You knew it was rude to smile like that, but his words reminded you of a quote in a book which your mother read to you as a child.

"You remind me of someone." You murmured, retracting the hand Jimin still held close to his lips. Thus, you remembered the gesture and your cheeks blushed.

"Someone you like?"

Your smile became bigger, but you tried hard to hide it by bringing a hand towards your lips.

"Park Jimin, did you by any chance come here to court me?"

"Would that be considered a sin, Princess?"

The air in the hall became strangely heavier. Either the presence of that unknown prince had caused a strange effect on you, or the corset was really so tight that it took your breath away.

Out of the corner of your eye, you glanced at your father who - at the same moment - looked in your direction, pointing at you with open arms.

"My daughter! My beloved child, she always precedes me in everything!"

He pronounced this aloud and, as his timbre was very deep, the words were heard by many in the audience. The man next to your father, the one he had been talking to all evening, stood a few steps behind him as they both approached the table.

"King Park, this is my beautiful daughter, Y/N." He gave the man a resounding pat on the shoulder as soon as he was close enough. "And I guess this young man is your son, Jimin."

You remained in complete silence as your eyes moved between the two men. You were confused by the situation, yet when you turned to Jimin, he did not have the same expression. He seemed... relieved, by their presence.

"It is an honour, Your Highness. I was fortunate enough to meet your daughter before the appointed meeting, I hope it is not an inconvenience."

Appointed meeting, those words echoed in your mind.

"Of course not, why should it be? That is something to celebrate!"

Still sitting far too composedly, you watched them talk as though you were not there to hear them. You felt like a ghost trying to participate in a conversation,

You parted your lips slightly, attempting to speak.

However, the dark blond-haired boy next to you interrupted your attempt. His voice was calm, and the words he used were always well thought out as if he had studied a script.

"I would be grateful, Your Highness, if you would allow me to ask your daughter for a dance."

As he said this, you couldn't help but keep your eyes locked on him. His attitude was certainly that of a prince, but there was something about him - something extremely mysterious - that you still couldn't pick up on.

"I-"

The words came out of your mouth automatically, but you still had so many questions on the tip of your tongue that remained unanswered.

"But, of course, Prince Jimin. Y/N would be pleased, wouldn't you, my daughter?"

No, you were definitely not pleased. At that very moment, you just wanted to run away. Like a lost puppy, you looked for a familiar face in the surrounding hall hoping to see Taehyung. As you looked for help that would never come, the three men kept watching you, waiting for an answer.

You had two choices: say no and disappoint your father, then endure his complaints on the long ride home, or say yes to give him five minutes of satisfaction.

Your approval wouldn't have led to consequences, would it?

"I would be delighted." You lied, batting your long eyelashes several times, something you had learned to do to show interest. You knew men liked that.

Your father gave poor King Park another resounding pat on the shoulder, inviting him to leave the two of you alone.

Jimin seemed satisfied with your response as he gave you a sincere smile. You did likewise, before rising from your chair - which had become uncomfortable - allowing your dress to regain its shape. Your thighs had gone numb from sitting for at least two hours watching the guests dance, so - as if you had suddenly forgotten how to walk - your legs gave out.

A pair of hands grabbed your hips, making sure to hold them firmly, and when you looked up, you found yourself dangerously close to the blond man's face. Your hands rested on his, grabbing his fingers to loosen their grip on you. You noticed that these were incredibly cold and not too big - not like Taehyung's.

"Forgive me, I shouldn't have. Are you alright, Princess?"

"I'm fine, I apologise, I don't know what came over me." You took a step back, moving further away from the man, as if you weren't going to be dancing together anytime soon.

An awkward silence fell between the two of you. Your face was slightly lowered and your eyes stared at the shiny floor tiles. You could not imagine the expression Jimin might have had: was he perhaps impatient? Or, like you, was he feeling embarrassed?

"Don't you think it's better to put embarrassment aside, Princess?" Of the two, Jimin was the first to break the silence. "After all, we have to get used to each other's presence."

You raised your head abruptly, and your pearl earrings tinkled from the movement. Your heart drummed in your chest and your insides twisted. Repeating the phrase in your head, you tried to understand its meaning.

"What does it mean?"

Your voice came out broken, it happened to you whenever you felt anxious.

"Come on, Princess, don't play dumb. Our wedding is only a few months away now."

Your breath began to get shorter and shorter, as if someone was tightening the strings of your corset increasingly tighter, and a hole was opening up in your chest. You felt as if your lungs were being torn from your chest and the world around you was spinning all too fast. Jimin's face contorted into a worried expression and you could see his mouth move, but every sound was muffled.

"I must… I must go and freshen up."

You didn't know what tone you had used, and you didn't even know if the prince had heard your words, but within moments you had already drifted off, disappearing into the crowd of people. To the unfamiliar eye, it would have been difficult to recognise you. But those who knew you well - on the other hand - would have found you instantly.

Regardless of your appearance or posture, you entered a hall with few light sources, the majority of which was in darkness. Your right hand was resting on your chest, clutching the hard material of your corset, and you wished you could just rip it off.

Soon, a veil of tears blurred your vision even more, causing everything around you to become less clear. You did not even apologise when your shoulder bumped into someone else, continuing undaunted on your way.

The person you had hit, however, stopped and turned their gaze, watching you flee. They continued to watch you until you turned a corner, disappearing into the darkness. Having found a quiet place, you slid down a wall until you found yourself sitting on the cold floor. The room you were in was dark - the dim light of the moon coming from the one large window. The room was empty, only for a few abandoned paintings leaning against the walls.

A thousand questions tormented your thoughts. The idea that your father had given you away to a stranger made you nauseous, and the more you thought about it, the more the cake you had eaten rose up in your stomach. You brought your hands to your mouth, choking back a sob, while your breath was still too short to allow you to think clearly.

You were alone. You felt completely abandoned to a cruel fate, a fate you had not chosen but had to undertake - whether you wanted to or not. Disbelief gave way to anger, and anger soon became disappointment.

Your father had sold you and most likely felt no remorse. You ran your hands through your hair, forgetting the fact that it had been carefully arranged, therefore ruining your hairstyle.

Breathe, Y/N, breathe. But even though you kept telling yourself to calm down, it was impossible. You wished you could escape, hide your identity and finally live the life you had dreamed of.

But your Red Thread of Fate had been tied to the Crown since your birth.

"Y/N!"

A familiar voice resounded in the room and all was silent for a few seconds until quick footsteps approached. The figure knelt right in front of you and - without hesitation - grabbed both your wrists so that your gaze focused on them. Your eyes immediately locked onto a dark-brown pair, looking at you intensely.

"Y/N, it's me, Taehyung. It's me."

Serenity. Kim Taehyung brought serenity into every place he stepped.

You watched his face fully illuminated by the moonshine, and took it all in. His black hair was slightly wavy and fell over his face, framing it perfectly.

If Hell had his face, then you were ready to burn for Eternity.

"It's all right, love. I'm here."

Taehyung didn't waste any time sitting on the ground, picking you up by the hips so that you were resting on his legs. An arm firmly wrapped around your shoulders while a hand gently caressed one of your cheeks.

The warmth of his body caused a feeling of cosiness in you, yet your chest still felt like it was about to implode. "I- I can't breathe."

He instantly seemed to realise what the problem was, because his eyes focused on your chest. Suddenly, his hand reached down all the way to your breast until he grasped some of the threads that bound your corset from the front: he pulled with such force that the seams tore and - finally - all the pressure released. Like a newborn child, you began to breathe, and after a few seconds warm tears wet your cheeks.

You were incredibly scared, still in shock. But Taehyung held you close, gently, almost fearful of breaking you like a porcelain doll. You felt his warm breath in the crook of your neck and his scent intoxicated you completely, making you forget everything.

Your breasts were partly exposed, but you could never feel embarrassed in front of him. Not in front of the man who had seen every last detail of you, not in front of the man who had explored every inch of your body.

"Please don't let me go."

Taehyung hummed and continued to hold you in his arms while giving you a concerned look. His eyebrows were furrowed and you knew he needed an explanation as soon as possible. But Taehyung was also aware that you were still unable to give it to him.

"I won't ever let you go. But now I need you to calm down, hm?" He said softly, as if he was talking to a child. His hand reached for yours, grabbing it gently, and bringing it close to his face.

"Do you remember how many moles I have? Do you want to count them?"

Serenity. Taehyung brought serenity, and every word he spoke to you came from the heart. Ever since you knew him, he had always been affectionate and attentive towards you. He knew you better than anyone else.

So, of course you knew the answer to the first question.

You smiled, heart beating fast but not out of fear. With the tip of your index finger you began to trace every spot on Taehyung's face, his skin always soft and flawless.

"One. You touched the small mole on the tip of his nose, near the right nostril.

"Two." Then it was the turn of the mole under the lid of his right eye, the spot you found most distinctive.

"Three." You murmured, as your heart beat faster and faster. You knew very well where the third mole was since it was your favourite. So you brought your face closer to his, so that your noses brushed against each other, before placing a tender kiss on his lips.

Taehyung's lips were never dry, touching them was always pleasant. Kissing him was always pleasant.

"Good girl."

His voice was hoarse as he moistened his lips and bit the lower one. You were so fragile, so exposed before him. All this delicacy, he wanted to destroy it. And Taehyung felt like a lunatic because a rarity like you was only to be protected.

But you provoked mixed feelings in him. Your bare breasts, your smooth skin, your eyes full of innocence and love for him.

Taehyung wanted to break you.

"You look so pretty right now, dove."

He hummed, almost like he had never thought such nonsense until that moment. "You would be even prettier if you told me what happened to you."

Your smile disappeared, and the perfect world that had been created began to crumble. You sat up, hiding your exposed chest with your arms.

"Taehyung, I..."

You spoke quietly, afraid of the reaction the brunette would have had. He wouldn't have blamed you, because he knew how much your position as heir to the throne made you suffer, but knowing Taehyung, he would have stepped back to make it less difficult for you.

The thought of not being able to see him again killed you.

Before you could say anything else, a man you recognised as one of your father's guards burst into the room. Your first reaction was to move away from Taehyung as quickly as possible, but the man seemed upset for a reason worse than that: his breath was short and his face completely pale.

"Princess Y/N, we've been looking everywhere for you!" He spoke without ever taking his eyes off you. That's when Taehyung removed his jacket, placing it on your shoulders.

"What's going on? Is my father looking for me?"

"Princess, I- I'm sorry…" He stammered in a slurred voice. "His Majesty, your Father, he…"

You were silent, waiting for him to finish the sentence as the man beside you loosened his grip on your shoulders.

"He… Has been assassinated, Your Highness."

©️ peachywritess 2023. All rights reserved.

#bts ot7 x reader #reader x bts #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #jimin x reader #bts poly #bts smut #bts series #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts au #bts royal au #taehyung x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #hoseok x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #bts poly au

[goaways-stuff]

ABC's of Sex with Jake Lockley

pairing: Jake Lockley x gn!reader (mentions of Marc and Steven x reader)

warnings: SMUT. Handcuffs, bondage, papí kink, sex toys, dom! Jake, sub!bratty! reader, mentions of trauma and Marc's mom and the abuse she dealt, marking, choking, sadism, masochism, spitting cum into one's mouth bc Jakey is a nasty boy, hair pulling, edging, overstimulation, and overall Jake being a kinky motherfucker.

summary: a headcanon style fic of the different aspects of sex with Jake Lockley

a/n: again, I don't have DID myself, but I have done research into the topic and have tried to keep it accurate to real life as well as the show. That being said, I can still get things wrong, so please call me out if there's any harmful stereotypes or misinformation in my writing. I also apologize for my Spanish, I am not a native speaker and while I am in the process of learning it, I'm still a beginner in the language, so if there's anything wrong, tell me so I can correct it.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

Spanish translations: (in order of appearance) ▪︎Tan bueno/beuna para mi, cariño. Te amo mucho= So good for me, dear. I love you so much.

▪︎Mi amor= my love

▪︎ Buenos días= good morning

▪︎Mi príncipe/princesa= My prince/princess

▪︎Mierda= shit

▪︎Verde= green

A=Aftercare

(what he's like after the deed)

Early into your relationship with Jake, for his aftercare, he would hand the body over to Steven, letting him take care of you. You were hurt, but you knew enough about Jake to let it go. You knew that he was protective of the boys. What you didn't know is how protective he was of you and how he was afraid you'd leave him because he wasn't good enough. Eventually, you got him to open up, since then he is so gentle with you during aftercare. He's his you as if you were the most delicate flower, whispering praises in Spanish. "Tan bueno/beuna para mi, cariño. Te amo mucho." You pepper kisses across his face and a blissed out smile forms across it.

B=Body part

(favorite of his and favorite of yours)

Jake is very confident in himself, at least looks wise. He knows how attractive he is and uses it to his advantage. His favorite is probably his shoulders and back. He loves how you hold on to them for dear life and he fucks you into the mattress. He loves when you scratch your nails down his back, leaving marks that he smirks at in the mirror for days.

He loves every single inch of your body, and if you would let him, he'd mark every single inch of it. But his favorite is probably your neck. He loves squeezing it when your right on the edge to completely throw you off of it. He loves how good his hands look around it. He also loves marking it, along with you collar bones and shoulders. He loves that really sensitive spot that makes you bend to his will. Anytime you were a necklace, he's complementing it before adding something along the lines of "my hands would look better, mi amor."

C=Cum

(where, how much, what he's like, etc)

Jake, like Steven also blows huge loads. He loves cumming on your face, loves how you'll take a finger, swipe some up and swallow it. "My greedy whore just can't get enough, huh?" Some of it will drip down your chest, and Jake, being the nasty, perverted fucker that he is will lick it off of you before kissing you deep, the salty flavor filling both of your mouths.

D=Dirty secret

(what was he hiding from you until you found out yourself?)

Jake hid absolutely nothing from you sexually. If he wanted something, he told you. He was not ashamed about anything he was into; however, what you weren't let in on until later into the relationship was his soft side. The side that Jake almost never showed to anyone besides little kids and cats. Jake loves cats and he would die for them, so when you got him a cat after finding out, that was when he started showing his soft side with you. He would wake you up with breakfast in bed, humming a little tune. "Buenos días, mi príncipe/princesa, did you sleep alright?" He would feed his cat, as well as Steven's fish for him, making sure the fish tank was properly closed as he didn't want to deal with having to get a Gus III. You always made sure to appreciate his domestic side and not take it for granted, as you knew how vulnerable he felt doing it.

E=Experience

(how much/ little does he have?)

Jake doesn't have a high body count, as he's the one out the least, but he knows exactly what he's doing. He is the master of control and knows exactly how to bring you to release. He even knows all of your most sensitive spots from watching Marc and Steven have their way with you.

F=Favorite position

(self explanatory)

Jake is the kind to put you in as many positions as possible, finding what feels best. He loves having you tied up, spread eagle, or ass up with your face down and arms behind your back, he also loves putting your knees on his shoulders and fucking you like there's no tomorrow. Jake is the one to try all the funky position you see in those sex positivity websites.

G=Goofy

(is he more goofy or serious in bed?)

Jake is the most serious out of the three, in fact you don't think you've ever seen him laugh in bed. He will crack a smile, but it's typically one of those dirty smirks that makes you weak in the knees.

H=Hair

(does the carpet match the drapes?)

Jake is typically the one that shaves, which annoys Marc and Steven who have to deal with the regrowth. Jake just likes the way it looks more with it shaved, but he finally came to the agr with Marc and Steven to just keep it trimmed and he would be allowed to shave it for special events. And boy did he take advantage of what "special events" meant. You had a long week at work? That calls for a special event weekend. Had it been a year since the first time you held his hand? Special event. Marc and Steven would be annoyed anytime Jake even mentioned a special event.

I=Intamacy

(what is his version of intamacy?)

Jake used to be almost completely shut out from you. He didn't trust you at first, worried that you were going to hurt the boys, he was their protector after all. He was physical manifestation of all the abuse Marc suffered through as a kid. He only became more resentful after seeing how Steven was often treated by Donna. He even got mad at Marc a couple times for being so mean to Steven. But he was the protector of them both and he would do anything for them. So after seeing how much you cared for them, he started longing for that from you too. He wanted to wake up holding you in the mornings. He wanted to feel your hand glide across his stubble before pulling him in for a kiss. He wanted your hugs, the ones that made the boys' problems melt away. You would let him have all of that and more if be would only let you. The two of you started off small, giving him quick pecks on the cheeks before you left for work, or a "be safe," before he left for his cabbie work. It eventually blossomed into a very intimate relationship with Jake. At first, he hated how soft and gooey he felt around you, but now, he wouldn't trade it for the world.

J=Jack off

(how, when, where, why does he jack off, if he does?)

Jake almost never jacks off now that he has you. Unless it's you giving him a hand job, he has no care to jack himself off. But if the two of you are apart for extended periods of time, he'll send you videos of him touching himself just because he knows how much you love it.

K=Kinks

(what's he into?)

Jake is a kinky bastard. He loves hearing you call him Papí. In fact, he won't let you cum until you're screaming it. He has definitely gotten you in trouble with the noise complaints. He's into bondage and he loves edging you. But as soon as you're crying, begging to cum he will make you cum until you physically can't anymore. He loves marking you, showing everyone that your his. Be loves choking you and pulling your hair, and he also loves having his hair pulled. He's a sadist and a masochist. He loves giving you the pain that you so desperately crave, but he also loves when you dig your nails into him or pull his hair while he's between your legs. He's also into spitting in your mouth or spitting on your privates and using it as lube while he opens you up. While all three are pretty kinky, he's proud to claim the title of the kinkiest.

L=Location

(where's his favorite place to do it?)

Jake agrees with Steven on the plain old bed, but Jake makes it anything but plain. He loved that he can put you in almost any position he wants on the bed. He also likes fucking you against the wall, or holstering you up on the kitchen counter and fucking you on it, to which Steven was a bit upset about as food goes there until he tried it for himself. He was no longer mad at Jake after that.

M=Motivation

(what gets him going?)

Jake can turn almost anything dirty. Shower? He's coming with. Cooking? No need because his favorite meal is you. Getting dressed? Nope, the clothes will just come off anyway. You can't do anything without it at least being turned into a dirty joke. All you have to do to get him going is just exist and he's all up on you.

N=No

(what are his limits?)

Jake doesn't have a lot, he'll just agree with Marc on this one about the nasty bathroom stuff. The shat or vomit or whatever is just several steps past his limits.

O=Oral

(is he a giver? a taker?)

While Jake almost always makes sure both happen everytime you have sex, he prefers you sucking his dick. He loves edging himself with your mouth. He'll grip your hair a guide you until he's right there before stopping you. He whispers curses in Spanish as he catches his breath and comes back down only to start the process over until your jaw is sore and voice is gone.

P=Pace

(how fast, slow, rough, or gentle is he?)

Jake takes things hard and fast. Even if he stats out slow, it ends with him taking what he needs and fucking you into next Sunday. Sometimes, he'll end it slow as well, after he cums, he'll just grind into you as a way to ground himself and you, and more often than not he's able to squeeze one more orgasm out of you.

Q=Quickie

(how's he feel about them?)

Jake, like Steven, is not a big fan of quickies as he prefers to take his sweet time building you up, edging you, and finally letting you get that sweet release. Only rarely do you have quickies with Jake. And everytime you do "have a quickie," you'll have to pry him off you because he's gonna want to go for another round.

R=Risk

(is he willing to get a little risky during the frisky?)

Jake is the risk taker. He's always researching what new things can be tried out in the bedroom. He goes through article after article to find new positions, new toys, new places or ways to have sex. He loves taking a risk or two if it means you find something you like.

S=Stanima

(How long can he go for?)

Jake is the kind of stanima, edging you for what feels like hours, only to then overstimulate you until you are a babbling mess with tears streaking your face. The only coherent words are Jake, Papí, and please. He loves edging himself as well. He'll eat you out and grind himself into the bed until he's right there then stop. He can make sex last as long as you can handle it.

T=Toys

(does he own any for himself? for you?)

Jake loves toys and uses any extra tips he gets from cabbie driving to spend on you. And another of that spending goes to buying whatever new sex toy he found. And almost always, it heightens both of your experience. Vibrators, cock rings, vibrating cock rings, gags, handcuffs, blindfolds, paddles, dildos. He even got a clone-a-willy and gifted it to you. (Which was also a "special event" that he just had to shave for.)

U=Unfair

(is he a tease?)

Jake is a tease. He'll get dressed in front of you, and watch your pupils dilate and notice how your legs squirm. "Like what you see príncipe/princesa?" He'll give you head before you leave for work, but not let you cum. So all day you're just thinking about him, about his touch. He doesn't even have to be present to tease you. He'll send you pictures of himself in the shower, videos and audios of him moaning and jacking off. He makes sure to not let himself cum either though, saving it all for you. Once home, he'll only give you the lightest kisses, the softest touches, even though he knows you need so much more. He has you begging before he's even really touched you.

V=Volume

(how loud or quiet is he during the hanky panky?)

He used to be much quieter, but now he let's out all his groans, grunts, and dirty, degrading praises. "Such a good slut for me, yeah? Stuffed full of my cock and still begging for more." You squeeze him tight at his words. "Mierda, you squeeze me so tight, almost can't move, feel that good, huh?" All you can do in nod as you whimper at his harsh pace. He's been the cause of a couple of noise complaint to your flat.

W=Wild card

(Random headcanon about him. Go!)

You hadn't meant to smart off to Jake, you really hadn't. You were just snappy and honestly in a mood to mess with him. Maybe you had meant to smart off to him. "I'm home, mi amor," Jake had said, closing the door behind him. He went to sit on the couch with you, snuggling up next to you. You let him, but when he asked you to hand him the remote, you questioned him. "So I can turn on the TV, amor. Unless you wanted to watch something?" You just looked at him. "I still don't see why I should. Why don't you get it yourself?" Jake frowned, unsure of where the attitude had come from. "What’s wrong cariño? Talk to me, I'm here." He kissed your cheek. You turned and looked him dead in the eyes with a smirk on your face. "Make me." Jake was taken aback for a moment. "Oh, so you want to play, hmm? You wanna act like a brat when I just wanna give you my love?" He picked you up, bringing you to the bed. "You'll see what happens to brats, stay still. If you move, you're gonna make it worse on yourself." He bent down to grab the box of toys from under the bed. Now it was getting interesting. You decided to keep the act going just a bit longer. "Or what? What are you going to do about it?," You said moving from the position he put you in. He shot up. "What did you say to me?" The look on his face had you squirming and you could feel yourself leaking in your underwear. "You wanna know what I'm going to do about it?" You shrugged. "Here’s exactly what I'm going to do," He said grabbing the handcuffs from the box. "First, I'm going to cuff you, you're not going to touch me until I say, you understand?" You nodded, knowing that you were now in a deep enough hole that you dug for yourself. He picked up the gag and examined it. "If I hear one more bratty word from you tonight, you're getting this," He said, putting it on the night stand for a possible later use. He grabbed the blindfold from the box as well as a vibrator. That was the last thing you saw before he put the blindfold on you. "Here’s what you're going to do: you're gonna lay down, legs spread and hands above your head. No touching me or I get the ropes, understand?" You nodded again, not trusting your words to not be bratty. "Let me hear you," Fuck. "Yes, Papí, I understand." You heard the vibrator turn on. "Good boy/girl/baby." He brought it to your clothes nipples, the vibrations were low, but with the blindfold your other senses were heightened. You let out a small whimper, trying your best to stay still, not wanting to fall into the temptation of touching him. He dragged it over your stomach before lifting your shirt up. He kissed your tummy, leaving soft marks that would fade shortly. "What’s your color, cariño/cariña?" You wanted to badly to buck your hips into him as he got closer to them with the toy. "Green- verde," You responded. He hummed an affirmative before unbuttoning your pants. "Look at these undies, such a pretty baby. You were planning this, weren't you? If you want to be punished, you can always ask," He said, kissing where your stomach and crotch meet. He pulled them off, leaving your bottom half bare. "Oh, look at that baby, so ready for me and I've just started." He dragged the vibrator to your thigh, causing you to shudder. "Please, Papí, I'm sorry-" You whined. "Oh no, you don't get out of this that easy, mi amor. You wanted this after all, didn't you?" It was true, he had you all figured out. He finally brought it to where you needed it most and upped the setting. You arched your back into it, moaning at the pleasure. He let you grind into it until you were right there. Right on the edge of a cliff you wanted so badly to throw yourself off of. He snatched it away, not allowing you release just yet. "Uh-uh, precioso/preciosa, you have to be good to cum. Maybe if you can show me how sorry you really are, I'll let you."

(definitely didn't go a little overboard with this one)

X=X-ray

(what's going on down there?)

They all share the same, beautiful thick cock with the almost purplish head. Most likely cut due to Marc's Jewish roots.

Y=Yearning

(how horny is he?)

Jake is the horniest of the three. He will fuck you until he can't move anymore, but the minute you suggest a shower he's up and ready for round two. Then possibly a round three when you're out of the shower. And maybe a little bit of oral for a light round four. He loves fucking you, he loves making love to you. He is just so attracted to you and in love with you. He wants you as much as you'll let him have you.

Z=Zzz

(how fast does he fall asleep after the deed?)

He's not really the one to ever fall asleep with the body, usually Steven is the one that will front as you go to sleep, sometimes Marc, but rarely Jake. Though on the nights that he does take the body to sleep, it's almost never right after fucking you. He loves taking care of you and letting you take care of him after sex. You'll hold his face and rub your thumb along his cheek. "You're so pretty." You say, giving a gentle kiss to his nose. "Pretty, huh?" You nodded, "So pretty. Gorgeous lashes, gorgeous nose, gorgeous cheekbones. Definitely pretty." He let out a small chuckle, "I'll take it," He said before kissing you deeply with passion. Once the both of you were taken care of, he would lay down and hold you tight to his chest, a protective gesture you always loved. You wrapped your arms around him as well, giving him the protection that he always gave, but never received. Yep, he definitely had a soft side for you.

#jake lockley x male reader #jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely smut #jake lockley fluff #steven grant smut #marc spector smut #moon knight system #moon knight smut #moon knight headcanon #moon knight #oscar isaac #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #oscar isaac x reader

[yanfeisty]

Can i request again? sagau reader with a little sibling or sagau reader that is a mother of twins can you pls make them interact with the travelers since the travelers are the reader's first vessel ok bye.

Genshin imagine | God's little twins

━━━ ՙ  𓄼 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : Genshin x Creator!Reader

━━━ ՙ  𓄼 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : Reader get Isekaid with their siblings/kids.

━━━ ՙ  𓄼 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : Religious theme.

━━━ ՙ  𓄼 𝐀/𝐍 : You can always request again! I didn't specify if they were reader's siblings or kids so you can choose. I hope you don't mind that I put others characters too, I really felt inspired on this one.

Masterlist

. The twins are in heaven, or more like the best playground they ever had, they can go pet and even adopt slimes or rishboland tigers, and create an army with them. They have their own teapots and can do whatever they want in it. They are treated like Queens and Kings, people offers them toys and candies they never ate before, because after all they share the same blood as the Creator, and people think that if they gain the children's affection, they would get yours as well. You're quite busy in Teyvat, but luckily you have many candidates for babysitting.

. The Traveler looks at them with a heavy heart, it may be cheesy but it reminds her/him of her/his twin when they were both younger. She/He really hopes, those kids wouldn't get separated, it's a horrible feeling to experience, but she/he is sure with someone like you, they will always be happy and safe. She/he shares a lot of stories about others worlds she/he visited to them, and if they want they can come with her/him and Paimon on adventures, of course, the less dangerous ones. Even if Paimon disagrees with it because they're trying to cook her and she is scared be alone now.

. Characters who are so sweet around children, Thoma, Itto and Childe would love to play with them, especially since they are part of your family, if you're busy you can count on those boys to look after them and have a great time. If they're brats, lucky for them because Childe is way worse, and tease the absolute heck out of them because they're small and not as strong as him while still acting sweet, totally spoil them, and will take them to Mr. Cyclope. While Itto might pout at them because they can't stop trying to touch his horns and mock him when he looses, but he is so fun to play with, that the kids want to be around him all the time. And for Thoma, he doesn't mind cleaning the mess they make but he turns desperate of the kids bulling him constantly, but don't worry, he will find a solution to make them like him, he might need the help of Taroumaru though.

. Zhongli will be honored to take care of them, but the kids will get bored with his neverending stories, even if it's about a topic they like, however, he is the greatest for putting them to sleep. He'll hide his disappointment about the twins not being interested in their relative's impact on how he shaped Liyue and its economy, truly a pity. However, they can listen to Venti all day, he has the funniest stories and let them play with his lyre, he really is the best babysitter as he takes fun playing with the children. He also always has a bottle with him which they were curious about it, and he told them it's "the delicate liquid fluttering the butterflies in my chest, making me obsessed with its sweet taste." before passing out, they wanted to drink it but you stopped them before they did and scolded Venti later.

. Also, don't let them with Klee if you want to keep Teyvat safe, Jean can't survive the 3 alone, even Kaeya wouldn't try to let them go. They like playing with Qiqi but last time they played hide and seek together, the twins stayed half of the night alone while everyone was panicking and searching for them.

#sagau #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #venti x reader #childe x reader #itto x reader #thoma x reader #genshin creator au

[the-duchess-of-domination]

College Tummy Tales

due to popular demand, here is a comprehensive list of all tummy-related events that happened on campus this semester (these are all 100% real, i promise you 😭😭😭)

1. this literally happened last friday. i live in a sophomore dorm with my roommate and best friend. we live in an all-gender wing, so me and her are constantly patrolling the hallways because really weird stuff happens at night. last friday we heard some activity near our door, and we decided to be nosy and see what was happening. we came out into the hallway and saw our RA standing near the bathroom, and this twenty-year old guy we live across from sitting on the floor (he’s SUPER cute, like he’s got that shoulder-length middle part haircut and is generally just really friendly and playful. i think he’s a theatre major). anyway, he was curled up on the floor with a bottle of ginger ale and he looked absolutely AWFUL. we asked if everything was okay and he cracked this really weak smile and told us the fish from our dining hall made him sick, and he puked and felt really dizzy and had to sit down on the floor. our RA passed by and got really worried about him and just stayed with him until he felt like he could walk back to his dorm. my roommate knows about my interests (she’s SO FUNNY and supportive) and she was like 😏 girl you gotta take care of him. i didn’t want to overwhelm him so we let him rest. i ended up texting him later and asked if he was feeling better, and he said he was and thanked me for checking up on him. i guess the moral of the story is don’t eat the fish from the dining hall.

2. i am friends with a lot of male theatre majors LMAO. this story happened like, a month ago and isn’t as eventful, but another cute male theatre major is in my ballet class (he is the ONLY guy in my ballet class), and one morning he was sitting out from dancing and i came over to talk to him. COMPLETELY UNPROMPTED he LAUNCHED into a monologue about how bad his stomach hurt that morning, complete with the moaning and groaning and everything, even like, sitting up and showing me his stomach and pushing it out. i was so stunned i just started laughing and he jokingly was like “why are you laughing at my pain????” and i was like “idk i guess you just saying the word tummy as a grown man” and he was like “my tummy? my delicate hurting tummy? my sore little belly?” i swear to god, the male theatre majors are built DIFFERENT.

3. on the topic, men seem to feel really comfortable just using the word “tummy” in general, which i find amusing. i can count a couple of occurrences of men using the word tummy for comedic effect, using phrases like “tummy ache survivor” or “having a tummy ache and being a very brave boy about it”

4. this next one happened in the dining hall and i thought someone would find it amusing. im not huge into burps, but last week this big boisterous frat guy kept burping SO LOUD in the dining hall. it was so fucking obnoxious and the burps were so long and sustained. i kept looking over to give them the stink eye, and the guy had like, 5 empty plates, so ig he was a little full and gassy or something because LORD. hopefully he didn’t eat the fish 😟

5. this last one is the real kicker. in one of my design classes there is this cute, chubby redhead that sits next to me. before class started he had begun complaining to no one in particular that he woke up nauseous that morning. im a really friendly girl so i guess people just feel comfortable sharing things with me, but during class this redhead leaned into my ear and whispered something. like ballet, i was so stunned i asked him to repeat it, and it turns out my ears did not deceive me. he said “i have a tummy ache” into my ear, and my eyes widened and i just couldn’t believe it. i asked if he was hungry or something and tried to offer him a granola bar from my bag, but he turned it down and said he was going to eat something after class. but WOW. im still in disbelief about that one.

anyway, that’s all i can think of for now. me and my roommate have a counter called “X amount of days without a man telling [my name] about his stomach.” so far we’ve only made it 2 days because that halloweekend guy in my poetry class made me have to reset the counter. anyway, love my roommate 💖 the other day she was like “girl you’re only attracted to him because he had an upset stomach 🤨” and i DIED because she’s so right. the bar is so low, boys.

#tummy ache #belly gurgling #belly ache #emeto kink #emetophilia #feedee boy #feedee feeder #feeding kink #male feedism #burp kink #burping #fantasies from the duchess 👑

[ofsappho]

Heartless, Chapter 5

🔞 Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader 🔞

Fake marriage/marriage of convenience, SMUT

-

You get into trouble and Ghost disciplines you for it.

CHECK TRIGGER WARNINGS/TAGS UNDER READ MORE

-

TRIGGER WARNINGS: in the first part of this chapter, homophobic slurs (fag, faggot) and insults are tossed around. From an inconsequential side character towards Soap. I want to note that I myself am queer/nonbinary, and I have been harassed/attacked/bullied for being queer. Additionally, this scene is directly inspired by real events. A friend of mine, who is queer + nb AND is a veteran, got into a fight during their service with another Marine on their base for saying vile homophobic shit. My friend dropped the guy in an instant. My friend knows I am interpreting their story in this chapter, and they approve.

SMUT TAGS: degradation (a lot of it), humiliation, spanking, bondage, dumbification, edging, spit kink, dacryphilia, bratting/brat taming, choking, face slapping, praise kink, overstimulation, squirting, care taking (tbc next chapter!). Knife kink. All consensual. By degradation, I mean degradation in the context of the smut.

Everything goes wrong like this:

You’re out with Ghost and Johnny to explore the base. 

They show you the fields where people like to play soccer. “It’s football,” your friend insists in his thick Scottish brogue. Ghost agrees with a grunt like the traitor he is.

Your heavy, exasperated sigh draws out chuckles from them both. “I’ll stop calling it soccer on the day you beat us at football.” And you don’t even like football. But fuck the British if they think they can get one over you. Well, the British and Scottish. Whatever.

The two of them start chattering- correction, Johnny chatters, and Ghost genuinely listens, you can tell, about sports and teams, and you regret bringing up the topic at all because you can barely follow.

What’s the difference between Manchester City and Manchester United? Isn’t that, like, the same thing?

As your husband discusses a recent game, a few guys kick around a ball, and some people smoke a few feet outside the designated smoking area. You watch a guy stub out his cigarette on the sign that says not to smoke elsewhere.

You’ve gotten too comfortable referring to Ghost as ‘your husband.’ Hm. You should check that impulse before it spirals into something that might validate Alejandro and Gaz’s conspiracy theories about love at first sight. Gross.

Do you know what else isn’t helping? Ghost’s refusal to let you be alone with them again. He doesn’t try to stop you or interfere, but you can’t ignore him lurking in the background like a little stalker whenever you socialize.

It’s… kind of cute.

Oh, and you finally encountered Roach in the wild. You spotted him in the mess a couple of days back, collecting the randomest assortment of snacks (Cool Ranch Doritos, a pre-workout drink for balance, you guess, a chocolate milk, and three lemon sugar cookie flavored energy bars).

He had on some interesting cat ear headphones, so you just waved and wordlessly gestured that you liked his headgear. He waved back, then shot you a thumbs up.

You tap back into your surroundings. Ghost has wandered into the smoking area to light up, and you might as well join him.

When you stretch out your hand, he plucks a smoke from his pack and places it delicately in your palm. He even lights it for you from a Zippo engraved with skulls, with one scarred hand cupped around the flame to keep it steady.

Johnny wrinkles his nose. “That’s gonna kill you in five years, you ken?” He stands on the other side of the painted smoking area line to hang while letting his disapproval be known.

You take a drag instead of laughing in his face. After all, he was the one who charmed every convenience store clerk at the young age of 17 into buying what he wanted without getting carded, smokes included.

“Since when have you been so health conscious?” You say as you blow the smoke away from Soap’s face.

Ghost does the same without thinking - like he’s stood somewhere and smoked while chatting with Soap enough times to make it a routine.

You envy the easy way they complement each other. You used to be like that with Johnny, and you wish… you want your own routines with your new husband, to know that he goes out into the world and does something different for the rest of his life because of you.

Distance is only natural, you tell yourself. You’re new to their friendship.

But Soap has been one of yours for so long, and Ghost is becoming yours faster than you thought possible. Like a rapacious strangler vine or fungal colony occupying a rotted tree, you find that you’re plotting all the ways you can twist yourself around and into Ghost.

Soap laughs. “Aye, well. You try getting shot a couple o’ times. Am not goin’ down over one of them cancer sticks.”

You hear it just as you tap some of the ash off the end of your cigarette.

“...can’t believe they let those fuckin’ fags…”

You bring the smoke to your mouth to conceal your grimace before turning ever-so-slowly. You’ve learned this lesson many times over; gathering further context is important— no need to bring a knife to a situation that does not call for knives.

The same guy you heard before continues with his little rant.

He’s a miserable-looking dude with a pasty milk face, no defined chin, a bad haircut, and a shitty name tag on his shitty uniform that says ‘Pvt. Langford.’

But somehow, despite lacking any discernible charisma, he holds rapt court with a bunch of other similarly-miserable peeons. “They’re a bunch of pussies, like, it’s pathetic, bro. Gonna give me fuckin’ AIDS or some shit if I gotta be in the same room. Criminal.” By now, he’s seen you watching him.

The corner of his thin-lipped mouth lifts as if he’s said something funny.

Eh. He’s maybe got half of a foot on you. At most. There are worse odds.

Then he slides his smarmy, revolting gaze from you to just over your shoulder, and his smirk grows. He’s looking at Soap.

You’ve seen this exact look before. You know what it means, what nerves motherfucking Langford is trying to trample on.

Before anyone can stop you, you’re across the smoking area and in Pvt. Langford’s face in about five seconds.

-

Soap thinks he’s about as level-headed and reasonable as the average man, but Langford has been getting on his nerves for way too fuckin’ long. For the whole time they’ve been stationed at this base, so, weeks.

Everyone knows Langford is a little shit. Everyone hates him and his bitch boys.

You’re just the first person willing to do something about it.

So while Johnny has never felt the urge to personally handle the Private’s homophobia because swatting flies is beneath him, he’s content to sit back and watch the show.

Naturally, Ghost tries to follow you. You’ve got the poor fellow whipped and wrapped firmly around your little finger.

He supposes he shouldn’t have expected any less.

Soap holds your husband back with an outstretched arm. “Let the lass do her thing,” He advises. You won’t appreciate it, and Soap has no intention of being on the receiving end of your wrath.

Ghost rolls his shoulders back. “Not gonna stop her?”

The Lt. doesn’t know, does he? “D’ya really think ya can?” Even more reason to let you go off. This will be fun and, frankly, a necessary introduction.

Ghost stills. “…” Not so new, then.

What a bloody buzzkill. Now look who’s fussing and clucking? Like a rooster.

Soap watches his teammate flex and crack his knuckles and decides that you owe him for what he’s about to say. “If she needs it, we’ll grab her before it goes too far,” He reassures Ghost before leaning against the ‘Smoking Area’ sign.

It’ll work out one way or another. No big deal.

The scowl on your face as you stare down Langford is somethin’ real ferocious. “What the fuck did you just say?” You demand, voice low and proud and loud enough to catch the attention of everyone in a ten-foot radius.

Langford laughs and tries to play it off. “That’s classified.” Oh, haha. Real fuckin’ original. Like half the girls in town haven’t heard soldiers try that line a million times.

The Army sure didn’t take Private Langford for his brain cells.

Next to him, Riley shifts from foot to foot. “She always like this?” He asks as if the words are throwing themselves against his mask and demanding to be let out.

“Mmm. Since we were wee mates.” From here, Soap can see how viciously you throw your cigarette to the ground and grind out the lit ember with your heel like the poor thing did something to you.

“No. Say it again,” You snap, cracking the sentiment over Langford’s thick head like you’re breaking a chalkboard in two.

Ghost stiffens up even further, and behind the mask, his eyes glint in the sunlight like that flame you just put out.

Is it possible that he’s…  impressed by you? “Go on. I just want to make sure that I heard you correctly. That we all heard you correctly,” You say icily.

Global warming would be solved in a day if they could translate your tone into real ice.

Watching Langford take a small step back without realizing it is funny as hell. Even his minions have backed away as your aura of menace sets off their self-preservation instincts with the subtlety of a pulled fire alarm.

Lt. Riley’s eyes narrow as he memorizes your scowl and how you crowd Langford forward without letting up. “Spitfire.” Damn. That’s some bloody high praise coming from him.

Heh.

Riley’s hood can’t hide the shadowy hickies on his throat; one would think that Ghost has realized it by now.

Are those teeth marks he spots? “You sound surprised. Figured she was teachin’ ya that already,” Johnny leers.

Ah, the expression he can make out under the skull mask. He wishes he had a camera so he could show you later.

Ghost closes his eyes for a long moment. “Shut your face.”

Across the way, Langford musters up a little courage. “Aw, are you mad? Did I make you mad ‘cause I spoke the truth, snowflake? Did those faggots get to you already?”

In the aftermath, even the birds stop chirping.

“Fighting words. Surprised you’re not out there with her,” Ghost says.

Only a fool would think the Lieutenant is relaxed right now; Johnny can tell that his breathing has slowed, that he’s holding perfectly still with an unbreaking focus on his prey.

That’s part of how Ghost manages to disappear in broad daylight. When those subtle signs of life go away, it’s easy to overlook him, unsubtle mask and all. 

He’d best save it for the field, but that’s none of Johnny’s business.

You two are so well-suited. “That’s the thing. About bein’ her friend. That bird- that bird’s a psycho.” If your marriage outlasts the bets everyone’s placed on an irrevocable breakdown, Soap figures he could make a killing on a matchmaking side hustle.

You take a deep breath. “I didn’t hear the truth. I heard a bunch of yapping from a little boy who a recruiter conned into signing his life away to lick the boots of his COs because he was a complete waste of resources otherwise.”

Yikes.

Occasionally, Johnny regrets quitting. He regrets quitting now, specifically; he could use the calming rush of nicotine. You’ve never ended fights in a good way, but this will end… spectacularly badly. He can see it already.

Ghost lets out a low whistle. “Jesus fucking Christ.” Then the Lieutenant looks around, and Soap realizes he’s checking for their Captain or any other superior officer.

Soap was planning on doing that anyway, and your new husband wins another point of approval in his book for thinking of it on his own.

“Pretty nice though, canny lie. Who else d’ya know that would fuck up a man for you without hesitatin’?” He says as he watches you open your mouth again.

“How does it feel to know you’re just that worthless?” Your voice rises and rises, acrid enough to melt paint, and it keeps Langford frozen in place.

“How long have you known her?” Lt. Riley asks.

“Eh… give or take sum’ ten years, prolly.”

“She like this the whole time?”

You go in for another round. “Thank God you’re not deployed anywhere important. It would be like the Bay of fucking Pigs all over again.” You’re close enough to spit on the Private, right fuckin’ close to his sallow face, and as your lip curls up, Johnny knows you’re definitely considering it.

Anger thrums in the air as bitter as gunpowder; it’s infecting Lt. Riley, churning in his posture, and it’s (unfortunately) starting to break through Langford’s shock.

“Aye. Never seen a law, or a rule, or a fuckin’ polis stop her. It’s nice not to fight alone, an’ if she had her way, I wouldn’t have lifted a finger in school.” He pauses, then looks at Ghost.

Johnny picks his following words with care. “Bet that one could carry the world on her shoulders if we’d let her. You know that she’s taken to you right quick?”

And then…

“Shut the fuck up, you dumb whore. Who even are you? Some slut whose only accomplishment is spreading your legs for a uniform? I’m not afraid to hit a little girl.”

Fucking Langford. Way to ruin a moment between mates, when Soap was just trying to help you.

God knows you need it; Lt. Riley is a piece of work.

The other man puts out his cigarette.

Now Soap has to think about how many soldiers he needs to threaten into silence after Ghost is through and how Soap will hide Langford’s body once he gets the final hit. “Lieutenant-“

They start moving in tandem, trying to get to you as fast as possible, like sharks circling after tasting blood in the water.

“Yeah, well, that’s funny ‘cause ‘little girl’ is what your mom calls me when we fuck,” You jeer before raising your hand.

Johnny loves you a lot, but man, do you make stupid choices sometimes.

-

Private Langford stumbles to the ground like a little bitch.

Damn. You didn’t backhand him that hard, and you’re not wearing any rings.

You can take a slap way better.

You stand over him as he clutches his face, practically cowering on the ground, and your knuckles are stinging, and all you feel is the adrenaline flash-flooding through your veins like cocaine or a really good fuck.

And then- strong, immovable arms clasp around your waist and yank you away.

Your hair’s in your eyes, and you can’t tell who’s holding you back, but whoever they are… you’re gonna make them regret it.

“Fuck you!” You howl at Langford, kicking and thrashing against the stranger’s grip.

You try to get an elbow in the side of whoever it is, but they evade it with ease. “Let go of me! I’m going to fucking kill you, you inbred motherfucker!” You scream as Langford gets to his feet.

The stranger carries you a few steps back and eliminates your chances of getting your nails in Langford’s face.

You redouble your efforts to free yourself. “Let me go! Let me at him! I’ll rip his fucking head off!”

The person shakes you like a rag doll. “Calm down. Calm the fuck down, lass. It’s me, Johnny. Stop your fucking fighting,” Soap hisses.

Oops. You stop moving all at once, causing Soap to almost drop you.

The adrenaline levels off, leaving you empty, and you drag breath after breath into your lungs to make up for it.

You shove your hair behind your ears just in time to watch Ghost put Langford in a headlock with beautiful, immaculate, careless ease.

It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him take anyone down, and it takes away the breath you just found. Like, your mouth goes dry, and you forget Soap is restraining you.

Just… holy shit. He moves like the hand of God, eyes flashing and skull mask fierce.

Langford blacks out the same second Ghost gets his arm around the other man’s neck, crumpling to the ground like a chewed-up paper doll.

Oh. Oh no.

Now you understand why Soap keeps you in place because Ghost tosses Langford’s unconscious body to the side without blinking twice and then beelines straight. towards. you.

Your hands push and hit Johnny’s arms. You need to- you need to run this time, get away, and get out of Ghost’s path.

Flee. You need to flee before he unpicks you with his teeth and eats your fucking bones like a fairy tale monster.

God fucking damn it, why won’t Soap let you go?

A rush, you can’t breathe, oof, your stomach hurts, have you been swept onto Ghost’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes?

The upside-down sight of his very well-formed ass in his jeans tells you that, yes, you are hanging from his shoulder as he takes you to a secondary location.

All the blood in your body surges to your head. “Ghost. Ghost, let me down,” You tell him, voice jostling with each step he takes.

No reaction.

If you could just breathe, an action obstructed by his stupid shoulder jabbing into your stomach, and clear the fuzz from your mind (thanks hanging upside down!), you’d make him regret this.

“Put me the fuck down. I’m not fucking kidding.” Again, nothing.

If anything, Ghost actually tightens the hold he has on your hips, accurately predicting that you’re seconds away from kicking him.

Fuuuuuck this. “PUT ME DOWN, YOU OAF. I AM YOUR WIFE, YOU CAN’T JUST-“ You try to be as loud as possible, so maybe someone will hear and save you? Or irritating enough to make him set you on the ground?

Ghost keeps walking. “No,” He tells you before digging fingers into the back of your thigh. It’s painful, and you inadvertently shut your mouth, teeth grinding together. For now.

“I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T SET ME DOWN THIS INSTANT-“

Once Ghost unlocks your front door, he shoves it open viciously with his boot and locks it behind you without letting you go.

You fully expect him to unceremoniously drop you on the bed, but he- he doesn’t.

He pulls you into his arms like a husband carries his wife on their wedding night and lays you down gently.

Then he backs away as if burned by your skin, backs all the way to the other side of the room.

Shit. Shit. You’re in trouble. You’re in so much trouble, Ghost leans against the wall and crosses his arms, and you can’t meet his gaze; you can only look at his shoes.

He sighs. “You know what’s gonna happen next. Nod if you know.”

You nod, still looking at the ground, and feel the humiliation and anticipation trying to strangle each other in your stomach.

“If you don’t want it, you need to get the fuck outta my sight. Right now. I can’t look at you,” Ghost tells you.

You’re not sure how to find the right words. Do you want to beg? Resist? Ask him if he’s proud of you? You end up shaking your head in a negative and propping yourself up on elbows planted firmly in the bed.

He doesn’t say or do anything for a few minutes. You know he can see you squirm, how your fingers flex and feet tap the ground.

You pick yourself off the bed and walk towards him like a moth drawn to a flame.

Ghost moves as soon as you cave. He plants his large hands on your shoulders and pushes you back, back, back, until your back slams into the wall with his body boxing you in.

Before your head can hit the wall, he slides his palm around the back of your skull to cushion you.

He braces that same arm on the wall as he speaks. “That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen some stupid shit.” You’re not really listening because his flexed bicep is right there, above your head, and he has to tap your cheek to get you to focus.

You look up into Ghost’s mask and his eyes- his eyes burn, greedily eating up your blush and your throat bobbing as you swallow your nerves.

His other hand trails along your neck and then wraps around it. “Thought you were s’posed to be smart. My smart, clever girl,” Ghost croons, all condescending like he’s talking to a misbehaving animal.

Then his voice deepens to a sound that’s just a touch inhuman. “You could’ve gotten hurt. That fuckin’ wanker almost laid a finger on you.”

Your heartbeat pounds fast, screaming in your chest. “I got him first,” You point out.

Ghost’s eyes crinkle at the ends. “That you did. You were brilliant there, love, won’t deny it.” Here’s where your flush brightens, where the praise makes you look away. “I see that went straight to your pretty little head.”

He falls silent when your tongue darts out to wet your lips.

“But oh my fuckin’ god. You can’t go ‘round gettin’ into fights like that.”

“It was for Johnny,” You protest weakly. You don’t regret a single thing, but you find yourself caving at the slightest pressure.

The hand on your throat tightens, not tight enough to do anything other than remind you that you’re his. “I don’t bloody care if it was for Jesus Christ himself. Nothing is more important than you. Than your safety,” Ghost amends.

But you heard him. Nothing is more important than you, he says.

Why does he care?

Ghost sees the fight flare up in your face. “Listen to me. Nothing. Not Soap, not me. You- you are…” He’s supposed to be scaring you right now. He’s meant to be reading you the Riot Act, and the part you play is the frightened doe he teaches a lesson to.

You’re scared for a whole different reason.

Ghost is looking at you, looking through you, and it’s like you’re a little girl again, learning that the only time people give a fuck is when you do something for them.

‘Nothing is more important than you’ plays over and over in your mind.

He lets go of your throat to grab your hand, the one you hit Langford with, and his gaze drops to your reddened, bruised knuckles.

When he talks, his voice sounds odd, like he’s shaking the rust off his vocal cords. “Fuck. I was so-“ Ghost cuts himself off.

His fingers are gentle with your fingers. He turns them over, runs his thumb along your palm. You’re not used to people touching you like that.

You find your words as fast as you can. “What? You were so what?” You challenge him.

You feel him drop your hand in favor of digging his fingers into your jaw. “You’ve talked a lot today, doll. The next thing you say better be a fuckin’ apology.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That’s how you wanna play this?” Ghost asks, eyes flat and unreadable.

You let him apply more pressure so your mouth lolls open, you let him think he’s got you. “Yep.” Then you poke your tongue out and lick the side of the finger pressed into the corner of your lips.

“Another stupid choice,” He tells you before letting go.

He wears holsters strapped on his back and jeans, and for the first time, you’ll get to meet what he keeps in them. “See, I was gonna be nice. Was gonna… fuckin’, I dunno, say some sappy shit, be real sweet, make sure you were okay…” Ghost says matter-of-factly as he finds a single-edged switchblade that is definitely illegal for civilian carry.

There are rules for that sort of thing. The blade is an inch too long, and that popping mechanism was outlawed in 1958.

You know that he keeps bigger knives on him, ones that look like they violate the Geneva Convention. In comparison, this is small fry.

Ghost deliberately pinches the collar of your shirt between his fingers. “But you’re gonna be a bitch about this, aren’t you? I’m gonna have to get it through your thick fuckin’ skull?” He asks, moving far slower than he’s capable of, slow enough that you can stop him if you want to.

You hear yourself pant desperately, you look at him with wide, vulnerable eyes, then hold perfectly still so that he won’t nick you.

The tip of the sharpened knife pokes a tiny hole in the fabric. “Hope you’re not too attached to these, doll,” Ghost tells you before slicing a clean line down the middle.

It’s cold in your bedroom, you had the air conditioner running earlier, and you blame your instinctual shivers on that instead of the need brewing under your skin (and between your legs).

When he pulls the tattered remnants of your shirt from your shoulders, you let him.

Your bra goes next. A swift rip and then your tits hang free and bare, nipples already beginning to harden.

He makes sure to click the blade back into the handle before reaching out to caress the heavy swell of your breasts, unable to resist stroking your soft skin even when he’s mad.

You picked a good day to wear a skirt that falls just past your ass with a hemline that dances teasingly around your thighs. To be clear, it’s not a good day for your skirt itself.

When the blade comes out again, Ghost cuts your skirt with steady fingers that brush your curved stomach.

Then he slips the knife between your underwear and your skin, carefully aiming the sharpened edge out so you feel the cool metal press into your heated skin without risking an accidental cut.

He doesn’t react to how your panties stick to your cunt when he takes them off you, most likely to deprive you of the satisfaction of any reaction at all.

You see part of his balaclava twitch, and after a moment, you realize he’s raising an eyebrow.

Right. Shoes. You kick them off with far too much eagerness.

He returns the closed knife to its designated holster. It’s very safe of him, very proper.

“I won’t go easily,” You remind Ghost.

He answers by covering your eyes with his hand and kissing you, his mask bunched over his nose and pressing awkwardly into your skin.

Each kiss makes you dizzier, hazier, you forget why you’re fighting, he ravages your mouth with his, and when you moan, it makes him even more feral.

He sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, and you shout at the pain and try to curl away. But the hand over your eyes keeps you in place, and you shudder against him, naked and helpless.

The webbed straps of his chest holster grind into your breasts and leave rough streaks of chafe wherever they touch your skin.

His tongue slips against yours, Ghost tastes like smoke and something uniquely him, it feels like he’s pouring nicotine into your synapses, and your spine relaxes, your muscles soft and compliant.

When you try to bite his lip back, he pulls away without acknowledging your unhappy whine.

“Open your fucking mouth,” Ghost snaps.

You do that and even stick your tongue out for good measure. You might not be able to see him, but he can see the little tease of how good you can be.

You hear him spit before you feel the glob of his saliva land messy and hot on your outstretched tongue. Your legs shift, and you press them together, anything to help with the pressure beginning to build in your core and the arousal trickling down your thigh.

Cloth rustles, and then Ghost removes the hand covering your eyes. His mask is back in place like he never lifted it at all. “Step away. Hands behind your back.”

You turn around on unsteady legs, then put your wrists together behind your back as ordered.

Something unclicks behind you, and then he pulls it off his… pants? His belt - he’s cuffing you with his belt, deftly weaving the nylon strap between your wrists and securing it into place.

As you test the strength and make sure he’s restrained your hands in a way that doesn’t cut off circulation, Ghost gathers your hair and drapes it neatly over one shoulder so it won’t bother you.

He touches your back and neck with an almost unbearable fondness. Fuck.

You feel him kiss your shoulder through the mask, closed-mouthed and chaste. “This isn’t coming off until you’re ready to behave,” He murmurs into your skin before sliding an arm around your waist, pulling the mask down, and biting the place he just kissed.

You struggle and twist in his grasp, but he holds fast, and you slump into him with a pained moan. Is he trying to fucking brand you? It sure feels like it.

When Ghost releases you, he turns you around with a hand on your bound wrists and then walks backward faster than you can keep up.

Then he sits on the bed as proudly as a king on a throne and beckons for you.

Without your arms free to help you balance, you stumble a few times, and Ghost watches you with a pleased glint in his gaze. That may be the point.

By the time you get to him, you’re thoroughly unbalanced. “Come on. Yeah, over my lap.” You kneel without complaint, too busy avoiding eating shit to consider resisting.

He helps you lower your torso with an arm placed below your collarbones and a hand flat on your stomach so you don’t face plant into the sheets.

“Are you going to-“ You feel him guide your hips up, encouraging you to place most of your weight on your face and shoulders.

Conveniently leaving your ass exposed. And- and he can see your dripping folds, see proof that you crave him.

He goes on as casually as if he were describing the weather. “Spank you? Yes, I am. A slag like you can’t see reason, obviously. Got to train it in ya.” You practically jump out of your skin when you feel him drag a finger along the inside of your thigh, tracing the rivulets of slick trickling from your pussy.

You feel like a thing, like putty in his hands that he can bat about and talk to like you’re not even there.

“Don’t act like you don’t fucking get off on this. Be honest. Or are you too stupid to do that?” Ghost asks as if he’s just remembered that you can answer questions.

You clench around nothing and desperately wish he’d take that finger playing with the sensitive skin of your thighs, and do something useful with it. “…I do.”

“There’s my needy girl.” He neatly fists a hand in your hair, somehow mindful that you won’t appreciate losing a few strands without you telling him.

His free hand caresses your ass, then up and down the backs of your thighs. You feel him grab one cheek tightly, grinding down with his fingers so he can see red marks bloom under his touch.

You jerk forward with a cry when he hits you the first time, though the hand in your hair keeps you from going very far. Ghost doesn’t spank you hard, more of a warning tap than anything.

The shock smarts more than the blow did. But you’re determined to show that you can, in fact, take a hit better than Langford, so you dig your knees in and psych yourself up for the next spank.

“Fuck is wrong with you?” His voice cracks like thunder, then he follows it with another spank.

This one hurts. Hot, hot pain radiates from the spot he hit, but your body wrenches with a different sensation as your body processes that pain as… well… pleasure.

When he spanks you again, he takes the time to force your head further down into the blankets. “Hm? Running your dumb fucking mouth, talkin’ all that big shit?” Ghost snaps at you.

Each time he spanks you, you cry out, your eyes roll back, and it hurts, and he keeps hitting the same spots, so even when he isn’t touching you, you’re sore. 

Another set of blows, each one harder than the last.

You gotta- you gotta tell him- you push back against his grip, and he lets you lift your head. “God, Ghost, please-“ Your voice is choked-up and pleading, mirroring your thighs trembling with want and your aroused, needy core that he’s fucking ignoring.

He slaps your ass again, this time right where your ass cheek meets your thigh, close but not close enough.

“Please, what? Please, what, doll? Come on. Dumb little doll doesn’t know how to talk?”

Your breaths are ragged, labored, you’re shivering and there’s so much pain that you can’t tell where it stops and where the want begins.

“Harder-“ You cut yourself off with a gasp when he does just that.

That one burns. That one feels like an open flame, like Ghost’s touch is burrowing into your muscles, down down down, like it will leave a lingering mark that you don’t want to fade.

He rubs over your heated skin, massaging away the worst of the soreness. “You’re welcome. Now listen to me,” Ghost speaks in a low, reassuring tone like he’s gentling a startled animal.

He notices the exact moment you get lost in the feeling, when you push back and fucking present yourself in the hopes that he’ll give you more.

Then he cracks his hand against your ass; the sound is louder than your answering shriek. “Listen. You are going to apologize for almost getting hurt. You’re going to mean it. You’re going to swear you’ll never get into a fight again.” Ghost tightens his hold on your hair and twists his wrist to push your face back into the bed, taking back the advantage he granted.

“Or what?” You won’t be able to sit comfortably for a week at least, the ache and the bruises forming have you strung out for the tiniest scrap of pleasure… but you did tell him you wouldn’t go easily.

“Or…” Ghost trails off slowly. Your scalp begins to tingle as his grip grows even tighter.

It’s so painful that you almost miss the two thick fingers he slips into your pussy. Almost.

“Fuck!” You keen, your mouth open as your nails dig into your palms.

He thrusts them into you slowly, lazily, totally unsympathetic to your pleading noises and your muscles quivering around his fingers as he drags them in and out of you.

Your cunt has to stretch to accommodate them, and he grinds into you each time he gets knuckle-deep. And then he holds your head down like you don’t get the privilege of looking at him… Your pussy clenches around him at the thought.

Eventually, Ghost stops moving at all, but you’re gone, you’ve been gone, and when you start fucking yourself on his hand, he lets you.

You can tell he’s rock hard, you can feel his dick through his jeans, but he has far more willpower than you could even imagine, and brushing up against it does nothing. “Oh- oh my god, fuck, that feels…” You pant as you chase the sweetness, chase the tension twisting up your guts that’s so close to boiling over, so close.

Your clit is aching, screaming for pressure, for stimulation, but he doesn’t grant it to you. You can only work your hips against his hand, over and over.

Your eyes close as you speed up, you’re whining, you’re gonna come any second, your cunt can’t stop twitching. “I’m so close, wait what-“

Ghost pulls his fingers out before you tip over the edge.

“Or you’re not coming tonight,” He informs you, and you can hear the stupid fucking grin in his stupid fucking voice.

When you try to protest, to get up and fucking bite him or some shit because that’s not fair, Ghost spanks you with the hand you soaked.

You’re sort of blissed-out, sort of pissed, and a lot horny. “I’m sorry-“ You start in the hopes that Ghost will fold and give you what you fucking want.

His mask rustles as he shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”

Then he slides you off his lap like you weigh nothing so he can stand.

Ghost keeps you in the same position, head down, ass up, and nudges your thighs open a bit wider.

You can’t see him through any of this. That seems to be something he’s taking full advantage of. You can’t touch him, you have no idea what’s happening next.

The only clue you have that he’s taken his mask off again is when he puts his tongue on your sensitive, aroused clit.

(He really should just take the damn thing off more regularly. This is inconvenient, and it’s not like there’s anything under there that could make him less attractive.)

He laps at your swollen folds with his hands on your hips to steady you, and the thoughts melt straight out of your head and drool from the corner of your mouth.

You struggle against the belt in earnest this time, maybe you can loosen it enough to slip your hands out and get away from Ghost and his planned torment. As much as your body pleads to stay put, as much as you want to push yourself back and let him consume you, let him fuck you stupid with his tongue, you know it will end soon.

And he’s going to be fucking mean about it.

Ghost takes his breathing break as an opportunity to taunt you. “You’re not goin’ anywhere,” He promises, leaving handprint bruises on your thighs.

Your stomach churns as he sucks on your clit, like there’s a knife slicing through you, and it’s the hot, burning pleasure pulsing through your body.

You’re not sure you can hold yourself up any longer, your knees waver like you’re a baby deer, and oh God, you’re going to come again, you can feel the spasms in your cunt grow stronger and stronger.

The beginnings of your orgasm tremble through your muscles, so close that you can taste it, you feel it throbbing with every beat of your heart.

He keeps sucking, his wet mouth relentless and dragging you painfully to the edge of the cliff. “Ghost, please, please let me- Fuck!” You wail as he backs off. 

Tears well in your eyes as the tremors fade into nothing.

You get yourself upright before he can stop you. “Why are you being such a dick?” You blurt out, lurching forward on your knees like if you can get to him, you can do… something. You’re not sure what, other than that you want to kill him.

Ghost blinks a couple of times.

In the silence that follows, the deadly, threatening silence, you realize your mistake. “Just- just let me come, I’ll be good. I promise. Just wanna come.” You beg, you sit down and tilt your head up like a dog doing a trick, and you pray he gives you grace.

He gets his hand around your throat faster than a snake striking its prey. This time, Ghost squeezes the sides hard enough to make you see white lights. “I am being a dick,” He agrees congenially. “But that’s not what you need to say, is it?”

“…no,” You mumble.

The next thing you feel after he releases you is his palm meeting your cheek. Hard.

“Have I spoiled you that much? You think you can fuckin’ ignore me?” Ghost sounds so calm, so authoritative.

After the ringing in your ears clears, you’re proud to see that you’re still upright. “No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” You stretch your jaw a few times to release the ache from his slap.

He hunches over, puts his hands on his knees, and gets right in your face. “Oh, but you did,” Ghost whispers. 

There’s something about the fogginess clinging to your eyelashes and the inside of your ears and the folds of your brain that makes his skull mask seem more than real.

A hovering specter of exposed bone, hollow eye sockets with no end, and a gaping, horrifying maw.

You’re starting to understand why people call him Ghost and mean it.

Your mouth goes dry. “Please, I’m begging you,” You whimper, eyes round with awe and flustered blood rising in your cheeks.

He nods, and you swear there must be hearts in your eyes at his approval. “Mm. I like that. Beg again.”

“Ghost. Husband. I’ll be so good. Anything. I’ll do anything. I can’t take it, I need to come so badly.” You lean forward to touch your forehead to his, making yourself as obedient as possible. For the most part.

“That’s not an apology.” Then he sighs, long and drawn-out and aggravated. “Anything, you say?” Ghost asks.

“Y-yeah.”

“Alright. You can come…. When you promise not to fight. And you’re gonna wait until you do,” He tells you as he slips his hand between your slick thighs.

“No…” You moan. He’s doing it again, torturing you again, you just want to give up, you feel him play with your throbbing clit, and it hurts so good.

Ghost clamps a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to roll your hips against his hand. “Sounds like you weren’t listening. Now that makes me think you don’t care.” Shit. Shiiiiit. He pushes a single finger into you, and you collapse into him as you start to ride it, hips jerking unconsciously.

He laughs when he hears you squeal. “You’re just a mindless whore who’d let half the fuckin’ base run through you, aren’t ya?” He’s found your g-spot, he rubs the patch of ridged flesh inside your cunt over and over.

Sweat beads on the back of your neck and drips down your spine, your fucked-out gaze can hardly focus on him, you feel like you’re burning alive in your skin.

“Don’t even need me at this point…” He circles your clit one more time and your mouth hangs open and you want to beg, but you can’t focus-

Tears fall down your cheeks when he wipes his fingers on your heaving breasts.

“No, no, no, Ghost, I need you. I want you. No-nobody else. I do care, please, you’re the only one,” You sob into his chest, pushing your nose into the fabric of his hoodie because it’s soft and smells like him, warm and like home.

“Yeah?”

You feel him rub your back, then slip a few fingers between the belt and your wrists to test your comfort.

You nod without lifting your head. “I- I was- I’m listening, promise, I can’t- you gotta make me come, don’t want anybody else.” You’re so tired, so worn out. There’s a patch of dampness on his jacket from your weeping, and you let out little high-pitched whimpers like a neglected kitten.

He frees your hands in an instant. “If I gotta repeat myself, I’m gonna leave you here,” Ghost tells you, though his voice isn’t as mean as before.

Your arms cling to his neck as you nuzzle your face into the space below his sharp jaw. “Ghost. Don’t go.” The edge of his balaclava muffles your words, but you don’t have the strength to say them to him straight.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so stupid,” You sniffle before bringing a hand to your nose to wipe a little snot.

Ghost gently knocks your fingers away and replaces them with the edge of his sleeve, delicately cleaning the mucus from your upper lip.

Next, he dries your cheeks with the shadow-black fabric.

You protest when he unhooks your arms from his neck, and your hands scrabble for purchase in the hood of his jacket.

One soft look, his fingers brush your chafed wrists, and you let him lay you down. “Took you long enough,” Ghost quips as he unbuttons his pants and pulls out his dick, mouthwateringly hard and long. He pumps his cock a few times.

You’re in a daze, hovering in that raw space on the other side of crying but wanting him anyways, needing him more than anything.

“Spread your legs, love.”

Ghost leans in like he’s about to kiss you. Then he remembers his mask and changes his mind, having lifted it enough today.

He taps your sensitive clit with the fat head of his cock, and you suppress your shudders, how your legs automatically try to close and get away from the feeling. “I won’t do it again,” You tell him, voice breathless and sweet.

Once he’s coated in enough of your arousal, he keeps one hand flat on your pelvis as he pushes in. “Fuck- fuck, I…” You groan. There’s never any room in your body left for air when he fucks you. Never.

He’s so large that it hurts a little when he’s bottomed out, you can hardly twitch or clamp down like you desperately want because of how fucking full you are.

You can feel every inch of him, you’re on the brink of crying again because all of those denied orgasms are tearing at your insides, and your painfully aroused cunt screams that you can’t take it, that it’s too much, too good, he’s too big.

You have to be good. “Uh, I won’t fight, aah-“ That’s the only thing that gets you to say the words he wants through numb lips, especially when Ghost starts to thrust, and your pussy convulses around him each time.

He moves slowly, really slowly, shallow at first, your tits bouncing in time, and you’re crying out underneath him, so used to all that edging that you subdue your pleasure on instinct.

The slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out are loud and profane, filling the room more than your weak, almost pathetic whines do.

The solid, imposing weight of his body settles you down so you can enjoy his faster, harder pace, and his balls slap against your ass as he fucks you open. “Promise?” Ghost pants, his hands pressing your knees almost to your chest.

He’s looking for something. He moves your legs every few thrusts, opens you up a little more, tilts your pelvis up and-

When his dick catches on your g-spot, your tears cover your cheeks and trickle into your hair in earnest. “Yes, yes, shit, hngh- I promise…” You’re so wet that you can feel it dripping down to the bed and pooling under you, you feel that familiar pressure building, except this time it’s stronger, it’s got a stranglehold on you.

Every time the fly of his pants brushes your engorged clit, your eyes go large and you hiccup, unable to moan properly because it’s like electricity is coursing down your spine.

He kisses the side of your face before nailing that sensitive spot with terrifying, mind-breaking accuracy.

“Come on. You can do it,” Ghost groans, cursing under his breath when you squeeze him so tightly that he almost loses his grip on your thighs.

Oh. Oh. He wants- he’s trying to make you…

“I can’t, I don’t know how, I, I-“ You sob, the pleasure is so intense that you feel nauseous, he’s rutting into your body furiously, and you’re stuck on a horrible knife’s edge of needing to come or you’ll die, but it’s not happening.

He nudges your knee until you wrap one leg around his hips. “It’s alright, love. Let me help you. That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Ghost shushes you before slowing down so he can place his hand on your throat and restrict the blood rushing to your head.

Everything goes sweet and hazy, and you give him a cock-drunk smile in return, eyes rolling back and drool stuck to the corner of your lips.

Once you’re suitably pliant, he slides that hand between you and finds your aching clit. “Just focus on me.” He’s pressing his forehead to yours, you look into his dark, fathomless eyes ringed with pale lashes.

The coil tightens, and you arch into him, gasping and biting down on your lip so hard that you draw blood. 

“Ghost, fuck, can I-“ You beg, voice choked and strung out as his fingers move faster on your clit, circling it in tandem with his cock pounding you so deep that it feels like he never ends.

“Go on. Come for me. I know you can.” Ghost pinches your clit, and you come with a wail, thighs shaking, your cunt seizing and it fucking gushes out of you, you soak his jeans, you clamp down so tightly that he slips out.

He replaces his dick with three fingers slotted right on your g-spot, moving in quick, jerky thrusts to see you through it. “Holy fuck. Did you just…” He mutters as your eyes screw shut, and your nails snag his shoulders. 

You feel like you’re dying, you can’t stop fucking squirting, the waves grow and grow-

Your hips jerk for the last time, and you’re left a whimpering, quivering mess of oversensitive nerves, the last of the aftershocks still simmering in your muscles.

Ghost kisses your forehead as he carefully withdraws his fingers. “You’re too good to me,” He tells you with something like awe in his rough voice.

You slump to the bed, boneless and empty, not even giving a fuck that the sheets are all messy with sweat and… squirt?

That’s new, you think blearily. That kind of shit only happens in porn? Right?

Your head lolls to the side so you can watch him through lidded eyes.

He moves you out of the wet patch with one arm under your back and the other under your knees, then tucks himself back into his boxers.

“Wait… you didn’t- you didn’t come…” Your voice is fucked up and hoarse, and maybe you should give in to the overwhelming urge to sleep, but…

Did he not want to? You did everything he asked.

He shakes his head. “Nah. Don’t need to. You were perfect, you learned your lesson.” He splays a hand out on your stomach, luxuriating in your squishiness.

Your brow furrows. “Ghost…” Then you rub the sweat and crusted tears from your eyes and set your mouth in a mulish, determined line.

He watches you like a hawk. “Yeah?”

“Please? Fuck me?” You ask as you touch his forearm with a weak hand.

A beat passes. “You’re crying. And you drenched me, the bed too,” He tries to reason with you. You see him swallow harshly, you know he’s shifting where he sits because he’s given himself blue balls.

Your eyes flutter when the exhaustion almost gets you, but you power through it. “It’s okay. I- I’m tough. I want you to come.”

“Yeah. Alright… Tough girl.” Then Ghost reaches for your hips with all kinds of enthusiasm that tells you the truth.

It was sweet of him to try and be gallant. You’d rather he break you open and fill you up.

To be extra nice, you even hold your knees apart so he can push back in.

You’re not going to come again, you’re too fried for that, but it still feels… incredible. You’re glad for all the extra lubrication and that you can make him feel good.

Ghost fucks you with abandon, and deep, animalistic groans echo from his throat. “Shit- I could fuck you forever, you’re squeezin’ me so tight, fuckin-“ He grunts, head tilted back the tiniest bit and composure gone.

Breathe, you tell yourself, breathe. Do it for him.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Your swollen pussy spasms from the praise, constricting him so tight that he cries out. You just can’t help yourself when he says shit like that, especially when he’s making you ache in such an addictive way.

His hips move faster. “You like that? You like it when I tell you how good this fuckin’ pussy feels?” Yeah. Yeah, you do.

“Fuck, fuck fuck-“ You feel him orgasm, he paints your walls with his cum, then grinds those last few thrusts so deep that you cry out.

His pelvis bumps the backs of your thighs like he’s trying fuck his cum in as deep as it will go.

Ghost catches his breath as he softens inside you, panting as raggedly as you are.

He pulls out before dropping his chest harness to the side and unzipping his hoodie so he can clean you up.

You can’t stand the thought of anything touching anywhere near your beat the fuck up pussy right now, so you shove his hands away and drag Ghost down to snuggle.

Of course, he obliges you and helps you rest your head on his shoulder as you curl into his muscular frame like a little bug.

“What happens if the fight comes to me?” You ask. 

He’s running a hand up and down your spine, soft touches to bring you back to earth in a gentle, comforting way.

His hand stops until you kick his shin, gently, then he starts up again. “You run,” Ghost says.

“What happens if I can’t run?” You press your cheek into his t-shirt, so close that you can feel the heat of his skin through it. And a little rhythm that must be his heartbeat.

Next, Ghost threads his fingers through your sweaty, messy hair and attentively smooths it away from your face. “You call me. I’ll come get you. Every time.”

-

Hope y'all liked this one! Next chapter will be super soft/sweet/fluffy with lots of caretaking, I promise.

Tagging:

@abbiesxox @thedevillovesflowers @poohkie90 @averyyreads @lialacleaf @backupgal @kitty-satan1 @androgynoushellscape @555ilovecats @pinkwigonmytv @almightywdm @discowizard88 @castielsangelsx @jaymicrosoft @rengokulover96 @copiasratscheese @fluffysmiko @d3athtr4psworld @idesofarch @teenagegever2k22 @badame0224 @toilet-paper-headbands @itsrosebabe @bangirl134 @silverianni @nezukos-number1fan @deadpoetsandhoney @crowsjourney @vanevafu @xxghostyx @rafaelacallinybbay @akaotv @chibijusstuff @wasteland-babe @anubiseqq @lilpothoscuttings @soapyghost @maliceex59 @valdemarismynonbinarylove

#heartless #cod #call of duty #modern warfare #mw #modern warfare 2 #mw2 #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod modern warfare 2 #call of duty mw #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #simon riley #ghost #ghost riley #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost mwii #ghost mw #lieutenant riley

[koukaimagines]

Hello! Could you write headcanons for the four dragons with a female s/o who is sick and how they would go about taking care of her?

Hello Anon! Thanks for sending this in when you did! I'm so sorry about the long wait. Every time I get requests about the dragons fretting about their s/o for any reason, I get so excited because they're all very cute (and maybe even cuter when they worry)

These might be reminiscent of my injured s/o HCs with Jaeha and Kija as the topic of discussion is somewhat similar! (ailed s/o with dragons caring for them)

I also happened to fall sick while working on this LMAO, but side note: using my platform to say please mask up when you go about your day! Masking is a way to protect yourself and your community members, especially those at risk/who suffer chronic conditions due to or not due to the novel COVID-19 virus— the pandemic is not over!

Pronouns for this ask will be she/her as used by anon!

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Kija

Kija is a member number 1 of the overprotective squad. He already wishes to treat you delicately under normal circumstances, so if ailment befalls you, you can bet that protective nature will flare up more. He makes sure you're in bed and resting no matter what you say and takes care of all of your chores for you.

Much like he would in my injured s/o HCs, Kija would want to be as knowledgable as he could be about your illness and would ask Yun questions about your condition, unusually attentive and serious while taking the info in.

He's very worried about you! It agonizes him to see you suffer headaches or sore throats— anything that your illness inflicts on you, he would take in your stead and he would often voice this to you at your bedside.

He'd help you eat and feed you without question, and maybe even force feed you before Yun tells him not to bother you too much in case you're suffering from headache/unable to stomach anything, but of course you make sure he knows his intentions are appreciated.

I don't know what to call this factor; something like this applies to all the dragons in different ways, so I'll tell you how I think they'd go about processing and expressing this: Kija is ecstatic he gets to take care of you. He thinks it ill-hearted on his part to be happy about your unfortunate state, but really, he's just happy to be at your service in any way he can. Your being sick only increases the opportunities for him to show you how much he loves you and how much he cares.

Shinah

Shinah is member number 2 of the overprotective squad. He'd go to great lengths to make sure you're well-accommodated and ask Ao to be with you at times he may have to leave your side. He gives you his fluffy coat of fur and braves the cold without it because he thinks you need it much, much, much more than he does.

He sends you glares if you try to be proactive. He really really wants you to rest because Yun advised it and said it would go away faster if you slept and ate and don't overexert yourself.

While he's out in the field and happens upon some wildflowers and thinks of you, he may hear from Yona or Zeno that he could give them to you as a get-well-soon gift. Even though it's a form of courtesy, he wants to believe that it's like a prayer for you to get well soon and thinks it will help you fight your illness.

He always keeps an eye on you. Every time you run out of water, Shinah would make sure to fetch some more for you. You don't even have to ask— if he sees that your cup is empty, he'll be right back with it full. Even at night, if he happens to be on night guard duty, he'll care for you all the same.

I don't know what to call this factor; something like this applies to all the dragons in different ways, so I'll tell you how I think they'd go about processing and expressing this: Shinah loves taking care of you. He feels like he's doing something good and that makes him feel good and worthy. He has a bit of a hard time expressing his feelings for you in words, so in some ways similar to Kija, Shinah would take this time to make sure you're well-taken care of because he wants you to know how much you mean to him. He really, really wants you to get better.

Jaeha

While you're sick, Jaeha often teases you with things like feeding you dinner and saying that you must've gotten sick so he can dote on you, or hoping that he'll catch your illness and be in bed with you, but he's actually really careful (worried) and observant of your state and wants to make sure you're comfortable.

As always, he cares much more than he lets on, and does things for you outside of the periphery of you and the group. Once he's caught, he plays it cool (like he always does) and keeps going about his day doing things for you.

While you're sleeping, he'd often sit there and watch your peaceful expression. If you have fever, he'd be there to change out the wet towel on your forehead, but he's otherwise there just watching you. When someone else walks in on him, he's unusually startled— I'll let you decipher why on your own. :) (spoiler: he's embarrassed for no reason and gets more embarrassed because he felt embarrassed but he plays it cool— it's complicated. TLDR Jaeha's silly but we already know that.)

Generally, Jaeha may tease you but his true feelings can be gleaned from how he blows on the steaming porridge in your spoon and the way he pulls the covers over you when you lay down.

I don't know how to word this factor; something like this applies to all the dragons in different ways, so I'll tell you how I think they'd go about processing and expressing this: Jaeha secretly loves the intimacy of being at your side and having you rely on him. He'd be quite open about how he's loving it (it'd come off a bit teasing and as typically non-betraying-his-feelings as Jaeha can get), but there's a deeper emotion that he's feeling while he goes through the motions of taking care of you that he wants to keep all to himself.

Zeno

When you're sick, Zeno already knows the motions of caring for you pretty well. He's his usual cheery self and his sunny disposition almost cheers your recovery on like a cheerleader.

Outside of caring for you, Zeno likes picking flowers as get-well-soon gifts. He likes to tell you all about the shenanigans of the group that you may have missed in your time resting, and his lips stretch into that heart-wrenching smile of his as he watches you giggle about how silly the group can be.

Zeno sticks by you the most out of the three dragons. Because he's immune to illness and fatigue, Yun trusts him to look after you the most while he may have his hands tied with other chores. Because of his inability to feel fatigue, Zeno also rests by you while you sleep despite your many demands for him to get some sleep. "Zeno doesn't need sleep, so you rest well, Y/N." You can hear his care in the way your name rolls off his tongue despite his infrequent use of it.

When he feeds you, he lightly brushes his lips against the spoon to make sure it's just the right temperature.

I don't know what to call this factor; something like this applies to all the dragons in different ways, so I'll tell you how I think they'd go about processing and expressing this: He finds your sick state incredibly endearing— it evokes a lot of memories for him that are bittersweet but nevertheless precious. He knows your pain will only be temporary and takes each action he takes to care for you with a profound contentedness and hope that he'll see you bounce back within a few weeks' time.

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