#dad deceit

[whos-she-never-heard-of-her]

{dad deceit please} *sniffles* -🐕

❤️ Aww, pumpkin. What's wrong? Did ya get hurt?

#dad deceit #ask deceit

[konfizry]

dirk dad

words cannot describe how appreciative i am of Shady Dirk. the man makes counterfeit relics!! granted the one example of this we’re provided is not some dodgy black market stuff, the relic actually goes to the Church but. still. you’re helping someone cover up a lie by making a fake, Mr Dirk!!! what about dwarven vow number 11 mister dirk??? But hey, he’s got a kid to keep fed and clothed. goodness and love in the end! Like. I love it. For all his hammering the dwarven vows as this ubiquitous moral code, he doesn’t mind bending the rules a little if he has to. (And i do think that rubs off on Lloyd as well. lloyd’s not above deceiving, playing mind games and using a little bit of trickery if he feels it’s justified)

That’s how i love to draw the parallel between kratos and dirk tho like. Dirk abides by his moral code very strictly except when he doesn’t. He has no qualms about overlooking the very rules he likes to quote at the drop of a hat for the greater good (and like that’s not necessarily a dichotomy. maybe dwarven vow number 7 transcends all the others and it’s ok to disregard a vow or two if you do it for love and justice. also tbh it seems the dwarven vows are numerous enough that you can probably find some that contradict one another anyway. and i would argue that’s by design). So that’s why he keeps some things from Lloyd and makes fake spiritual statues. he has his own way of solving the moral dilemmas that come his way, i think. Doesn’t mean it’s necessarily easy for him every time, but he knows to trust himself and create flexibility when need be. Kratos on the other hand, doesn’t. He wants to be loyal to his friend and his friend’s ideals. That’s what guides him, period. And so long as said friend remains faithful to his ideals, that’s all well and good, but the moment Friend starts acting counter to his own ideals, Kratos BSODs. he’ll stay in denial for a couple decades or centuries, then he’ll abandon ship and and wander around aimlessly for a couple extra decades not truly committing one way or another, until he finally meets Someone who can (knowingly or not) answer the question: “is it ok to turn against my mass-enslaver genocidal shadow-of-his-former-self of a friend (i did say i would always be by his side so idk)??”. (and then when that Someone goes bye-bye, he’s back to square one, we know the drill)

this would be a no-brainer for dirk i think? idk. anyway

dirk knowingly crafts counterfeit objects of worship that are subsequently used to trick hundreds upon hundreds of people so he can put food on the table and i think that makes him interesting (and fun) (do you think a part of him enjoys doing it. do you think he takes pride knowing that his statue might fool even the most zealous devouts. i dont have the answer to that question)

#tales of symphonia #tos spoilers #make no mistake kratos is a shady character too #look at him constantly sneaking around #never making his true intentions known #my point is both lloyds dads are shady #i like to think anna was too when the situation called for it #they're all deceitful #despite probably despising deceit but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do #also this uuhhh #this is a very narrow reading of both characters #there are other dynamics at play #kratos is just really indecisive like at his core #but it's funny tho bc #like #he IS capable of going against the rules like really #dude stood up to the King of Tethe'alla (His King That He Was A Knight Of And Also Maybe Banging His Daughter) #to defend two random half elves he met 2 days prior or something #because his gut told him to listen #what happened to that kratos what happened to trusting your gut when you see someone you're loyal to acting like a clown #aaaarrrggghhh #for the record ive said it before i'll say it again i'll say it everyday of my life: #i am a kratos enjoyer #all slander directed towards kratos on this blog comes from a place of true fondness #he is my baby i love him but also all who hate him are 100% justified and correct in their hatred #'s how it is #enough about kratos #anyway idk if thats the consensus or not but i do enjoy seeing lloyd and dirk's relationship as conflictual #and like that doesnt make it any less valuable #nor does it erase the fact that they're family

[endy-the-anxious]

Bow's dads as Logan and Janus

(Click for better quality)

#spop bow's dads #(idk i forgot their names ): ) #tss logan #tss janus #tss deceit #logan sanders #janus sanders #fanart #edit #I'm pretty sure one of the dads is called Lance? but idk #loceit

[consolecadet]

It's fascinating to me that I'm comfortable writing a 40-word email ad which will go out to 50-100K subscribers, but I find writing a post for our client's new Twitter account with 11 followers stressful and frustrating

#I just really hate social media marketing specifically #you can be quite direct with an email ad. #e.g. 'need parts? [company] has a huge inventory and a sweet clean room for lubricating it. call today for same-day shipping' #whereas with social media it's all about [gag] Thought Leadership and hello-fellow-kids-ing it to build influence and trust or whatever #disgusting. far more deceitful. feels worse #plus there's always the chance of putting your foot in your mouth bad enough that you become the Twitter Main Character of the Day #there's probably also something about my dad writing the book (and I mean THE) about social media marketing in the 2000s #but let's not unpack that now. #boring text posts #job 3

[ladymacbeths]

so what I’m gathering from all these Macbeth things is that I should read Lear

#j.txt #the sister drama… the deceit… the dad who’s both a perpetrator and a victim… it sounds delicious actually

[forever-eternal]

Hello, I’m making My Little Ponies. Have pictures of the first three:

#my little pony #mlp fim #mlp #mlp g4 #mlp oc #elements of chaos #Water Lilly is a Kelpie #her ‘cutie mark’ is fake and just an illusion #cause she’s deceit #don’t let Ruby Heart near your animals #he is a messed up kids #and only listens to his dad #Crimson Knight is incredibly loyal to King Sombra #(i ship it tbh don’t @ me--) #look at King Sombra and tell me he’s cis or straight 🤨 #I hc King Sombra as able to change his body at will cause he was originally an Umbrum #my art <3 #my aus

[stillebesat]

A Restless Christmas Eve

Sanders Sides: Janus Sanders Shorts: Sleep (Remy) Cartoon Therapy: Emile Picani Blurb: Even if it had been five years since he’d appeared in the real world, this still felt like it should have been a Virgil problem and not a Deceit one. He’d never had issues staying asleep before. Let alone ending up wide awake, feeling like he needed to--to--just move. Get out. Because of a stupid storm. Fic Type: Christmas Fic, Real World AU, Dad!Janus, Kid!Emile, Kid!Sleep Overall Fic Warnings: None. Taglist in Reblog.

Deceit was sure he’d heard somewhere that snakes got more lethargic in the cold. Yet here he was, wide awake, staring at what probably would have been a beautiful sight...if it weren’t four freaking thirty in the morning. 

He exhaled, wrapping his robe more tightly around him as he pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the balcony door in the kitchen, watching the snowflakes fall to the snow covered streets six stories below him.

Even if it had been five years since he’d appeared in the real world, this still felt like it should have been a Virgil problem and not a Deceit one. He’d never had issues staying asleep before. Let alone ending up wide awake, feeling like he needed to--to--just move. Get out. Because of a stupid storm. 

He hated this restlessness. It made it hard to settle down. To not want to uproot everything and move to a different state whenever the weather changed. Deceit closed his eyes, one hand reaching up out of habit to the left side of his face, brushing smooth unmarked skin where scales used to reside.

“Coffee for your thoughts?” A young voice asked as the soft scrape of the kitchen chair sounded behind him.

Despite himself, the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile. He should have known. “Not until you’re in high school, Remy.” 

He turned in time to see the young Sleep, now seven years old, drop his head to the table with a thunk and a groan. “That’s ages away, Dad. Please. I’m dying here.” 

“You’ve survived the past five years without it, you can last ten more. Orange Juice?” Deceit asked without a hint of sympathy as he moved to the fridge.

There was a reason why he always grabbed his coffee from the cafe down the street. He’d learned early on that even though he’d been brought into the real world with Deceit as a two year old, the popular Shorts Character could and would find and down any coffee hidden at home within the hour. 

If they had still been in Thomas’s mind he wouldn’t have cared.

But out here? In the real world? With real consequences? Yah no. Sleep would have to satisfy himself with coffee flavored candy instead. And even then, this early in the morning, he wasn’t about to hype the boy up. Especially when their resident night owl should be sleeping. 

“Wha’ ‘bout Hot Chocolate?” A different voice asked sleepily. 

Deceit raised an eyebrow, hand hovering over the orange juice as he looked over to eight year old Emile standing in the doorway, one hand clutching his favorite Steven Universe blanket while the other rubbed at his eye. “Shouldn’t you still be asleep, Em?” 

He knew full well that despite his namesake, Remy was the lightest sleeper. It was easy for him to wake up to the smallest of sounds. But Emile? Most of the time he couldn’t get the kid out of bed before ten unless one of his favorite cartoons was on.

Emile yawned, wandering over to the kitchen table and pulling himself onto a chair. “It’s snowing.” He said like that explained everything, resting his head in his arms.

It didn’t. Normally Deceit was the only one to be sensitive to changes in the weather. 

Remy let out a long suffering sigh before twisting in his seat, going onto his knees in order to see over the back of the chair. “Can we have marshmallows in it?” He asked hopefully, amber colored eyes going wide and watery as Deceit glanced to him. “Tis the season.” He gestured to the snow falling outside. 

Deceit snorted, shaking his head as he grabbed the milk from the fridge and three mugs from the drying rack. “Tis the season indeed.” Considering it was Christmas Eve. Definitely the season. 

“Is that why you’re awake?” Emile asked, pulling the blanket tighter around him. “The storm?” 

What else would it be? The kids were well aware of his quirks after the five years they’d spent together. He made a noncommittal sound as he placed the three mugs of milk into the microwave before turning to the cabinet to grab the cocoa mix. 

“They say it’s only gonna get worse.” Remy added, pulling out Deceit’s phone, small fingers darting across the screen. 

Great. Just what he needed to hear. “Oh?” He asked, frowning at his phone.

So that’s where it had ended up. He should have known. If it wasn’t Emile stealing it to watch cartoons, it was Remy taking it to scroll through the various social media sites he’d made Deceit get so the kid could stay up to date on the latest trends. 

At least that particular issue should end tomorrow morning when he finally gave both boys their own phones to use now that he’d finally landed a gig here in New York where he could afford two more lines on his plan.

Remy smirked, amber eyes glittering in the screenlight. “The airports are already talking about canceling flights. Stranding hundreds of people.” 

Emile gasped, bottom lip trembling. “Nooo. All those families not together for Christmas?!” 

Tender hearts. Unfortunately not everyone could get their happy ending. Deceit shook his head, grabbing the marshmallows as the microwave beeped. “You want me to go play rescuer again?” Sure, he’d gone on similar forays when his restlessness became too much to bear staying indoors a second longer, helping stranded motorists or picking up passengers through MyRide, but this was Christmas Eve. He should be with his kids. With his family. Not wandering around the city like a restless knight on a quest to save the princess from the Dragonwitch. 

Sleep didn’t even bother to hide his smile this time as he rested his chin on one small hand. “You are Self Preservation aren’t you? You protect people.”

He protected Thomas. There was a difference. And considering Thomas had wanted nothing to do with him even before he’d shown up in the real world far far away from his host’s home--

“And--” Remy gestured to the thickening snow. “You’re obviously not gonna go back to bed anytime soon.” 

Sleep would know. He may not be a part of Thomas anymore, but now that he was getting older some of his...talents still came through on occasion. 

Deceit placed the three mugs on the table before taking his own seat. “I highly doubt the two of you want to spend all day in the car on Christmas Eve.” He said, unable to stop his leg from bouncing in place as he watched the snow falling from the corner of his eye. Gah. It was bad this time. The idea of driving around the city sounded far too appealing to be normal. And technically he didn’t have to take the boys with him. They could spend the day here while he--No. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. It was Christmas Eve. He couldn’t just leave them.

“All day?” Emile frowned, standing up in his chair, the blanket falling off his shoulders “It’s that bad?”

Deceit tsked as Emile clambered over the table, easily avoiding the mugs, and into his lap. “It’s...I’ll be fine.” He said, wrapping his arms around him, resting his chin on the boy’s head as he gently rocked him. He didn’t want it to be that bad. But if the snow kept up---it probably would be an all day restlessness. “We were going to have a lazy day, remember?” He said, smirking as Remy rolled his eyes. “Watch movies? Build pillow forts. Bake cookies.” And finish wrapping all the presents he’d bought for them. All the homey stuff he was sure Patton would have loved to do instead if he’d been present. 

Regardless, if he could keep busy maybe he could distract himself from this restlessness from the storm. 

It hadn’t ever worked before. But there was always a first time.

“That was before it snowed though.” Remy said patiently, setting Deceit’s phone face up on the table, his MyRide app open and showing a dozen requests for Rides even at this early hour. “It’s not like we haven’t spent hours on end in the car before, Dad.” 

That was true. Though Deceit had been trying to decrease their car time as the boys got older and could be trusted to be left home alone.

He exhaled, pressing his nose into Emile’s sleep tousled hair, briefly closing his eyes. “We’ll give it a couple of hours, alright? Until the sun comes up at least.” He looked up in time to see Remy making a face at him over his mug. 

“Will you even live that long?”

Deceit rolled his eyes, resolutely ignoring the falling snow outside. “I’ll survive.” He said, adjusting his grip on Emile as the boy wiggled around to rest his head against Deceit’s chest, snuggling in close to him with a contented sigh. 

It was just a couple of hours. He could handle that. He’d be fine.

#A Restless Christmas Eve #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Janus Sanders #Deceit Sanders #Emile Picani #Remy #Christmas in July #Christmas Fic #Real World AU #Dad!Janus #Kid!Emile #Kid!Sleep

[belladaises]

𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦 (𝗦.𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗽𝘀/에스쿱스) 𝗽𝘁. 𝟭

back to directory ＼(^-^)／

midnights series (on-going). hits different (pt. 1), anti-hero (pt. 2) by @gleamingyu

in which you get hurt in a car accident, in which he gelps you drive again by @wongyuuu

redamancy by @rubywonu

matilda by @milfgyuu

good luck, fermata tower by @beefboyandbabygirl

the nurse's office's most infamous resident by @som1ig

deceit, divorce & dishes, birthday boy, cold by @wqnwoos

the park with seungcheol, admire me (like I do for you) by @wheeboo

the legend of the sea @miabebe

hurt so bad (pt 1, pt 2) by @babyleostuff

home, the hows of us, favourite lesson, just because by @moonwonuu

lingon by @najaemsread

the way back by @suhnshinehaos

bean me up, scotty by @seungkwansphd

patience (Part 1, Part 2) by @fantasyescapes17

pregnancy cravings by @yikesmary

exes and oh’s by @toruro

walk in the woods (req) by @slytherinshua

[5:02am] by @slytherinshua

dad!seungcheol by @horanghoe

support system by @blu-joons

The Prize by @misterrightscenarios

Take responsibility, Choi! by @ch3ol

scrunchie by @leejihoonownsmyheart

Bouquets for a Friend (From a Friend) by @thepixelelf

Huff, Puff by @thepixelelf

The Great War by @amourcheol

double shot espresso by @cheollipop

towards the sun by @cheolism

this bit by @nonranghaes

Smell You Later by @aclowntiny

04:15 am by @fairyhaos

Drunk Favourite by @junnielimbo

sleepy seungcheol = cuddly seungcheol, 1:23 am by @bluejeanstrash

Sentinel's Serenade by @starlightxsvt

fast pace, BANDAGES + KISSES by @hanggarae

seventeen as taylor swift songs by @fairyhaos

cherry wine (f) by @yoongiseesawmp3

open road promises by @pearlesscentt

ROSES AND DAHLIAS by @babyleostuff

keep you safe  by @jinkoh

running for the crown by @som1ig

Sweet Macaroons, Now You're Safe With Me, Forever His, What a Sweep by @thedensworld

[ 05:15 PM ] by @kmazine

#seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #scoups imagine #svt fic #seungcheol fluff

[percygranate]

⚠️PSA – ickybatz is back! Predators on AO3⚠️

⚠️TW for Mentions of Child Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, Minor Sexual Content, Pedophilia, GROOMING, and Pedophile Conversations. PLEASE read and reblog if you can.

IMPORTANT UPDATE: Demobatz is NOT ickybatz, also known as batty-ruski, battyrusk.

I made a mistake by assuming due to the names, and after being in contact with Demobatz, I edited the post. I apologize for this but don't fully regret calling them out, as it helped Demobatz realize they made a mistake and it brought a lot of attention to the issue of predators on AO3 and Tumblr.

In-depth explanation [HERE]!

This 13/16-year-old CHILD is out here asking for pedophilia requests and getting encouraged and groomed by predators.

I accidentally came across it, and I encourage you to report them and everyone interacting with their work. There is a difference between dark romance, dark fics, and straight-up romanticization of children being assaulted.

They write about these children actively partaking and enjoying it, hoping they can please the adult taking advantage of them. These works are clearly written for the type of person that gets off on it.

——— Update ———

Their way of writing to cope with past trauma was groomed and manipulated by predators on AO3.

——— Update ———

——— False Information | Demobatz isn't Ickybatz ———

So much for “Oh, they are a traumatized child and made a mistake.” They now know it's wrong and continue doing it, even worse than before. And people continue to support it.

Their fucking apology was absolute bullshit. And everyone that came to their defense should be ashamed of themselves.

——— False Information | Demobatz isn't Ickybatz ———

↓ Here are AO3 accounts supporting this. ↓

Yes, they put warnings on their work and say “Don’t Like It, Don’t Read It!” But I would like to show you what they are writing, and how they are getting the attention of predators. I am sure you have to agree with me that they and everyone supporting this need to lose any type of platform they own. Demobatz should NOT be in any contact with these men.

⚠️They encourage each others to write this and Demobatz, A 13/16-YEAR-OLD, is actively putting themselves in danger by making “friends” for roleplay, and exchanging social media, with very likely, PEDOPHILES. They are actively getting groomed by people that know what they are doing.⚠️

——————————————————

↓These are their two original works↓

Financial Struggles — The summary says it all. But I feel like I should point out their conversation under their post.

Mother’s Milk — Sexual Assault of a male baby.

——————————————————

↓This is their work in the Stranger Things Fandom↓

Their work “Deceit” which is taking requests and actively posting has, as of May 21st, 16 Chapters.

1 — “Using this as a coping mechanism for my own trauma. Please request, any age is allowed❤️”

2 — Eddie Munson, 25 y/o | Reader, 17 y/o

3 — Uncle Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson | Reader, 6 y/o

4 — Eddie Munson, 20 y/o | Reader, 12 y/o

5 — Steve, 19 y/o & Eddie, 20 y/o | Reader, 14 y/o

6 — Dad Steve | Reader, 8 y/o

7 — Dad Steve & Eddie | Reader, 8 y/o

8 — Big Brother Steve | Reader, 4 y/o

9 — Big Brother Billy Hargrove | Reader, 6 y/o

10 — “Posting this so that you all can give me ideas on what to post next❤️ Anything is allowed/ age can be whatever you want♡♡!”

11 — Billy & Steve | Reader, 3 y/o

12 — Hopper & Joyce | Reader, 4 y/o

13 — !BILLY HARGROVE AND A NEWBORN BABY!

14 — Billy | Reader, 6 y/o & Max, 7 y/o

15 — “It hasn't been a week and I'm almost at 2,000 reads! Thank you all so much♡♡ Feel free to drop suggestions, request or even ideas/blurbs♡♡”

16 — Big Brother Eddie / Reader over the years, starting at 6 y/o

——————————————————

They actively encourage pedophilia and put themselves on a silver platter for predators.

If you are still trying to justify these types of works, please do it off anon and openly so you can be blocked since you are part of the problem.

Do not send threats, bullying, or harassment their way. Block and Report.

If you know one or more of the interacting blogs, call them out.

⚠️UPDATE: 22nd of May⚠️

Dear fellow Bloggers, Demobatz pedophilia fic “Deceit” has been taken down!

Yet their two original works (mentioned above) are still there. I ask you to keep reporting them!

Demobatz is currently using Wit as their social media to exchange ideas for their CSA & incest Erotica, and worse, to roleplay with potential predators.

⚠️Update: May 25th⚠️

AO3 has removed their account or they deleted it themselves. Their Wit profile has been deleted.

Due to this post, my blogs keep getting shadowbanned and reported.

⚠️Update: May 26th⚠️

DEMOBATZ CONTACTED ME AND I CAN CONFIRM THIS APOLOGY TO BE REAL!

In-depth continuation and explanation [HERE]!

⚠️I turned off Reblogs as the original post with false information is still making rounds and therefore people are missing information.⚠️

#ickybatz

[lackadaisicallizard]

Sundays

Growing up, Regulus hated Sundays. 

Sundays were mornings spent in church, pretending to the world that they were a perfect family. Sundays were stuffy clothes and tight ties wrapped around throats spouting nothing but lies about the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. 

Sundays were carefully coordinated games disguised as family lunches, the entire extended family coming together to outdo each other in just how well they were doing. Sundays were masterclasses in manipulation, lies and deceit. 

But now, fifteen years later on the most ordinary of all days, Regulus can hear voices coming from the kitchen. 

“I think that’s enough eggs, Haz, why don’t you add more flour now?” 

“How much do I need to add?” 

“I have no idea, just pour until it looks right.” 

Sliding on his slippers, Regulus makes his way out of the bedroom and down the hall, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen. He leans against the doorframe for a moment, watching the scene in front of him. 

“How’s it going there?” His husband peers into the mixing bowl that seems to have more eggs in it than any hen could feasibly lay in a year. 

“The flour won’t come out of the bag,” Harry says with a frown. 

“Try banging on the end of it,” James suggests and before Regulus can even consider stepping in to stop him, their son does just that. He is far too much like his father for his own good sometimes. 

Flour ends up everywhere. 

“Papa’s going to kill me,” Harry groans through a layer of white dust. 

“Papa doesn’t have to know,” James says, “you finish the batter and I’ll clean it up.” 

Harry stirs it, a puff of flour rising into the air. “I think it may be beyond saving now, Dad.” 

“J’en ai marre,” their heads whip around at the sound of Regulus’ voice, both faces a similar mask of concern. “You two are useless.” 

He steps into the kitchen now, holding out his hand for the bowl, which Harry passes him with a guilty expression. “I love you?” 

Regulus’ own expression softens completely at that and he places the bowl on the counter before holding out his arms for his son. Harry moves into them without hesitation, being pulled into a warm embrace and leaning into his father. “Tu es la lumière de ma vie,” Regulus says, pressing a kiss to the top of Harry’s soft curls before pulling back and looking at him in the eyes. “That doesn’t mean you can get flour all over my kitchen though, compris?” 

“Oui papa, désolé. We were just trying to make you breakfast in bed.” 

“It’s true,” James cuts in, a smile pulling up the corner of his lips, “we know you’ve had a long week so we thought we’d make some pancakes.” 

Regulus smiles back, he can’t help himself. “I’m not sure which one of you thought you could pull that off considering the great scrambled egg fiasco last month.” 

“Those eggs were delicious and you know it!” 

“I had to go to the store for more and make them myself.” 

“… my comment still stands,” James says with a grin and Regulus rolls his eyes at his husband. 

“Harry, go and fetch the chocolate chips from the cupboard and I’ll attempt to salvage this.” 

Harry disappears into the pantry and as Regulus starts to decanter as much flour as he can from the very floury bowl, he feels arms wrap around him from behind. 

“I’m sorry about the flour,” James’ voice is low in his ear. 

Regulus hums. “I would say I’m surprised, but I’m not.” 

A soft chuckle followed by lips against his hair. “I’m also sorry for ruining your Sunday, love. I know it’s the first day you’ve had off in a while.” 

But the thing is, he hasn’t. 

Because Regulus knows what a bad Sunday feels like. They’re ingrained into his brain. 

But this right here? Making far too much batter to even out the mountain of flour that he can’t salvage from the bowl. Allowing his son to add almost an entire bag of chocolate chips to the mixture. Watching his husband smother a tower of pancakes with syrup and whipped cream. Cleaning up an incredibly messy kitchen together as a family after they’ve done. 

Well, this is what Sundays are now. They’re not perfect, or proper, or in the least bit civilised. 

And he loves every one. 

#marauders #james potter #regulus black #jegulus #jegulus raising harry #jegulus dads #I'm obsessed with them

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Three. Four. Five. || Toxic!Husband!Price

For @glitterypirateduck's “O, Captain!” writing challenge! I used prompts:

30. "I hate you but if anything happened to you I'd burn the world" vibe.;

42. The story spans over a period of 10 or more years;

78. Give us a "That's my Wife!" moment.

Rating: E Words: 3.3K cw: toxic couple, VERY toxic, insults, death wishes, smut fade to black, pregnancy. Tags: f!reader, you/your pronouns but no Y/N, miilitary/court martial inaccuracies, very bad family dynamics?, dark humour??. Summary: John and Reader are in the worst fucking marriage ever. A collection of moments, dialogues and scenes from their terrible relationship. a/n: They are SO fucking toxic and dumb, I cannot- This is also very different from the stuff I usually write. This is ALSO not particularly angsty, more so dark humour.

There was a time when you loved John Price.

With all your heart, all your soul (and all your pussy).

That time was when you were young.

Ages 14 to 21, you loved him. He was your first kiss, your first time. High school sweethearts, you supported him through the academy, he supported you when you went to university. 

You stayed together through his first and second deployments. It was like an old-timey WW2 romance. 

So many letters exchanged back and forth. All lovey-dovey, with faint pen ink and smudged blotches on the pages as you made plans for the future.

Phone calls with spotty service and loads of static, only five minutes per soldier, 5 minutes which he’d spend only ever spend talking to you, asking you to relay any other messages to his mum, dad, siblings so he wouldn’t have to hang up with you. 

Polaroids clipped on the inside of envelopes which he would then slip into the breast pocket of his shirt, keeping you over his heart… one he’d often pull out and look at during transpo, thumbs tracing your eternal smile.

Polaroids of yours, a bit more risqué, which he would keep tucked into a journal under his pillow, for his eyes only.

John would walk around overseas with a smile on his lips after getting a letter or a call from you, brag to his teammates about his “bird back home”, never going out to bars to find one night stands like they did…

But sometime after his second deployment and joining the SAS, the puppy love that had lasted for years started to dwindle. 

Slowly but surely, you found that you were both growing distant.

You assumed you were both growing a bit ‘comfortable’, perhaps complacent… like all relationships tend to get after a while. 

By that time, John and you had already moved in together and you were no longer consistently alone for months at a time waiting for him to return from deployment. You blamed it on that. Plus, you’d been together for years by then!

But it felt different. There was distance, emotional and physical. Whenever he cuddled up to you, you felt cold and so did he. The kisses to your forehead were meaningless, the dinners at home eerily silent.

And between the distance and the inability to make proper plans, proper dates, celebrate milestones together, forgotten anniversaries, overlooked birthdays… It turned into arguments. 

And one argument turned to three, to five, to seven… hundred.

You found yourself growing bitter, angry, hateful.

It wasn’t a sudden shift or anything.

Not like you woke up one day and the one thought in your head was “I hate him”...

But you remember hating him longer than you ever loved him.

You tried breaking up. And failed. 

Some… bastardised feeling of guilt came to the forefront of both your minds at the idea of throwing away 5 6 7 8 9 10 years together, and giving up on your first love… and maybe even fear of having to start anew with someone else.

So, you simply continued going through the motions. You got engaged, big shiny rock on your finger, all big smile, but no tears came when he proposed. Your families were ecstatic, not quite able to see through the thinly veiled deceit.

For the wedding, you pulled out all the stops, stressed yourself out preparing the ceremony and reception with the women in your family (and his! His mother and sister were so happy that John was getting married!), going wedding dress shopping…

You had a beautiful ceremony, John wearing his full dress suit, army green, with the beige SAS beret. You were both 27, and together for 13 years.

Then, came the honeymoon, which was cut short. Not that it was a true honeymoon. Just three days in a coastal town in Northern France, having to be within a day's drive of Hereford lest he get called out for a sudden mission, which he was.

Not that you expected any different from him. So the distance continued growing, as did the arguments.

You hated him. He hated you.

Then came the predictable “So, when can we expect some grandkids?”. You put it off for a couple more years, blaming it on your high-priority careers, the law and the military, so similar and so different; his lack of time at home and how regrettable it’d be for you to be alone through the pregnancy; the want to be ‘more present’ for the future kids, needing to wait for things to settle down a bit more…

You’d been together for so long at that point, 15 years under your belt, starkly aware that neither of you is going anywhere. The world keeps spinning and your relationship hasn't ended. Fuck it, might as well go for it.

And now here you are.

It’s been eighteen years since you met. Aged 32, you no longer have arguments, you have throwdowns. You pull out every weapon in your arsenal. Neither of you plays nice.

Insults are traded often. Death wishes even more so. And, more often than not, they’re delivered with such a deadpan nonchalance that you’re sure people would think you both psychopaths.

“Going on a mission. ‘ll be back in a few days.”

“‘Kay, hope you die.”

“So do I.”

-

“Just had a fender bender with a stupid bloke. The car’s at the shop. Taking an uber to the base to get your car.”

“Okay. Shame you didn’t die a fiery death.”

“Don’t remind me, already cried about it.”

-

"I'm getting discharged."

"Why?"

"Shot."

"And it couldn't have killed you?"

-

“Can you get out of the damn toilet? I’m bleeding.”

“Period, accident, or just part of your satanic rituals?”

“Period.”

“Tough luck. Hope you bleed out.”

It never gets physical, never violent. John would rather die than lay a hand on you and you’d never DARE lay one on him. It’s just a lot of yelling, a lot of insulting, a lot of throwing things around, and, especially, a lot of revenge plans being executed to drive each other crazy.

Like recently. You found out John had gotten a grey-haired wig about the same length and texture as your hair, and has been snipping off a few hairs at a time, planting them around the house to blame you for leaving your hair everywhere, while simultaneously making you feel like you’re going grey. So, you put grey hair box dye in his shampoo and beard oil, to make him think he’s going grey.

Or three months ago, when you replaced all your lightbulbs with dimmer ones and lowered the brightness on all electronics, to make him think his eyesight was starting to go bad. You drove him so mad that he had voluntarily signed up for sniper assessments because he was worried he’d become a liability for the team.

Or eight months ago, when John had to return home in the middle of the day wearing a ruined uniform and just about ready to blow smoke out of his ears, having ripped holes in the uniform midway through a meeting all because 2 or so weeks prior you had painstakingly undone part of the stitching on it after an argument, and that had resulted in him baring his hairy thighs and armpits to a boardroom full of officers.

It’s bad. Very bad. You’ve had your windows and doors insulated to make sure the neighbors don’t hear your screaming matches and call the cops on the “domestic violence” happening next door. 

You probably shouldn’t have kids with this man. And yet-

He drives you insane.

And you’ve TRIED to fix it! You did. Marriage counseling, rage rooms, axe-throwing, paintball matches, yoga, meditation.… Nothing worked! In fact, it only infuriated you more because:

“You’ve got a tactical advantage, you need to play with a handicap!”

“Tough luck, sweetheart. Get good or get shot!”.

-

“You can throw harder than that.”

“Oh, I’ll show ya throwing hard, you gobshite!”

“Okay, when are you planning to start?”

-

“My back hurts-”

“Because you’re getting old.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m just telling you the truth. Face it, John, if the downward dog hurts your back, then you’re old.”

-

“Can you breathe any louder?”

“Yes, I can. Wanna see?”

“Just shut up. I can’t hear myself think.”

“Not much to hear either way, pretty hollow in there.”

“I hate you.”

“Feeling’s mutual, sweetness.”

There are only three occasions when you’re not actively at each other’s throats. Other, then, of course, when John’s working, especially when he’s overseas. You can’t fight if he’s both a) not home and b) unreachable via calls or texts or e-mails.

When you need a favor from the other, something you can’t quite do, or that falls in the other’s ‘jurisdiction’ in house chores.

“The washing machine’s leaking.”

“Turn off the water main, I’ll go check in a sec.”

“Mkay.”

-

“Here. Popped a button.”

“I don’t have any more army green thread.”

“Then use brown or black or whatever.”

-

“Where are your car keys?”

“What for?”

“Going to get it washed and detailed.”

“My purse.”

-

“You’re not gonna wear that, are you?”

“Why?”

“Besides the fact that it’s wrinkly? That’s a ‘house’ shirt, not a ‘going out’ shirt. Wear this one instead.”

2. When you’re both complaining or dealing with an outside force, a 3rd party, together.

"Excuse me, hi, I'm sending this back it's not cooked the way I asked."

"Ma'am that's exactly what you-"

"Are you calling my wife a liar?"

-

“Oh, fuck no. Why the fuck is he winning the Great British Bake Off?"

"Hm? Oh- oh! Yeah, why the fuck is he winning?"

“Bloody hell, he rolled his pastry too thin and had watery pie filling-”

“Wankers. This is not fair.”

-

“John. John!”

“What?”

“Look-”

“Blood hell, he’s back early-”

“Yeah and her boytoy’s car still there. They’re definitely still going at it.”

“Oh, this is going to be fun.”

-

“Excuse me! Hey, excuse me! Pick up after your bloody dog! NO, don’t you start with me, you keep leaving your dog’s shite right by our garden, don’t you see the sign my husband’s posted up?! Pick it up or I’ll do it and then drop it in your garden.”

3. During sex.

Marching into the bedroom after breakfast, you find John combing through his hair in the bathroom mirror. The room is steamy from the hot shower he just took. 

“Take your trousers off. I’m ovulating.” You warn him as you wave your phone in the air, showing off the period tracking app.

“I literally just showered.” John replies as you’re already shrugging off your robe and pajamas.

“Well, believe or not, I don’t control my ovaries, John.” You reply. “Now take your trousers off.”

“Already on it.” He replies as he already starts taking off his shirt and sweatpants, leaving them on a pile on the floor, before his boxer briefs follow suit.

His hand palms his cock as you’re getting comfortable on the bed, tugging on it lightly as he watches your fingers do the same between your legs. 

“Can we try to enjoy it this time?” He asks you in earnest.

“Sure.” You reply simply. “Been a while since we’ve had proper sex and not…”

“Not a breeding session?” He quips as he kneels on the bed between your parted thighs. His hand replaces yours and he starts rubbing your clit for you.

“Shut it…” You quip, while your own hand wraps around his cock, stroking it slowly. John lowers himself onto you and his lips slowly brush against yours before he kisses you.

No, as it turns out… There are actually four occasions when you’re not actively at each other’s throats:

4. The Kid

In a day like any other, you’re lying in bed, reading a book. It’s a lazy Sunday morning, your big, round belly feeling particularly heavy. You’ve stolen every other pillow in the house to try and find some comfort, which you fail remarkably at.

“I think I’m going grey.” John states to no one in particular.

He’s in the en-suite bathroom, applying beard oil across his mutton chops like he tends to do, about three times a week.

“You are.” You remark in a bored, dismissive tone as you read a book in bed.

“That’s not funny. I’m not that old.”

“You’re getting up there.”

“Look who’s talking, we’re the same age.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Jonathan?”

“It means you’re there yourself, darling.”

Raising your eyes from the book in your hands, the bottom of which rests atop your pregnant belly, you cock a brow at your ‘beloved’ husband.

“And this is coming from Santa Claus?” You retort swiftly.

John peeks his head out of the bathroom door to look at you. “You think you’ve got a leg to stand on, you crone?”

Grunting under your breath, you glare at him, and he glares at you, complete silence in the bedroom. 

There’s something in that face of his, the look in his eyes, those STUPID fucking mutton chops that you’ve told him to shave and he refuses…

Grabbing your book and rolling it into a cylinder, you hurl it at him, putting as much force behind your arm as you possibly can. It misses the mark, but only because he had the presence of mind to duck. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ knobhead!” You insult him, tongue dripping with bitterness.

“Wel, not like I can be anything else, really, when I’m married to such a raging cunt.” He retorts.

“OH FUCK YOU!” You retort.

“ALREADY AM MORE THAN FUCKED, SPENDING THE REST OF MY LIFE WITH YOU.”

“OH, PLEASE, YOU’RE MORE MARRIED TO YOUR BLOODY GUN THAN YOU ARE TO ME!”

“YEAH CAUSE AT LEAST MY GUN DOESN’T DRIVE ME FUCKING MENTAL!”

“OH PISS OFF!” You shout, your face twisting with a scowl.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be stressing yourself out like this. It’s not good for your blood pressure. Or for John Junior.”

“First of all, it’s not gonna be a boy. Secondly, even if it is a boy, we’re not naming him after you. And thirdly, how about you die, then I won’t get stressed.”

“And why would I do that, when I can stay right here, perfectly alive and healthy, and watch you give birth to John Junior, and have the pleasure of rubbing a ‘I told you so’ right in your face?”

“Oh fuck you. It’s not going to happen.” You sulk and cross your arms over your chest, leaning back against your mountain of pillows.

“Someone doesn’t like the idea of having a son that takes after me, hm??” John teases as he comes up to the bed, a brow cocked.

You trail him with your eyes as he sits next to you on the bed. “Absolutely not. I wanna have a child I actually am able to love, and not one that I have to lie to.”

“A mother’s love knows no bounds, huh? What a load of crap.” John quips.

“Oh, that’s 100% true. I love this baby to bits already, but if it takes after you… I’ll probably die.”

“Good.” John remarks, causing you to roll your eyss. “Much better than if our child takes after you. Spawn of Satan, he would be.” John’s hand slides up your leg and slowly cups your swollen stomach.

“I should probably address the fact you just called our child ‘Satan’s spawn’, but I’m more concerned over the fact you keep calling the baby a ‘son’.” You murmur as you uncross your arms and watch him caress your skin.

“I feel like it’s a boy, I don’t know what to tell you.” He replies as his calloused fingers drag over the stretch marks and linea nigra on your stomach.

“What if it’s a girl?”

“What about it?”

“I’ve seen enough men online getting pissy over havin’ a daughter.” You quip and cock a brow up, looking him in the eyes.

John’s eyes lock onto yours. “Not me.” Then they return to the belly as he continues rubbing you. “Would love a little girl too.”

“Hm.” You remark and slowly, your hand rubs over the belly on the opposite side, where John’s hand isn’t. “We’ve gotta promise not to yell or argue in front of the baby.”

“Kind of hard to do that when I’m married to the Devil.” John quips, causing you to look up at him, eyes narrowed.

“You’ve gotta promise. We’ve gotta promise.” You murmur as you look at him.

For a moment, his usually grumpy face softens and he nods. “I promise.”

Nodding as well, you echo the sentiment. “I promise.”

No, wait, five:

5. When you have his back.

“General, that is not what I asked you. I would ask that you stop beating around the bush, feeding me, the jury, and the people watching at home, fabricated information and embellished words in a sorry attempt to save your credibility. Stick to the questions being asked and stop wasting our times.” You warned the man as you paced the space in front of the stand.

“Me and everyone else in this room are looking for nothing but the truth, or must I remind you that you are under oath and also live on television?” You ask outloud as you turn to look at him.

“No, counselor.” The General, a heavy-set, older, mustachioed man replies, through gritted teeth, his face showing a polite expression while the man himself was seething on the inside.

“Very well, then, I’ll repeat the question. Were you or were you not aware of the aforementioned, unsactioned operations being conducted in the Al-Mazarah and Urzikstan border, involving CIA and MI6 operatives?” You asked, eyes glaring into the man’s eyes as you leaned into the stand near him.

“Well, as with most operations...”

“A yes or no is enough, General.” You told him sternly.

“Yes.” The man grits out.

“And did you, or did you not, give permission for these CIA and MI6 operatives, working under the guise of NATO, and I quote, from the transcript: “Authority to use any means necessary” on the enemy forces?” You confronted him.

“Well-”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“And did you do that while being aware that the teams involved would interpret such command as permission to execute an operation in which they’d use ‘extreme physical persuasion’ or, in other words, torture to achieve their goals?”

“I-”

“Did you or did you not, General?”

“Yes, but-”

“And did you, or did you not, not only demand the censoring of the clear and transparent reports received in the aftermath of that operation but also sign off on them yourself, to circumvent the proper channels of evaluation, which would force an internal audit to be conducted?”

“Yes-”

“So, in short, you just confirmed that you authorized your troops to, essentially, wipe their asses with the Geneva convention and comit war crimes on the POWs under their care?”

“Counselor-” One of the judges called out.

“Withdrawn. No further questions, Mr. Chairman.” You told the Chairman and the jury panel that sat above you, as you swiftly turned around and marched up to your table, high heels clacking on the polished floors of the court room.

Your eyes locked onto John’s as he sat in the back of the room, wearing his full regalia, his eyes locked onto yours with a strange shine to them… Almost like he’s proud of you.

As soon as you sit on the chair and the Chairman once again takes over, addressing the room, the General, calling other witnesses, your phone’s screen lights up on the chair next to you.

Picking it up quietly, you spot a message of John’s:

John: that’s my girl. knew you could do it. you: you owe me big time. John: i do. saved my arse there. you: of course. it’s what I’m here for.  John: almost making it sound like you love me. you: no but I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. you: no way in hell you’re leaving me alone with 3 children. John: i see. selfish woman. you: shut up.  you: and try not torturing POWs next time. John: yes, ma’am.

Five occasions seem to be enough to keep a 23-year marriage afloat.

a/n: Big thanks to my beloved @crashtestbunny for helping draft/plot all these interactiions and just the general toxicity! And also @mothymunson your beloved Toxic!Price is here!

[ O, Captain! Masterlist ] || [ My Masterlist ]

#ikea writes 💚 #ocaptainchallenge #cod x reader #cod fanfic #masterlist #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #call of duty #cod fandom #captain price #captain john price x reader #captain price mw2 #price mw2 #price

[goldiesgrove]

Got the motivation to compile and finish all the vanillaverse sketches :D. most are from past posts but there are some new aus in this image as well ^^. stargallerys redeemed shadow milk isn't in colour because i wasn't able to find a ref for his colour palette so i am sorry about that ;v;

credits down below(warning, very long lol):

deceit of identity belongs to @tangents-from-an-awkward-void ,actor and the doll belongs to @shoople-aaa ,phantasmagoria belongs to @darkfluffydragon ,intertwined opposites belongs to @scarapanna ,bitter nightmare belongs to @groovyfrog420 ,blueberry milk belongs to @puppermation, trapped forever soul belongs to @sleepyflowershead ,Whispers of the Predator belongs to @vibke, dad! shadow milk belongs to @blueshadowdad, light milk belongs to @shadqw-milk, impure vanilla and the cotl crossover au belong to @silly-vanilla, born evil belongs to @ashuribbon, melty dough belongs to @onesacrificiallamb, fragmented knowledge belongs to @midnightsilverchelly, corrupted jam and redeemed shadow milk belongs to @star143gallery ,umbras swap au belongs to @umbraluminance , the other swap au belongs to @i-am-dumb ,shadow thorn belongs to @juartist ,shadow vanilla belongs to @saltghost, me and my shadow belongs to @raptor1312, obernices possessed pv belongs to ofc @obernice , polivine belongs to @itzrhymesgamers, zhivchikovs corrupted pv belongs to @zchivchikov ,patent lies belongs to @locosquif ,mirrored destinies belongs to @mime-the , possessed pv Maria belongs to @artflowerstudio and finally two truths and a lie belongs to @two-truths-and-a-lie

#pure vanilla cookie #shadow milk cookie #cookie run kingdom #pure vanilla crk #shadow milk crk #cookie run #crk #this took a few days to finish but im glad i did it #mostly just got tired of seeing the sketches unfinished and i figured it would be cool to see all of them in one picture :D #each au is just so unique in their own way and i have yet to find one i dislike

[lovelykhaleesiii]

hi! will you write an aegon x reader imagine in which they are married out of love. and after she gives birth, alicent (or otto idk) requests to see her child like she did to rhaenyra. like what would aegon do to see his wife in pain and how would he react? thank you!

Ugh, I live for this type of angst!!! I reckon Aegon would be so fucking pisssssed. How dare they try to get you to lift a finger, let alone stand after birthing his child!!!! sorry for the wait, hope you enjoy xx

Our Child.

PAIRING: Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,948.

WARNINGS: swearing, fluff, angst, Dad!Aegon, mentions of pregnancy/birth, mentions of bullying.

A/N - I apologise for getting carried away with the beginning lmao, but I felt the need to lay some background, so don't mind me. hope you enjoy!

Within this realm, gossip and scepticism was not unfamiliar territory. Especially regarding the livelihood and innocence of maidens such as yourself, whispers were constant, back and forth, the ongoing judgement would never be silenced although, you'd grown ignorant to. It did not matter, many accused you of being a whore, many expressed their disgust over hearing your so-called promiscuous nature, and many had ridiculed your poor upbringing.

"Surely, she's bedded men before, and the Prince seems to not mind? I heard she was betrothed to a farmer in the North, although ran away."

"Aegon is no saint either... Although he is a man, and men have needs."

"What would the Prince want with someone of her kind? She has nothing to offer, not even a dowry, and he is to be King."

The scrutiny was constant, and Aegon knew at times, no matter how well you masked it, that the words stung. He knew your story, having allowed him and granting him the time to really get to know you, Aegon had pestered you for so long, he listened and knew your truth.

The rest were all lies, deceit and gossip, for many lords had intended for their own daughters to wed the King to be.

"The realm have already made up their minds, Aegon, I stand no chance against them."

Aegon did not care. He loved you undeniably, and whatever he saw in you, made him a better man.

"They can answer to me, I'd like to hear their judgement directly."

It was true, no one dared to question Aegon's intentions with you, not at least in front of him. First off, he had a dragon. Secondly, a terribly, quick temper, the notorious Targaryen temper... The two fused well together depending on who asked.

Overtime, just as you always had, the scrutiny of the high class and council did not matter to you, for it was the least of your concerns.

Although, it bothered you greatly that his mother, Queen Alicent, had tuned into such gossip and determined herself that you unworthy.

She did not completely ignore your presence in the castle, although she was cold. She never warmed unto you like she did with other high-borne ladies, nor did she give you the chance to speak or tell your truth. Her mind was made.

Alicent was certain that you had other intentions with her son, that you'd wanted riches, gold, money, anything to help redeem your family's status in society. She assumed that you would use the Crown in all its glory, all through Aegon.

"I see you as you are, Y/N. Aegon may think with his cock when it comes to you, although I see right through you," Her words cut sharp as Valyrian blade, left you defeated and speechless.

Aegon knew of this, for he could tell how quickly your mood had shifted. He knew of his mother's sour attitude towards you, for she'd plead with him many times to let you go, even proposing the idea of offering you money in return that you leave King's Landing for good.

In despite of the adversity, Aegon held his ground, for one of the first times in his life. He remained with you, by your side relentlessly, and defended your honour. He often returned to your chambers tiresome of the repetitive quarrelling with his mother about you, and yet he did not intend to stop, until she'd accepted you. In time, he had asked for your hand, wedding you in a private ceremony, upholding his Valyrian heritage, and not before long, you were with child, Aegon's child and his rightful heir.

****

The birthing was difficult to say the least, going on for a fair few hours in the night, right until sunlight could be seen in the horizon. The instant cry of your newborn babe filled the room, and much to your relief, caused you to beam with a smile on your face, as you embraced the small bub in your arms.

"A boy, your Grace. Kicking like a goat," The experienced midwife exclaimed, as she tended to the sweat dripping on your face, and the blood marked on your cheeks, from kissing the babe, trying to make you somewhat decent if Aegon was to return.

Aegon although, desperate to be with you, was caught in a council meeting. Much to his dismay, his abrupt marriage to you left many lords in uproar as his family had promised them the opportunities for their daughters to meet the young Prince, determined to see if he'd take a liking to one of the them. Many now furious at the Crown, refusing to pay taxes and levies.

As you cradled the baby in your arms, enamoured by the bundle of joy, little shrouds of hair on his head, parallel to his father's Targaryen heritage, his nose even a copy of Aegon's. It was his little twin. Trying to take your son's presence all in, was suddenly interrupted by a loud knock on the door, jolting your attention towards the entrance. Your heart raced with excitement, as you'd relished in the image of Aegon rushing through to your bedside, meeting his newborn son for the first moment ever.

Much to your disappointment it was a knight, although, one that you'd grown familiar to seeing in the Queen's company.

"Apologies to bother you, your Grace. Although, Queen Alicent wishes to see you and the babe at this very moment."

A puzzled look drenched your face, as you scanned the faces of the midwives and maester present during your birth, each of them sharing a discerning look, some quickly looking to their shuffling feet, trying to seem busy.

"Right now?" You stuttered, holding your newborn tightly instinctively.

The knight merely nodded, as though hesitant to giving such orders considering the ordeal you'd endured just mere minutes ago.

Now you'd grown annoyed, you gestured for one of the midwives to hold your dear son, who continued to wail as he left your arms, whilst the others helped you to your feet, blood drenched clothes, pooling down your legs as you gained steadiness.

You couldn't stand by yourself, your head whirling and your belly and thighs aching in a dull pain, sudden movements and long strides caused sharp pains to bellow your lower back and hips, cramping your muscles. It was pain you'd never felt like before.

The maester attempted to convince you of taking milk of the poppy for the walk, although short, would be tormenting with the stairs you had to conquer.

Although, milk of the poppy made you feel weaker, less conscious. You did not want to wish dropping the babe in your arms, nor be less alert for Alicent.

The midwives carefully donned you in a clean, silk gown, attempting to make you as decent and proper as possible, for people began to bustle through the castle now. Hearing their conversations and steps outside the door, for it was morning and you'd grown familiar to its routine.

"Y/N dearest, perhaps we can send a message to the Queen that your condition does not allow for you to travel currently-" The maester pitied.

"No, it is fine. If this is what the Queen wants, this is what she shall get."

The midwife that had held your son, returned him to your arms, as the knight helped to guide you out, holding out his armoured arm as you gripped it tightly for support. Thankfully, he did not rush you, for he could see how slow and careful you were taking your steps.

Some lords and ladies passing by would congratulate you, whilst others remained ignorant to your presence, and some in pure shock that you were travelling in such a state.

Their whispers again, filled the morning air, although before reaching the steps, you'd taken a glance at your newborn son, snug in his blankets. Again, the same, warm smile gleamed on your face as you watched him, before a sharp pain pierced through your lower abdomen. Your grip on the knight tensed and he knew immediately, questioning if you wished to turn back.

"No-No, let's just fucking go."

As you took the first, agonising step up, a familiar voice yelled out your name. Slowly turning back, your body straining, resisting all the physical movement, you could see Aegon down the other side of the corridor, rushing past as he reached your side.

"What's the meaning of this, where are you going in such a state?"

He kept his focus on you, oblivious to the babe in your arms, as one hand massaged your back, whilst the other held your arm for support, as you began to cower in pain.

"Ughh-Y-Your mother, wanted t-to see the babe, now."

You stuttered, your voice trembling as the pain worsened the more you remained on your feet, becoming breathless by the second.

As you mentioned the babe, Aegon looked down, his eyes meeting his newborn son, a cherished look on his face appeared for a split second, before he realised the situation. His eyes darted towards the knight and commanded that he tell his mother, "That would not be wise, if she so wishes to see the babe, she can come down herself."

You reassured the knight that you were fine, as Aegon took his place by your side, turning you back around to your chambers, the midwives still present as they remained cleaning the bloody scene, were relieved to see you return. They all helped you back down cautiously, propping pillows behind your back for support, even preparing a small cup of milk of the poppy, now that you were rested in bed.

"What were you thinking Y/N? Don't you ever think that you need to prove yourself like that, my mother can answer to me."

"I-I don't know, Aegon. She is the Queen, a-and I thought... I am sorry husband."

Aegon had been pacing himself up and down the room, as the midwives left to give you both peace and privacy, shaking and rubbing his head. Out of fury, he slammed his fist against the wooden post of the bed railing, before calming himself. Seating himself down by your side, as he ran his fingers through his short, tussled platinum hair. A low sigh escaping his mouth, as he exchanged a worried look on his face, your hand reaching over to hold his reddened knuckles, as your thumb grazed the small, fresh cut.

"You-You my dearest, need not to apologise, you did nothing wrong. I just cannot fathom how my mother think it okay to torment you like that."

"I-I do not know, Aegon. But rest assured, our son is happy and healthy, come-"

You pulled his fingers, beckoning to come closer, as you pulled down the cover on your son's little face, despite all the mayhem that ensued following his birth, he remained quiet and slept. Unphased by the drama of his presence, he was your calm before the storm.

"He's beautiful isn't he? Our child." You softly whisper, as you looked up from the babe to Aegon, and back down again, gently cradling him in your arms.

Aegon's arm wrapped beneath yours, as his free hand, a finger gently grazed over his son's nose, dotting it. Helplessly, a smile beamed up on his face, as his son cooed against his father's touch.

"As angelic as his mother is." He uttered, before resting his head against your shoulder.

"She will be dealt with, Y/N. Rest assured, I will speak with her and it will be the last time we speak of this matter again. She did not deem me fit to be King before, she will now."

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfic requests #aegon ii targaryen angst #aegon imagine #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #king aegon ii targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagines #hotd imagine #hotd fanfiction #alicent hightower

[admirxation]

unfaithful | leon kennedy oneshot

pairing: older!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

summary: the reader cheats on their partner with their partners dad, leon.

disclaimer: this fic will deal with sensitive topics like cheating. this is a piece of fiction and i do not condone everything i write, cheating is a horrible thing to do and you should always communicate with your partner and shouldn’t hurt them. this is just fictional where real people cannot get hurt, cheating irl has its consequences and reflection of you as a person.

cw: slight mention of an age gap (both parties of age//18+), cheating (mentioned partner is gn), oral (f receiving), nipple pinching & sucking, neck kissing & biting, fingering, begging, p in v, edging, praising, unprotected sex and creampie.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this was the most voted wip that people wanted posted so i have delivered, im thinking of either working on my krauser wip or a gortash x durge (bg3 oneshot) alongside the perpetual chase. please engage if you like this and check my pinned post for any info on me or writing status, mwah mwah mwah xoxo

Another night in your partner’s room, lying on the soft covers as you watched their face as they drifted into a dream world, unaware of all surroundings — unaware of your unfaithfulness. You were thankful for how much of a heavy sleeper they were, watching as their messy hair framed their face, the occasional strand neatly dangling in the middle of their forehead; you could tell they were content, the perfect opportunity to fulfil a long-concealed secret. This was routine now; you would wait for your partner to fall asleep first, guaranteed if you could sneak a bit of caffeine before bed without them knowing, but more times than not, the adrenaline of knowing you were going to be with Leon helped you wait for them to fall asleep.

You knew Leon — your partner’s father — was waiting, so you slowly moved to enter the room of routinely secrets. You couldn’t stop thinking about him whenever you went over, having to wait every night for some fun. Leon was the one who started all of this; he was the one who watched you intently every time you came over; these looks that started the deceit. You continued to watch your partner as you tiptoed out of your bed and moved to the door where you always left a smidge open so the latch never made a sound, praying the floorboards wouldn’t creek and releasing slow and deep breaths when slipping away. While walking outside the room, you always had an excuse prepared, just in case they had awoken; it ranged from getting a glass of water, going to the bathroom, or even getting a snack. There was a part of your conscience that kicked in and made your heart feel heavy for a moment, but like every single time, excitement and adrenaline overrode your morality and helped you continue your route to Leon.

You and your partner had only been dating for a few months — meeting each other at college — but there was something off with them. The first night you laid together and shared each other’s bodies, you were expecting to feel excited, elated, and lovestruck, but you felt unfilled, even empty, after it was done. You thought this was just a one-time thing where you needed to get used to each other, but it kept happening; no matter how many new things you introduced, you only felt religion when you shared an intimate moment and tried to avoid it — but you never dared to express how you were truly feeling. You thought maybe it was a sign of your body rejecting them, telling you that you weren’t supposed to be together, but you tried to silence and push rationality away into an unconscious that would only intrude on an absent thought or dream. You knew you were a bad person; you never tried to twist this into you being the good guy, but you also had a selfish desire not to push them away, afterall they stopped your loneliness for a while. It was selfish, deceitful, every word in the book to describe this, but being with them was the ticket to a distraction for you and the route to Leon’s bedroom.

You felt the carpet against your feet as you made slow and calculated steps that inched closer and closer to Leon’s door, which was already opened a crack — the perfect signal of invitation. As you pressed your hand on the wooden door, you remembered when you first met your partner’s family. They were friendly and welcoming, and you were happy to be accepted in the family, but Leon was not just giving you the friendly and welcoming looks; no, his stares were a look of longing and lust as he stared at your frame, visually objectifying and seeing you as a vision of temptation. When you first met him, you admitted to yourself in a thought or two that he was a very attractive older man who presented himself well and even had that alluring mystery and darkness that made everyone want to get to know him, to break away that tough exterior front. The night you met him, you felt a tingling within your stomach that continued every time you shared a night. Still, that night, you two were in the kitchen, starting a suggestive conversation that turned to intimate touches on your thighs, then your waist, him whispering every compliment and dirty thought into your ear — and it only continued from there.

You quickly moved to close the door behind you and quietly locking it, releasing a heavy breath inside you as you sneaked around. Eventually, you turned to look at Leon; he was sitting in only his boxers, like he always would, looking at you up and down with the same playful and expecting smirk that would wait for your arranged nights together.

“Thought we agreed at 3 am?” he showed you his phone, showing the time was 3:15, playfully teasing you about your poor time management.

“They were taking forever to sleep,” you said, moving onto the bed beside him. Leon then pressed his hand on your thigh, starting an early tingle of excitement within you, “You know that I do come to your room… Eventually. When have I ever backed out?”

You both kept a whispered hush in your tone of voice, secrecy adding to the thrill that would conquer the guilt that momentarily manifested inside of you, but never Leon, from the seems of it. Leon continued to graze his fingers on the soft plush of your inner thigh, moving his fingers further upwards to your tingling and expecting core before tucking the tips of his fingers under the band of your underwear, using his free hand to place them on your cheek, his thumb grazing on your cheek to admire your beauty before he leaned in for a sweet kiss. A kiss that grew in passion, movement, and speed as he moved from your soft lips and made his way to your neck to place tender kisses, closing your eyes as you released your deep breaths and felt Leon’s soft lips and warm breath on your delicate skin.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked as you were a little hesitant in your movements, “Are you not feeling up to it tonight,” he said in a deep, silky voice.

“Nothing… Just a moment of guilt,” you confessed.

“I think you should be over this guilt… Face it… You’re mine now, you won’t be going back to them… Now, be a good girl,” he placed his hands on the hem of your shirt, waiting for your answer before taking it off.

“True,” Leon smirked at your acceptance, removing your shirt and throwing it to the floor, now met with your perfect frame and naked upper body for him to admire.

He gently pushed you onto the bed, your back feeling the cold soft covers, then a sensation of warmth from Leon as he climbed on top of you, his knee tucking underneath your left knee and moving to separate your legs as he placed himself neatly in the middle, leaning in to continue kissing your neck. You released laboured breaths and soft moans as he nestled his soft lips on the skin of your neck, occasionally biting you, sending a thrill coursing through your body and grabbing onto him a little harder from the sudden but frequent surprise. Moving lower and placing sweet and small kisses as he moved to your exposed breasts, using his tongue to swirl around your erect nipple, his hand giving attention to the other as he squeezed the bud as he licked and sucked the other.

“Fuck,” you released in a hushed whisper, arching your back the harder he would have fun with your body, that previous guilt melting away as you closed your eyes and let Leon take you into a sea of concupiscent sensations, “mmmhh,” you continued to share your thrill through the exchange of noise.

“Such a beautiful girl,” he said in that deep, rich tone that growled possession over you, the voice that made you forget every moral and every memory of your partner. You were Leon’s for tonight and every other time he desired you.

He moved his hand down from your breast, sliding it down your torso, making his way to your already pulsating core that was getting wet just waiting for Leon, his fingers now at your clothed pussy, him smirking with already being able to feel the damp patch, rubbing circles before removing the clothed barrier, dragging your damp pants down your legs and carelessly dropping it on his bedroom floor. You gasped at the contact of his flesh on your centre, causing you to instinctively grind onto his fingers; he looked at you with that lustrous darkness in his eyes as he gently slid his index finger along your folds, teasing you with only the tips of his fingers, asking for entrance then shying away; he continued this and played with your expectations, getting harder the more you held your breath ready for his entrance.

“P-please, Leon… Please,” you begged.

He smirked once more before gently sliding his large fingers inside your wet pussy, your walls of warmth surrounding them and causing his cock to twitch inside his pants as he saw you squirm under his control and the feeling of your heat; he moved them in and out, keeping a steady rhythm before picking up the pace, making you release laboured and deeper breaths. He watched your pussy, hungrily as you closed your eyes and bit your lip, clutching to your bed covers as he roughly manipulated your senses.

“Such a beautiful girl,” he said under his breath, making you blush and feel warm as he complimented you and made you feel like your body belonged under Leon’s.

He watched you intently as he continued to ram his fingers inside you, watching your chest rise and collapse under your breathing patterns, waiting for when you were going to release yourself; just as you were about to release, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, seeing a blurred vision — but then it all stopped. Disappointed, you opened your eyes and looked at Leon, hungry for more. You were disappointed when you were so close; it felt cruel not to allow you that sweet release.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart… I won’t leave you like that,” he cooed as he lowered himself to have his face align with your wet pussy; he felt his hard cock press against the bed.

He teased you with small licks along your slit, causing a shiver to run down your spin, biting your lip as you waited for more; Leon then pressed his lips on your puffy clit, sucking the sensitive bud that made your squirm under his manipulation, your unfaithfulness was something your forget about with the waves and tides of pleasure and sensation. His fingers went back inside to feel your walls as he continued to suck and pump his fingers, you clenching onto the covers again. But he stopped again just as you were grinding your hips into his mouth.

He loved to toy with you.

You saw that smirk he had as he raised himself and took his pants off, revealing his hard and throbbing erection that was begging to be inside of you; you blushed and felt a wave of warmness slide within your body before he pressed his tip along your slit, teasing you more and more with pressing only the head inside you, then moving out. In and out, he continued, and a jolt of arousal spiked within Leon as he saw your expecting face and your disappointment every time.

“How much do you want me?”

“S-so much, p-please… I want you so bad,” you whimpered.

“Come on, sweetheart; you can beg a little better than that… Start again,” he continued to slightly move his hips as he teased you with the tip of his large cock.

“J-j-just fuck me… Please, I’m all yours; just do it already,” you continued to beg, feeling agitated and wanting to feel what you had come over for; you liked and hated how much control he had over your desires.

Leon loved how much control he had over you; you were his; you were only your partners in social titles, but your body was connected with Leon, and he hoped you would remain connected through your need and desire to be consumed by your appetite for him and his body. Just when he had felt like you begged him enough, proved you wanted, no, yearned for him, he forcefully rammed his length inside of you, causing you to release a high-pitched yelp and the causation of your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to grow accustomed to his length.

“Shhh, shh, shh, not a sound out of that pretty little mouth of yours… We don’t want them to know,” he cooed to you as he placed his rough, calloused hands on your waist and thrusted himself inside your cunt.

“Mmmh,” you continued, moaning and trying to keep your level of noise to a minimum, not wanting the night to be interrupted by the secret being known.

You felt the tip of Leon’s cock kiss your cervix, feeling like it was getting bruised with his handling of you and the length that he pumped inside and out. Immoral unfaithfulness felt so good; it was wrong, and this shouldn’t happen, but it all slipped away when Leon had his way with you. Lost in your sensations when giving your body to him freely and letting your walls clasp around his member, an intimate embrace that begged for Leon never to stop and never to leave you wanting more.

The room was full of the sound of your sweet moans, Leon’s deep and laboured breaths as he pumped himself deeper and deeper into your sweet pussy.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he continued to praise you, watching as your tits bounced with every thrust he pounded into you; he saw you as a vision of beauty and temptation he needed to indulge himself into every time he was in your presence.

Just as he was lost in his admiration for you, you rolled your eyes to the back of your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you bit your soft bottom lip, gripping your hands on his arms as he continued to fuck you senseless, finally being able to release that built up arousal from him constantly teasing you. He could tell by how your body tensed up and how your face seemed like it drifted off into another world; he took this as an invitation to release a pool of warmth inside you, leaving you both to gasp for air as you finished and left to process how good it was to share each other’s company.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #fanfiction #leon s kennedy x reader #older!leon kennedy #leon kennedy infinite darkness #infinite darkness leon #leon s kennedy x fem! reader #older!leon kennedy x fem!reader #cheating #read the warnings

[fallenangelkitten]

Deceit and Deception 

Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Mike, is taking you to meet his father for the first time. But you’re a naughty girl and you’ve caught Daddy Sy’s eye.

Warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, age gap, multiple partners, praise kink

Note: I used to be fallenangelbb here on the Henry Cavill side of tumblr but deleted my account and have regretted it ever since. So here I am reposting my work :)

Your fingers fumbled with your phone that rested in your lap. One of Mike’s hands kept to the steering wheel, while the other lazily held his cigarette out of the window. The sight of smoke drifting from his lips almost clouded your mind from your thoughts.

But not quite.

You had never met your boyfriend’s father- even after almost a full year of dating one another. Tonight was one of Mikey’s brilliant ideas; an afternoon spent at his dad’s house having, what you assumed would be, the most awkward dinner of your existence.

After putting out his cigarette, a warm hand met your cheek, his thumb pulling your bottom lip from between your teeth. “Sweet cheeks, it’s gonna be fine. No need to be nervous, okay?”

You only groaned and dramatically sagged into the passenger seat. As you leaned your head against the cool window, he pulled the car into the driveway of an ordinary, but well taken care of home.

Your stomach plummeted.

Mikey unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over to you. His lips gently met with your exposed neck before grazing your ear. “We’re early, let me distract you,” he whispered, returning to your neck.

Your eyes flashed outside, quickly scanning. The sun was gradually descending. The tint on his windows were darker than the law allowed, easily shielding the two of you. Even as heat coiled in the pit of your stomach, you couldn’t help but feel nervous.

One of his hands reached behind him to push his seat back. The other spread warmth across your bare thigh as he fumbled with your belt. With one final glance outside, your head turned to collide your lips with his.

His tongue immediately found yours, the faint taste of smoke still lingered. He eagerly pawed at your breast and scooped you into his lap. Even with his seat pushed back, the steering wheel dug into your back as he freed himself from his pants. You wet your lips at the sight of him, eager to lower yourself onto him. He pulled your skirt up higher onto your waist and dipped his hand between your legs to shift your panties to the side.

His head tipped back against the seat, a groan leaving him. “You’re always so wet for me.”

You began to giggle but the air quickly lodged in your throat as he ran the tip along your entrance. You quickly gripped his shoulders in your hands and sank onto him. You sighed- nothing was better than being filled with him.

You rocked against him, bringing your lips down to his neck and nibbled. His hands squeezed your ass tighter as you licked from the base of his neck to his ear. “Cum for me, lover boy,” you cooed.

You felt his cock begin to twitch as you ground your hips into his. “That’s it,” you whispered against his lips before biting his lower one. His head fell onto your shoulder, a soft cry muffled by your hair. You kept your pace steady as the feeling of his cum inside of you sent you over the edge.

You shuttered against him, a light sheen of sweat coating your brow. His palm pet the back of your head, trailing down your spine and down to your hips to help you off of his lap. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before getting out of the car to open your door for you.

“My lady,” he said while dramatically bowing. You giggled and took his hand.

After Mikey knocked on the door, a large man opened it; he had to have been the biggest man you had ever seen. A beard covered a decent portion of his face, while the rest had been kissed by the sun. As he pulled his son in for a hug, you couldn’t help but admire the muscles bulging through his shirt.

You desperately tried to quiet your mind as his blue eyes locked onto you- taking note that he shared that same patch of brown in one with his son. You scrambled to shift your bag to your other arm to shake his outstretched hand.

“M-Mr. Syverson, it’s so nice to meet you,” his skin was rough but warm against yours. Your eyes flashed back to his, where something began to pool and darken. A shiver made its way through your spine as a smirk teased the corner of his lips.

“Please, call me Sy.”

You let go of his hand and quickly returned to holding Mikes, unnerved by how quickly your body reacted to his fathers. Your lip made its way between your teeth once more.

“Well, get off my porch and come on in,” he gruffed. “Foods already on the table. Ordered some good ol’ pizza!” He called in as Mikey and I took our seats at the small table.

Mr. Syverson’s home was very minimally decorated- only a few pictures clung to the white walls, along with a handful of metals resting on a table by the door. They were encased behind glass, a picture of a squad resting behind it.

“Were you in the military?” You asked as he took the seat in front of you.

He took his time to answer you. His tongue swiped across his lips as his hand rubbed his beard. His eyes scanned you, making you feel exposed in a way that made goosebumps rise on your arms. “Mhm, learned about Mikey while deployed.”

You tried to hide your shock; he never really spoke about his father, only small comments here and there. Your head swiveled to him, a brow raised.

“And here we are, living the fucking dream,” he mumbled through the bite of pizza he’d just taken.

Sy cleared his throat and shot him a look. You couldn’t help but squeeze your legs together, a sharp breath hitching in your throat. You made yourself look busy with your food, too embarrassed to see if anyone noticed.

The room was beginning to feel hot and stuffy. “I’m going to the restroom. Um, where is it?” you asked Mikey.

He directed you down a hall on the other side of the home. You sighed as you shut the door behind you, leaning against the wall. What had you gotten yourself into? Without warning, the door opened behind you. Sy barged in, eyes blazing as they locked onto you.

“Oh! I’m sorry, did you need the bathroom? I can go-” your own gasp cut you off. One of his large hands took both of your wrists and pinned them above you. Your shock left you frozen, eyes wide.

“You think I didn’t notice?” He growled, lips colliding with your neck- where Mikey’s had just been. “You’ve been lookin at me like I’m the first man you’ve ever seen.”

You had been, and you couldn’t help his name breathlessly leaving your lips as he assaulted your neck. You felt a wicked smile form against your skin.

You should have stopped.

You shouldn’t have moaned his name.

You should have been moving the hand that was tugging your skirt down your legs and pawing at your breasts.

But your lips only parted, and his name fell from them like it’d been waiting there your whole life. Your need for him clouded your thoughts. Your bare hips bucked to meet his, your body desperate for him.

He tore away from your neck. His sinful, lust blown eyes meeting yours was the only warning you had before he swiftly tugged you away from the wall, shifting you to the sink. He pressed you into the counter, facing the mirror, keeping one of your hands behind your back.

The rough fabric of his pants rubbed against your bare skin as he pressed his hard length against your ass. Sy held your stare in the mirror, daring you to deny your need for him- to give you the chance to say no, but you knew you wouldn’t. And so did he.

The hand gripping your wrist pushed against your back, forcing you to bend over the counter. You could barely hold back your whimper when his knuckles brushed against your core so he could unbuckle his pants. You wanted to push back on him, rub your dripping cunt against him, but he had you pinned firmly.

He chuckled. “You’re such a dirty little girl, (y/n).”

The thick head of his cock brushed against your entrance before sheathing himself into you. His hand covered your mouth, suffocating the moan he brought from your body. His beard scratched against your shoulder as he bent down to whisper in your ear, “Gonna have to keep quiet if you wanna fuck your little boyfriend’s Daddy.”

He held himself in you, his hips pinning yours to the counter. You desperately tried to gain some friction, but his reflection only smirked at you. He tugged you back until your spine was arched and pressed against him, breasts thrust forward. The fabric of your shirt rubbed against their aching peaks.

Sy slowly pulled himself out of you, only to slam himself back in. He was ruthless, his hand gripping your hip enough to leave a beautiful bruise in its wake. His hand on your mouth shifted down to your neck, wrapping around it like a collar.

“Tap the counter to stop. And keep quiet,” he ordered.

His thumb and fingers pressed into the sides of your neck, choking you. You almost began to panic, but your eyes locked with his in the mirror and kept your focus on the feeling of him tunneling in and out of your cunt.

He squeezed your neck tighter as he quickened his pace and began to fuck you harder. Harder and harder until you became lost on where he began and where you ended.

Spots danced before your eyes, your body feeling weightless. Everything became hazy right before he let go, and you gasped, sucking air as deep into your lungs as possible. He brought his hand back to your mouth as your whole body tingled and throbbed, your cry muffled by his palm. You’d been so lost in your own rush of pleasure that you barely noticed him groaning into your neck, his cum spilling into you.

Your shallow breaths filled the bathroom. Your arms and legs still tingled, but his hands on your waist kept you steady.

“You did so good, little girl.” He placed a kiss on your shoulder and gave your behind a squeeze. “I’m going to leave first, you follow.”

You nodded and bent down to grab your clothes, but he quickly took your panties from your grasp. “Hey!” You whispered, trying to snatch them back.

He chuckled and slipped them into his pocket. “Sugarcane, these are mine now,” he said with a smirk and slipped through the door.

You took a few moments to collect yourself before slipping your skirt back on and opening the door. You gasped, startled to see your boyfriend in the entrance.

“I was just coming to check on you.”

Mike pressed a kiss to your cheek as you felt his fathers cum begin to drip down your thighs.

[jeonjklibs]

BROTHERS BESTFRIEND || JJK

PAIRING - Gojo x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS - Your older brother Geto invites his friends over for the weekend. The plan was spending your weekend studying, but is soon interrupted by a deceitful and very much inappropriate desire; your brother’s hot friend.

WORD COUNT - 1.6k

CONTENTS - implied age gap + heavy contents of smut (minors DNI !!!)

A/N - this was written by my friend and the idea was based off of a dream I had last night LMAO. This is one of the first stories she's ever written. We made this within a day so sorry if it isn't the greatest, but nonetheless we hope you enjoy reading!

I just got back home from school, and even though I’m home the lingering feeling of stress due to exams being soon is still very present. 

I decided to take some time before indulging into countless hours of studying. The thought of it is so dreadful you’d rather listen to your best friend talk about her meaningless hookups with random men than do anything related to school.

It’s almost 4:30pm, and it’s been an hour since I got home, usually my brother would be back by now. You start to wonder where he could be but you remember you need to focus on studying. You grab your textbooks and notes from your bag and as you're about to start reviewing you hear the front door slam open, followed by a loud noise.

Irritated, you mindlessly leave your room and start expressing your annoyance at Geto. 

“Geto, your being too loud, I am trying to study, and I—-,” you cut yourself off as you realize that not only is your brother now home, he brought two of his friends with him. 

Annoyed, you ask “why are all your friends here, usually you go to their place,” 

“Since mom and dad are away, I thought it would be okay if my friends stayed over for the weekend.”  He replies displeased.

Standing there annoyed, you couldn’t help but notice that one of his friend’s has been staring at you intently. Confused, you look over and make direct eye contact, noticing it was Satoru Gojo. Yet slightly annoyed by the interference, you break eye contact, turn around and march back to your room. As you are walking down the hall you still can’t shake the feeling that he is still staring at you.

As you sit down at your desk, you find yourself in disbelief that your brother of all people could be friends with the most known fuckboys at your school. Especially Gojo, the amount of girls he goes through is demented. I couldn’t understand why he was staring at me the way he was. Slightly irritated, but aware there’s nothing you can do, you get back to studying and try to forget about everything.

An hour or so of studying passes, you hear a knock at your door, and say “come in,” thinking it was Geto, to your disapproval Gojo walks in. “Where's Geto?” you ask him with a confused look on your face. 

“They went to the store, I decided to stay back,” he replies, slightly leaning his back onto the door frame. Staring at him bewildered, you ask “and… you’re here why?...” The room was deafening. The awkward silence in the room was dreadful, and to make matters worse he was just staring at you. It’s like he was analyzing every detail of my face. 

“I don’t really know, I just decided to stay back” he says unbothered, his eyes still staring. Glancing at him staring, his bright blue eyes are piercing into your soul, you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, but a slight coyness builds inside of you. 

“What do you want, Gojo?” you question sternly.

He pauses and says, “I just felt like you could use some company, and I’m one of your brother’s friends, so you should call me by my first name, it’s Satoru, if you were unaware.” He says with a sly smirk. Your face begins to flush as you realize Satoru Gojo is flirting with you. 

Although repulsed, you are bored out of your mind from studying, so you decide to play along, just this once. “Okay Satoru, what do you want to do then?” As those words leave your mouth, you lock eyes with Gojo. He leans off the door frame and begins to approach you slowly.  

As he inches closer to you, your heart begins to race. He stops in front of you leaving a small gap separating the both of you. You are shamefully turned on by this man standing in front of you, but are also disgusted by these feelings. You begin to break eye contact and turn your head away from him out of guilt, but before you can manage to he grabs ur face forcing you to look into his eyes yet again. 

“You’re the prettiest little thing, let me keep looking at you,” He says in a soft tone. You are surprised that he can speak so softly, that he doesn’t always sound like some cocky bigshot. You look at him in awe, your face flushed, you're speechless. 

In a sudden movement, Satoru closes the gap in between you and presses his soft lips against yours. He pulls back ever so slightly, looking into your eyes lustfully. 

“Your lips taste so sweet,” he says, licking his lips, a slight smirk creeping on his face.

A warmth arises in your stomach. Looking up into his luminous blue eyes. You're confused, baffled even at the events that have just occurred. Your feelings are conflicted, but you found pleasure in the kiss and wouldn’t mind if more were to happen. 

As you yearn for more, you close the gap yet again and your lips touch his, the kiss is so soft and slow, soon Satoru’s tongue desperately finds a way into your mouth, and your bodies are so close, you feel yourself craving more of him, more of Satoru.

His hands begin traveling from your neck to your breast, your body aching for him. You start leaving soft kisses around his neck, and start teasing his waistband with your thumb. He pulls away and takes off his shirt, you notice that he is much more muscular than you anticipated, turning you on even more. You gradually place kisses on his chest down to his v-line, you feel his bulge in his pants and you know that he yearns for you too. 

You lower yourself perfectly and begin to unzip his pants, as Satoru is playing with your hair, you pull his underwear down and reveal his dick, it’s veiny and his length is somehow bigger than his ego. 

Starting by teasing the tip and licking up the front of his shaft, you take all of his length in your mouth and down into your throat. Satoru begins to roughly shove his dick in and out of your mouth, causing you to moan. Grunting and praising you, Satoru pulls your hair tightly, and breathes heavily. Eventually, Gojo slows down and you can feel his dick pulsating, you begin to bob your head, allowing him to finish in the back of your throat. 

Gojo, panting, smirks and says “You were so good to me, now let me do the same to you.” He lifts you up and sits you on your bed. He starts kissing your body and teasing you, lightly brushing his fingers between your legs, he begins taking off your shirt unveiling your breast. He looks at your body and tells you “you’re perfect,” he grabs your wrists and pushes you down onto the bed. Gojo leans over you, never lifting his gaze off of you. 

He kisses you softly and slides his fingers into your panties, starting to rub your clit. He takes off your underwear, and slides his fingers into you, you let out a soft moan. His fingers are so long, they’re more than enough to satisfy you.

You start to grind on his fingers, and Satoru starts to suck on your nipples, sending more and more pleasure into your core. Unable to contain yourself, you moan, “Satoru please.” This makes Satoru go crazy, he pulls his fingers out and grips his dick. He starts to rub your clit with his pink tip. This, the teasing, the anticipation is killing you, you look into his eyes practically begging him for it.

He slides his dick inside of you, he starts slow in order to give you time to adjust to his size. He grunts as he pumps in and out, both of you feeling the pleasure from each other's bodies. You grab on to his veiny, muscular arms as you can’t control yourself anymore, the knot in your stomach begins to undo. Satoru continues to stimulate you past your limit. You’ve came and now the overstimulation sends you into oblivion. Gojo’s grunts are getting louder and louder, you know he’s close.

You look up to him in desperation as your body is electrified with pleasure, and you manage to let out a “please,” gripping onto his arms and digging your nails into his skin, you feel him slow down as you can feel him fill you up with his warmth. 

After he pulls out, you can still feel the pulsating between your legs, He lays on top of you panting and your body is trembling from the pleasure he inflicted onto you. You both lay there in awe catching your breaths. You are badly ashamed of what you had just done, you couldn’t believe what you just did with Satoru.

After laying there for a few minutes…

Gojo admits to you, “you know I’ve wanted to do this for a while.” 

Confused, you ask, “What do you mean by that?” 

“I've seen you around campus for quite awhile now, it’s a surprise you were Suguru’s sister, you’re polar opposites.”

Starting to feel angry you ask, “so was this just one of your MANY conquests?”

…

“Satoru, are you going to answer me?

Suddenly you hear the front door open, and Geto yells out Satoru’s name, “Satoru, we’re back.”  

Gojo gets up and scrambles to get dressed, his shirt half on as he’s scurrying to the door. Before he leaves he looks back at you, a small smirk plastered across his face.

“See you tomorrow, y/n.”

#jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo smut #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen smut #gojo x yn #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #smut #jjk thirsts #jujutsu gojo #jujustu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader