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yuwuta · 25 days

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JUST KEEP LOVING ME THE WAY I LOVE YOU LOVING ME — SATORU GOJO

pairings. satoru gojo/reader

content, warnings. non-curse au, doctor au (reader), ceo au (satoru), no real content warnings, fluff, satoru is nothing but a romantic at heart

word count. 3k

notes. this exists in the post-completion au of a larger universe/incomplete fic of mine, that i will hopefully finish someday lololol but this is way easier to write than that so here you go 🥳

“There are four chairs worth a collective seventy-five hundred dollars in this office, so, pray, tell, why is your ass on my desk?”

Satoru grins at your words, too distracted by taking in the sight of you to take into consideration the underlying threat. It’s been far too long, almost three whole days since he’s last seen you and, god, you look good. He knows if he said that you’d roll your eyes and insist that there’s nothing good-looking about your worn-in business attire and lab coat that was in desperate need of laundering, but it wouldn’t change his opinion: you always look good, and Satoru really fucking missed you.

Which is why he doesn’t say the words, but makes sure to throw a deceivingly charming wink your way so that you get the message anyway. As expected, you still roll your eyes, but he doesn’t mind; you look good doing that, too.

“Seriously, Satoru, what are you doing here?” you question, closing the door behind you when you fully step into the room. You make pace towards your desk, attempting to get to the other side, but this is exactly why Satoru chose to lean against it instead of sitting on any one of your very expensive and comfortable chairs—because this way, he’s in the perfect position to intercept your path and pull you to fit neatly between his legs before you can even think about reaching your office chair and ignoring him.

He pulls you by the loop of your lab coat, but his hands quickly find their way to your shoulders, unpeeling the white layer just enough so that your blouse is exposed to him, and he can slowly rub his palms against your arms and shoulders with just enough pressure to hopefully release some tension. You won’t let go of all of it, but that’s alright, because Satoru’s got other methods for taking care of you.

“Hi,” he calls, smiling gently down at you, “I missed you.”

This close, Satoru can see the exhaustion clearly in your eyes. There’s more, too: frustration, guilt, worry—and it takes everything in him not to coo and pull you into his chest and do his best to shield you from the world forever.

There’s a beat before you speak, a small sigh, that’s quickly painted over with a tired smile and a remorseful, “I missed you, too. I’m sorry for being so short, the interim chief has been getting on my last nerves, and—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Satoru cuts in, leaning forward to press a reassuring kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax under his touch. “I know you’re busy. I just missed you.”

It’s not easy to share you with anything or anyone, but Satoru knows that even on the hardest days, you love your job, and that so many people need your brilliant mind. What he does mind is when people make your job harder than it needs to be, and he’s been getting an earful about this new interim chief from just about everybody—you, Kento, Yuuji, Ieiri, even some of your favorite scrub nurses have indulged him in the gossip about the newest common enemy—and he doesn’t appreciate that someone is putting extra stress on his baby. So, even if it is a makeshift massage in your office and distracting you from your paperwork, Satoru will do what he can to help you relieve tension.

You reach your arms to wrap them around his shoulders, taking a half step closer to him, peering up at him. Satoru loves when your arms are around his neck like this; he can’t quite pinpoint why—maybe it’s the way you have to crane your neck to look up at him, the way you’re perfectly nestled under his view, the feeling of being wrapped in you. He does his best to close the loop of your intimacy, resting his hands on the small of your back and pulling you impossibly closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax into his touch.

“You’re sweet,” you smile, rubbing your thumb against the shorter hairs at the back of his head. Satoru feels himself melt into you, too. It’s been too long since you’ve been this close, three whole days too long. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, baby,” he smiles, stealing a gentle kiss. Satoru loves this the most, loves the feeling of your lips on his—and it’s definitely been too long since he’s kissed you, so he makes sure to do it again, and once more after that for good measure.

But it’s not enough. He’ll have to take you home, sit you on the couch so he can kiss you all night and make up for the lack of kisses and touches and youness he’s been deprived of these past few days. But first, he’ll have to pull you away from your work, and that’s not easy work.

“Come home,” he muses, leaning his forehead against yours, “We can order in, and share your favorite bottle of wine, and watch a movie.”

You lean up to kiss him briefly. “Every time we share a bottle of wine, we end up making out and not watching anything.”

“Do we?” Satoru feigns innocence, “I never noticed. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, though.”

“Satoru,” you whisper, quiet but firm, with a smile that lets him know you want to, but you can’t. It’s a tone that Satoru knows all too well, and isn’t particularly fond of. “I have charts to finish.”

“Finish them tomorrow,” he steals another kiss, “Or pawn them off on Kento,” another kiss, “Or Yuuji. Residents always need more experience—isn’t that what you and Ieiri always say?”

You let him kiss you again, and again, and again. Each time a little longer, a little warmer, a little less innocent than the last, growing from a little, to a lot, to all-consuming. Satoru hums when he feels your nails raking through his hair; an unfortunate move, as the sound pulls you back to reality and away from him in a decrescendo of kisses.

“You’re really good at that,” you laugh, voice soft.

“At kissing?” Satoru dips his head down to taste your laughter against his lips, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice with a very pretty girl.”

“No,” and you’re laughing again, louder this time, and Satoru counts every little giggle as a victory, “You’re good at... seducing me without saying you’re seducing me.”

“Oh, that?” he grins, tucking his pointer and index finger under your chin to meet you in a knowing kiss, “Yeah, that’s a talent of mine, too.”

You let him steal one more, and Satoru doesn’t take it for granted. “Come home,” he whispers against your lips before slotting them in yet another kiss, “I miss you.”

And he can feel it when you finally break, sighing into the kiss, and melting into his touch completely. One more, he just needs one more kiss to seal the deal, and then—“Fine,” you concede, “But I get to choose where to get dinner from.”

“Of course, sweets, whatever you want,” Satoru grins, pulling back to kiss your forehead again, “Now—shall we? If we order in the car, we can probably pick it up on our way home.”

He’s in the home stretch now, but he’s not completely free: if you catch a glimpse of your work, or someone comes in to find you, or your godforsaken pager beeps then all of his plans could come crumbling down before him. The key to transitioning from the “you’ve agreed to come home with him early stage”—if you can count 9:45pm, coming off of a 17-hour work day as early—to the “we are actually leaving this hospital and nobody can stop us phase” is swiftness. This time period is critical, and Satoru is ready for the sprint.

He shimmies your lab coat all the way off of your body for you, checking for the weight of your pager in your right pocket, before hanging it on the back of your chair. He shoos you to grab your coat, and makes sure you don’t get within three feet of this side of your desk—taking your purse out of your locked drawer and closing an open file folder in the time it takes you to slip out of your heels and into your sneakers, and by the time you’re turning back around, Satoru is already there next to you, with your purse in one hand, and his other hovering on the light switch.

He makes sure you’re out the door first, and flickers off the light with a satisfied grin. His baby was coming home early with him, and there is nothing else he’d rather do than spend time pampering you.

You must truly be more tired than you know, because you make no protest when he slings an arm over your shoulder on your way out of the elevator. Usually, you chastise him for any PDA within hospital walls, but tonight you let it be, even leaning some of your body weight against his as you walk. Satoru’s not complaining at all, maybe he’ll try his luck and sneak a kiss on your cheek.

He decides to go for it, leaning over for a kiss, when you suddenly pull away, turning and patting against your side. Confused, and disappointed, Satoru pouts, “We’ve really got to work on this fear of affection you’ve got going on, sweets. It’s the leading cause of makesatorupout-itis.”

“We’ve been over this—you can’t just add “itis” to the end of your words to make them diagnostic,” you giggle, “I was looking for my keys.”

Satoru’s frown deepens. “You have the fancy reserved doctor parking space, they can’t tow you. So, we can take my car home.”

“No, we cannot, because I do not trust you to wake up and drive me back tomorrow morning.”

“Then I’ll get you a cab in the morning, or—even better, I’ll call Ichiji to pick you up.”

“Ichiji is still in Paris,” you remind him. Satoru purses his lips. He did ask Ichiji to stay with Megumi. Damn it.

“I have other cars, you can drive one of them in the morning.”

“And park it where?”

“In your fancy reserved doctor parking—oh, okay I see the flaw there,” Satoru pulls back. You find amusement in his disappointment, but he doesn’t think there’s anything funny here.

He shakes his head. He should have taken a cab from his office, but this is okay, a minor setback, nothing he can’t think around. “New plan: we take your car, and I’ll come by to get mine tomorrow. Easy peasy.”

“Yours will be towed by then.”

“That’s fine,” Satoru shrugs, “I can afford a tow fee.”

“Satoru,” you call, reaching your free hand up to place your palm against his cheek, “We both drive home. It’ll be thirty minutes, tops. Forty if there’s traffic, but if you stop pouting and we leave now, we should be fine.”

Satoru sighs. He knows that’s the most reasonable plan of action, but the simple truth is that he doesn’t want to be away from you right now, even to go the short distance home. He’s already spent the last few days without you, and even though this is calling it in early for you, he only gets maybe four hours awake with you before you’re off again. Thinking about that makes him miss you again already. Pathetic, maybe, but he doesn’t care.

“Oh, Dr. (_____), hey!” Yuuji’s voice is an easily distinguishable interruption to your petty argument, and Satoru’s sulking, “Perfect timing—I’m glad I caught you before you left. Is it okay if I ask you to sign something before you go?”

You easily warm up to the younger boy and agree, fondly making conversation with Yuuji as he scrolls through some documents on his tablet. And just as you’ve finished scribbling your signature along the screen, Satoru has a bright idea.

“Hey, Yuuji, you can drive right?” Satoru questions rhetorically, already reaching for his wallet and car keys, “Great! Here’s two grand, it’s all yours if you drive this car home tonight.” Satoru smiles widely, shoving his keys and some cash into the pocket of Yuuji’s white coat.

“What—really? Awesome! But, why—”

Satoru dismisses his disbelief with a wave of his hand. He steps a bit closer to Yuuji, just enough to lean into his ear and tuck a couple more bills into his pocket, “And between you and me, that’s an extra three grand if you finish up a couple of charts for my lady so she can sleep in tomorrow. Not a bad deal, right?”

“Sure, no problem!” Yuuji salutes, “I’d do anything for Dr. Almost-Gojo. Plus, if I’m busy working for her, then I don’t have to babysit cells in a dish for Dr. Gakuganji.”

“Atta boy,” Satoru ruffles his hair, “Catch you later, Yuuji, I’ve got a hot date to get to. And tell Nanamin I say hello!”

You elbow Satoru shallowly, a silent warning to keep his voice down, and a verbal chastising of, “It’s Dr. Itadori and Dr. Nanamin to you.”

“More like Dr. Nanameanie,” Satoru laments, resuming the position of his arm around your shoulder, “I’ve left him six calls this week! He’s so cruel—he knows I have to leave next week and he’s depriving me of one on one time. I think I’m gonna have to sneak into his office at lunch tomorrow and confront him.”

Despite his crass words and dramatics, you laugh, and so, Satoru smiles. He finally gets that cheek kiss right as you two reach your car, bending down to plant one for you at the same time he steals your keys from your hand and banishes you to the passenger seat. He’s not much of a driver himself, despite his excess amount of cars, but you’re his baby and you deserve to be driven around no matter the case, but especially when you’ve spent all day taking care of other people.

Plus, on days like this, if he’s real careful and smooth, you fall asleep in the car and he gets to carry you inside. He makes that his goal for the next thirty minutes, and he succeeds in twenty, confirmed by your soft snores just as he pulls into the curbside pick-up spot of your favorite restaurant. He retrieves the take-out as quietly as possible, before making the rest of the journey home, taking the time to glance over at you during red lights.

Satoru loves the way you look when you’re asleep, loves to see you well-rested, but something even more dear to him than that is a fact that Nanami let slip in the aftermath of a dinner party he’d hosted about a year after you two had started dating: “She never sleeps outside of her bed, for as long as I’ve known her,” he muses, nodding to your sleeping figure on Satoru’s couch, “Not even in the on-call rooms during our 72 hour shifts. She must... she must really trust you, Satoru.”

(He also recalls the awfully strong grip on his shoulder and subsequent shovel talk Kento gave him a moment later. Not that Satoru ever had anything but pure intentions with you, but the threat of breaking Kento’s best friend’s heart was more than enough to keep his commitments in check).

Satoru peers at you fondly in his arms, held bridal style with the takeout in the grip of a pinky finger, glancing up only to nod and thank his doorman for pushing the penthouse button for him. Satoru prides himself on many things, but the one thing he always holds in his highest regards is you: call him cocky, but he thinks he’s quite good at caring for you, that there’s nobody else fit to look after you the way that he can; and knowing that you feel safe in his arms is the highest honor he could achieve in this life.

He sets you carefully on the couch once he steps inside the apartment, and places the food on the coffee table. He debates whether or not he should wake you up now; he hates to, but he knows you need to eat, and, selfishly, he wants to cash in on those few hours he has with you to hear your voice.

He’ll dish out the food first, and then wake you up to eat, he decides. He leans down to kiss the crown of your head, eyes flicking to your face, and pausing at your neck, where your engagement ring rests crookedly against your skin. You must have had an emergency surgery today, he thinks; your schedule for today was originally just to round on post-op patients and attend some meetings, but you knot the ring into your chain when you have to scrub into the operating room.

Carefully, Satoru reaches to undo it from the chain, and slips it back onto your ring finger. It looks pretty against your skin when it’s around your neck, but personally, he thinks it looks best this way, the sparkle of the aquamarine against the halo of diamonds fits perfectly across the width of your finger, just the way he had it made to be.

Satoru bends down even further to kiss the back of your hand, before laying it to rest on your stomach. He might need to bribe Yuuji to take care of some more work for you, you two really should get a move on that wedding planning, and you’re going to need at least a week off to fly and visit his grandma’s pastry shop in Osaka for cake tasting.

He smiles at the thought. He doesn’t feel so bad about waking you up now—wedding talk seems like the perfect way to end the evening if you ask him; there would be no sweeter sound than hearing how you imagine the start of the rest of your lives to be.

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rocketrhap3000 · 9 months

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the great shirt debate

summary: bucky and reader doing laundry together, pure domestic fluff

a/n: one of my old fics, rewritten for bucky <3

warnings: no use of y/n, beefy!bucky needs his own warning and there is one tiny reference to intimacy but otherwise this is 110% tooth rotting fluff and therefore i am not responsible for your dentist bill ;)

my main masterlist

The pile of dirty clothes in the laundry room had only grown exponentially over the past two weeks. You and Bucky had both been nonstop working, which meant that the household chores got pushed aside. Luckily, the two of you are both relatively clean people, so the worst was really only the laundry, and the accumulation of Alpine’s pristine, white fur all over the floors and couches.

And after a lazy Saturday morning sleeping in (resting up after various intimate reunion activities after almost two weeks of no time together), you and Bucky finally decided to get on with the chores.

He took on the vacuuming - rearranging the furniture so he could get under and behind things - while you started on the laundry. You emptied the hampers, stripped the beds, and filled up the washing machine for the first load before wandering back to the living room to check in on Bucky. From afar, you’re able to hear the soft whirr of the vacuum cleaner, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight that falls upon your eyes when you walk into the living room.

Your six-foot-something super-soldier boyfriend has your pair of rose gold headphones over his ears, completely unbothered by the sound of the vacuum, and wiggling around, lip-syncing and dancing to whatever song is playing in the headphones as he sucks up the white cat hair from the navy shag area rug. He’s sporting a simple blue henley and a baggy pair of grey sweats that somehow still accentuate his bum perfectly, but he’s just so adorable that you can’t help but interfere with his task.

You walk up behind him, then snake your hands around his torso, and he reacts with a small jump, clearly not expecting you. He looks down at you with a loving smile, switches off the vacuum, then pulls his headphones off his ears, letting them rest around his neck, and you can hear that he’s listening to Ella Fitzgerald, ever the old soul.

“Boo,” you hum, softly scratching your fingers over his tummy.

“Gosh, you scared me, Sweets,” he laughs, cheeks flushing pink in embarrassment as he pulls his phone out of his pocket to pause the music, then pulls the headphones off his neck and tosses them to the couch.

“Sorry, you just looked too cute,” you giggle, and he turns around in your grasp, leaving the vacuum to stand on it’s own so that he can wrap his arms around you, too.

“Mm, thank you,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to sweetly kiss your forehead. “You’re pretty cute, too.”

You only keep him for a little while longer before you let him finish up his task so you can move onto tackling the mess of papers and random things that had collected on the kitchen island over the past two weeks, causing the sleek wooden countertop to barely be visible.

By the time you finish sorting things out, taking them to their proper spots in the house, and sanitizing the kitchen counter, you make it back into the laundry room to move the clothes from the washer to the dryer and put a new load in to be washed.

It’s not long before you’re back with Bucky, watching as he finishes up vacuuming the entryway. Then, the two of you break for lunch together. It’s nothing extravagant at all, but it’s just the simplicity of spending time together again that makes you feel all giddy inside. The two of you take some time to lounge on the couch after lunch, too, just taking in each other’s touch and affection that you’d missed so much.

Eventually, you both reluctantly decide you should get back into finishing up the laundry, since it’s the last thing to check off the list before you’re done with everything. Bucky puts on your Spotify playlist on the tv in the bedroom and the two of you get to work folding and putting away the first load of clothes to replenish your nearly empty closets.

You’ve dumped out the warm, fresh clothes onto the bed and sorted through the pile, each taking your own clothes to fold, but Alpine thinks you’ve made a nice, warm bed for her. Laughing, both you and Bucky shoo her away gently, and she makes her way to her spot on the windowsill, instead.

It’s generally easy to find and separate your clothes; Bucky has a pretty select wardrobe of flannels, henleys, and earthy tones, so yours are easy to pick out among them. But sometimes, there are discrepancies as to whose clothes are whose.

“Oh, that one’s mine, too, Love,” you speak up, pointing to the navy v-neck on his side of the pile.

“This one?” he asks, placing his hand over one of his henleys.

“No, the blue tee,” you clarify.

“This one?” he asks again, this time picking up the right shirt, and you nod in confirmation. “Sweets, this is not yours,” he laughs.

“Yes it is,” you laugh back. “Hand it to me?”

“Sweets, it’s not yours. I swear I wore it like two days ago,” he tries to reason, but you’re not convinced.

You and Bucky share clothes frequently - well, you steal his clothes frequently - but you know for a fact that that is your shirt, even though you know Bucky would wear it, given the fact that sometimes his style choices consist of skin-tight tee shirts to unknowingly (or knowingly) flaunt his chiseled upper body. You’d never complain though; Bucky’s beefy, muscular form is absolutely perfect to you, and you love to see him comfortable in his own skin.

“I think you have one like it, but this is definitely my shirt. Look at the neckline, silly. Besides, this would’t even fit you, super soldier,” you laugh at him.

“You’d be surprised!” he laughs back.

“Mm, I know some of your shirts are like a second skin and I’m definitely not one to complain,” you tease, and he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “But this is one hundred percent my shirt, Bucky.”

“It’s mine, Sweets,” he grabs it from you again with another laugh, then folds over the neckline seam to look inside. “Look at the… tag."

“Mhm,” you cross your arms over your chest pridefully.

“There is no tag,” he deadpans, blush rising up from his neck and settling on his cheeks.

“What an astute observation, Detective Barnes. And why do you think that is?” you tease, taking a step closer to him to poke his taut tummy.

“Because you cut the tags off all your shirts...” he gives his answer, rolling his eyes in defeat.

“Which leaves us with the only conclusion!” you taunt him.

“It’s your shirt,” he sighs, folding the shirt ever so neatly before respectfully setting it down on your side of folded clothes.

“Mm, thank you,” you hum with a giggle, wrapping your arms around him and resting your cheek against his chest. “But if you really wanna borrow it, I’m sure you’d look great in it, Buck,” you tilt your head up to look at him, and his bashful smile makes your heart skip a beat.

“Oh, stop,” he chuckles softly back, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

~~~

thank you so much for reading! reblogs and feedback are so greatly appreciated and help my blog out so much 💘

Bucky taglist below, link in bio to be added :)

@lharrietg @enchantedbarnes @buchanansebba @verygraphicink @writing-for-marvel @marvelatthetwilight @jackiehollanderr @lets--be-honest @writerwrites @arabescapr @real-jane @mellyteddybear-blog @listenthemoose @lhharrysworld @mcufossilman @danireal17 @hallecarey1 @selluequestrian @engie115 @emi11ie @matchat3a @sonicisnotsober @balekanemohafe @mogaruke @seitmai @dracosluvbot @caplanbuckybarnes @midgardianminx @jesslove23-blog @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jessybarnes @pandaxnienke @alexxavicry @spideysimpossiblegirl @rach2602 @samlworld @nsuiswitch @thearieunhinged

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #avengers #marvel #tfatws #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fluff

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roosterforme · 4 months

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At Least Twice a Day (Rooster x Reader)

Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. My masterlist. Banner by @mak-32

Warnings: language, mentions of smut, mention of injury

You loved having Goose and Carole stay with you and Bradley. His mom always taught you a new recipe, and you could tell how happy it made Bradley to spend time with them. Especially Goose.

The guys were out walking Tramp after dinner, and you were helping Carole make a cake in your kitchen as you kept pausing to look at your engagement ring which used to be hers.

"He'll take good care of you," Carole mused out loud as she cracked some eggs. "Not that you can't take care of yourself, of course. But he'll give you anything you need or want. That's just the way he loves you."

Her words made you feel gooey. "That's the way I love him, too."

Your future mother-in-law's beaming smile left you wishing Bradley would return from his walk so you could touch him. You just always wanted to be touching him. "Chocolate frosting?" Carole asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"Yes. As long as Goose likes that."

She laughed and tossed her head back. "Goose has never meet a food he won't eat."

"Sounds exactly like Bradley."

Once the pretty cake was cooling and the frosting was ready to go on it, the front door opened, and Tramp bounded in ahead of the guys. "It smells good in here," Bradley murmured as he made a beeline to give you a hug. He kissed the top of your head as you snuggled your cheek against him. "Well this is a warm welcome."

"I missed you a little bit," you whispered. You made sure Carole and Goose looked distracted as you said, "You told me you'd make some more time for me all week. I want it real bad." You sent him a little pout just to reinforce things. It was hard to be as intimate as you liked when his parents were visiting.

His response sounded a little stern. "I know. I've been tired. And a little preoccupied. Don't act like you aren't getting it, Baby Girl." You pressed your lips together, because he'd actually taken the time to go down on you this morning before he got dressed. For almost thirty minutes. And it had been really good. "Now what smells so delicious?"

You patted his belly; he was still trying to get in shape again after his horrific accident during his last deployment a few months ago. "I don't think you should eat too much cake, okay. You told me to make sure you were making healthy food choices."

Bradley sighed and said, "If you make it, I'm going to want to eat it." He sounded a little snippy, and you knew it was because he loved his mom's recipes, but you'd stand firm.

"Just one small piece. I'm going to ice the cake, and we can all eat it tomorrow before your parents fly home to Virginia."

"Fine."

------------------------------

Bradley knew you were probably a tiny bit annoyed with him when you excused yourself early to take a shower and get ready for bed. But the cake looked so good, and he wanted to eat it even though he did tell you not to let him have too many sweets. His parents were on the couch watching a movie together when he changed into his gym clothes as he heard you get into the shower. Since he had his weight bench in the garage now, he should be using it every day.

When he walked into the living room on his way to the kitchen to make a protein shake, he felt two pairs of eyes on him. "What?" he asked, turning toward the couch. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Well..." Carole began, already cluing Bradley in to the fact that this would be an irritating conversation. "We couldn't help but notice that you got a little bit snippy with your fiancée earlier."

"Oh here we go," he muttered in response, running his hand through his hair. "How much did you hear?"

They shared a look before Carole asked, "Are you sure you're pleasing her in the bedroom?"

He froze in place and barked out an annoyed laugh. "We are not having this conversation. Absolutely not."

His dad put a hand on his mom's shoulder, but that didn't stop her. "Oh, yes, we are. We have always been very open about sex, Bradley. It's nothing to be ashamed of!"

Bradley looked at her bright blue eyes before glancing at his dad. It wasn't that he was embarrassed to talk about sex with his parents even though he was well into his thirties, it was more that he wasn't sure how to defend himself right now. "This conversation is not necessary. She was being dramatic."

Carole scoffed in response. "It's not dramatic when you're letting your partner know you need something, Bradley. She's going to be your wife!"

"Yeah," Bradley barked. "And she's already getting it at least twice a day most days!"

Goose choked on his sip of tea.

"Oh," Carole said softly, but she looked a lot calmer now as Bradley shook his head. "Well, that's good."

"Mmhmm," he hummed sarcastically with his hands planted on his hips. "I am fucking my fiancée regularly. She's plenty satisfied. She just likes being a brat. But thank you for your concern." He turned toward the kitchen, nearly forgetting what he was planning on doing in the first place. "Jesus," he grumbled as he grabbed his protein powder. "The fucking audacity."

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When you woke up the next morning, Bradley was still sound asleep, so you made your way to the kitchen to start breakfast for the four of you. The coffee was brewing, and you were collecting ingredients for some pancake batter when you froze. Half of the cake was gone. "What the fuck?" you gasped, and that's when you saw Bradley walk in. "You ate the cake."

He frowned at you. "No, I didn't."

"You did!" you accused. "It's half eaten! You ate it out of spite!"

Bradley raised one eyebrow and asked, "Are you serious right now?"

You spun when you heard Goose clear his throat, and you turned to see that Carole couldn't even look you in the eye for some reason. "Good morning," she said as she reached for a mug. "Goose has something he needs to tell you."

"I ate the cake," he said. "It was delicious. I had one piece, and then I couldn't stop eating it. And then the next thing I knew, half of it was gone."

"Oh," you replied softly. "Well, that's okay. Why don't we just finish the cake for breakfast?"

"That sounds lovely," Carole replied, barely meeting your eyes.

You took a deep breath and turned toward Bradley. "I'm sorry, Roo. You can have a much cake as you want, I shouldn't have told you not to eat it."

He leaned in closer and whispered, "I'll have a little slice, Sweetheart. And I'm sorry I haven't been as attentive this week as I usually am. If you want me to fuck you nearly constantly, you know I will."

"Shhh," you hissed. "Your mom is already barely looking at me right now!"

Bradley laughed as his parents took the cake and coffee into the dining room. "That's because I told her you're a needy little thing who wants me balls deep inside her all the time."

"You did what?!"

#is it working for you?#roosterforme #b&bg #if you ask emily #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine

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ashwhowrites · 5 months

Note

Eddie Munson x cheerleader! Reader, what if Eddie starts receiving some secret admirer letters that don't have any signature on them, only some red lipstick kiss on it and he's curious about who can that be, only when he's on a deal with Cheerleader! Reader, that she's starts to apply some red lipstick on that he connects the dots and he just jumps in excitement saying IT'S YOU! and reader is like Idk what are you talking about (just pretending not to know) but then when Eddie sits again she just starts to talk again and she gest closer to him and then kisses him?

-🩷

Thank you for requesting! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it <3

Red lipstick

Eddie Munson wasn't a guy that girls fawned over. He wasn't a guy girls chase around and try to win over. More like, they ran from him. If he ever had a crush, it was nearly impossible it would be responded to nicely.

He also wasn't friends with girls. He barely talked to any, unless it was on a deal. So imagine the confusion he had when he randomly started to receive little notes. Almost like a secret admirer note. The notes didn't say much, a few words that complimented him in some way. Some talked about his clothes, hair, rings, smile, or his laugh. Which meant this person constantly saw him and was close enough to notice small details.

He had a good feeling it was his friends playing a joke, but he wasn't sure if they'd be that mean. He had a feeling it was a girl based on the neat handwriting, oh! And the fact that every note had a lipstick kiss on it. A deep red, a red that would stain lips. He had to admit, he weirdly stared at his friend's lips lately, trying to see if any smudge of red was still there.

He always received them at the end of each day, in his locker. Well, he assumed, when the notes first started he never went to his locker. One day he needed a random book and tons of notes scattered on the floor by his boots. The excitement of reading the notes brought him back to check his locker every single day. And whenever he checked, there it was. Folded neatly, his name was written on the top with the red kiss mark.

He had no idea who it could be. He didn't talk to any girl one on one unless it was during a deal. And the girls he met with were cheerleaders....no way in hell would a cheerleader be into him.

~~~

Eddie kept the collection of notes in his backpack, not like anything else was in there.

His friends teased him about it all the time. To a point, he believes they aren't part of it.

"Miss lover girl write another one? "

"I bet you kiss the notes at night."

"does it smell like perfume?"

"Are we sure it's not Jason in drag?"

But right now he had to put the mystery aside and work on a deal.

He hummed a song as he sat on the bench, waiting patiently for his next customer. With the extra time, he dug into a few of the notes, his head pounding as he tried to figure out who the hell it was. It's been weeks and weeks. And he still came up with nothing.

"Whatcha got there?" A voice came from behind him. He jumped and quickly hid the notes. He zipped up his backpack as Y/N walked around the table and sat down.

"Nothing!" He squeaked out. She eyed him carefully but moved on. Her movements seemed a little nervous.

He did the deal as usual, but with Y/N they tend to talk about random shit to pass the time. The weed was placed in her backpack, but yet they talked for over an hour.

Her lips were over her water bottle as she sipped the rest of it. She groaned as she noticed there wasn't a lipstick mark, knowing her lips must have been uncoated for a while.

She dug into her backpack, scratching for the small black tube. She smiled once she grabbed it. She grabbed her small compact mirror and opened it.

Eddie watched mindlessly, letting her do her thing as he took in her features. He knew she was beautiful and he knew that she knew it too. The way her lips puckered out as she applied the red stick to her lips. WAIT! RED!

Eddie snatched the lipstick from her hand.

"Eddie what the fuck!"

He ignored her, he smeared the stick against his wrist, the red soaking his skin. The color was familiar and the texture of it was the same.

He smiled excitedly, he figured it out.

He couldn't handle his outburst. He jumped from his seat, disbelief on his face.

"ITS YOU!" He couldn't believe it. A cheerleader, no! Y/N! was writing him love notes.

"Huh?"

"THE NOTES!"

Y/N felt her face heat up, but denied.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" She snatched back her lipstick. She quickly threw it in her backpack but Eddie already had the stain on his skin.

He dug out the notes, flipping one over. The blank side faced him as he slid it over to her.

"Kiss it." He said he didn't care how crazy he sounded. This has been driving him crazy for weeks.

"I'm not kissing a piece of paper." She argued

"Just DO IT!"

She slouched and grabbed the paper. Embarrassed she pressed her lips against the paper. Something she's done countless times, but now in front of him feels so stupid. Why did she think this was a good idea?

Eddie sat down, more calm as he grabbed the paper and matched it with the others.

"It's you."

"Yeah! You've said that!" Y/N snapped. She was panicking. He hasn't said anything but "it's you!" Over and over. Was he happy it was her? Mad? Disappointed? She couldn't tell and it was making her nervous.

"But why?" He asked. The confusion was clear on his face.

"What do you mean why? Why do people send love notes, Munson." She said in a duh tone. She didn't like being played with.

"Well if you like someone! But that's not the case here, so why?" Now that he knew who it was, he couldn't help but feel stung. It was a cheerleader, and he stands by no cheerleader liking him. It must have been a joke with the team or a joke with Jason.

He was hurt by it. He thought they had a small friendship. He liked talking to her and it seemed like she enjoyed being around him too. She didn't run away after the deal, she didn't look over her shoulder in a panic if anyone saw.

Y/N sighed and decided to make another move. She got up and moved to sit next to him. She was nervous, but he probably was even worse.

"I do like you." She admitted quietly, she wasn't sure if he heard it. She barely heard it herself.

"We talk every week...why did you never say anything?" He asked

"I was scared!" She laughed, "I didn't want you to laugh in my face. I know you hate the popular kids and you hate my friends. I was scared you hated me too."

He moved his hand down to his lap, her hand inches away on the bench. He took a deep breath and slowly slid his hand over. His pinky hits hers.

"I like you too. I mean it's hard for me to believe you do like me and this isn't a prank. But I also feel like that's not something you'd do." He explained. "I'm really happy it was you."

He could feel her body perch up, a big smile on her face as she turned her head to look at him.

"Really? Happy?" She asked, he turned his head to match her.

"Mhhm! I always thought you were beautiful. But I don't recall you ever wearing red lipstick on our deals so I didn't exactly expect it to be you."

"I didn't. I barely wear it, only when I usually do the notes. But I guess I was hoping if I slipped up, you'd notice." She admitted

They sat in silence for a moment, just looking at each other. That's when she noticed how close they were. His pinky was still against hers, their shoulders practically touching.

"Can I kiss you, Eddie Munson?" She asked, her heart pounding.

Eddie has never heard those words in his life. He had a first kiss, but it was on a dare and the girl ran away after. He still remembers how sad he was. But now he had a gorgeous girl wanting to kiss him.

"Yes" he breathed, his heart raced as she leaned in. His cheek burned as her hand held it softly. He's never had someone touch him so delicately. Like he was something special you'd be careful with.

Time froze when her lips touched his. He wasn't sure what to do at first, his hand slowly moved to her thigh, resting his palm against her bare skin as he tried to kiss back. He's seen it in movies, and he's heard his friends talk about it. But he's never heard anyone talk about how amazing he felt. He'd never heard anyone talk about the way his body tingled, the way he felt like he wanted to giggle and scream. He's never heard anyone talk about the pure feeling of happiness and desire running through their body.

But maybe that's because no one kissed her

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x cheerleader #ashwhowrites

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sociopathicartist · 17 days

Text

In case I don’t tell you enough, I love you.

a letter from sans directed to you, his lover.

y/n,

it’s been five years since monsterkind was freed from the surface.

it’s been four years since i’ve met you.

it’s april, and i’m still missing you.

maybe it’s stupid of me to miss you considering that i left your house only a few hours ago, and i’m laying in bed writing this on some loose paper i found on my floor while i think of you.

weirdly enough, the silence in my room is now unsettling compared to how calming it used to be. i guess the fan in your room blowing wind on your bed that i’ve yet to see turned off has grown on me. or maybe it’s the rain sounds you always have playing on your tv that clash with the fan that grew on me.

or maybe it’s you that's grown on me.

sometimes when i have a nightmare or i can't sleep i play fan and rain sounds on youtube to help me rest, not even thinking consciously about it anymore. it always just makes me feel like i’m back in bed with you with my eyes closed, waiting for you to come back from the kitchen with the glass of water that you wanted.

i wish that i could sum it up and say i can't find the words to describe how i feel, but that’s a lie. i know exactly how i feel about you.

tracing my phalanges along the little scars and nicks of your skin when i’m next to you never fails to entertain me. neither does running my hand through your hair, or twisting the rings on your fingers, or kissing you quickly for the 1000th time. i never thought i would be fond of that sort of stuff, i never thought i was a guy for any sort of romance.

i guess i just never realized that all i needed was the right person to give it to me. all i needed was you.

i’m not the best writer. even my lab logs from the rare times when i help alphys with her scientific tests are messy and short out. it’s almost like having all these thoughts about you is starting to eat me alive. i guess i have nowhere else to put them but on a piece of paper. if we ever get married one day like i hope we do, i’d like to give this to you. who knows when that will be though, so i guess this letter will just sit in one of my drawers collecting dust until i can give it to you. it kinda sucks to think about the fact that these words might never reach you, but that’s the way life is. it sucks most of the time.

i get this weird sinking feeling in my ribs near where my soul rests sometimes. it’s mostly when i think about how i miss you. sometimes my hand reaches up and brushes up and down my shoulder blade when i’m lying in bed alone, mimicking the motion that your hand does to me all the time when we lay together. i don’t even notice it happens anymore, but when i do and i realize you’re not actually there, that’s when that weird sinking feeling happens. it also happens on the rare thought of you not being in my future one day, even though i know that won't happen. i know you wouldn’t leave me.

i can’t help but wonder what this feeling was before i met you, and why i never got it.

was i just empty all the time?

even though i remember in great detail why my depression was so bad back then, back before i met you, i guess these happy years with everyone have slowly washed away that feeling. i felt so horrible for so long, and i didn’t care to ever try and get better because there was no point back then, but for some reason whenever i try to think of what was there in my life that i had like this, it’s almost numbed away from my memories. it’s like a bad nightmare that got washed away with the morning light.

that’s not to say i’m not thankful and glad i’m doing better now. sure, i’m still working things out, but who isn’t? i don’t think i wouldn’t have ever actually gotten help if it wasn’t for you, though. you’re really the only person who's ever seen me so clearly. i love how i don’t even have to tell you if something is wrong anymore, you just look at me and know. did you know that i’ve never had anyone take the time to notice the small difference between my genuine smile versus my resting and permanent one? the day you pointed that out to me was the day i realized i liked you.

i also thought it would take me a while to realize when i liked someone seriously. i think the last time i ever had a crush was… actually, i can’t remember. in the movies and books, it’s always the same scenario of ‘i like you but i haven’t liked anyone before so i don’t realize i like you until it’s too late’ but that wasn’t the case. i knew the moment i liked you.

it was this odd twinge in me that just kinda sprung throughout my bones. i think it’s the same equivalent of getting butterflies in your stomach, but without a stomach. i noticed your looks before, and i guess this sounds weird to say, but it was like after so long of friendship that i actually… noticed you.

you looked so beautiful, and you still do.

the shock at work and from other people was really funny when they found out we were dating. i don’t think they ever actually thought i’d find someone to settle down with. our friends knew better though. as shocked as our friends tried to act, it was pretty obvious that they were expecting it. i can’t believe it was that obvious that we liked each other.

there’s no big resolution to writing this. i just felt like writing it so that i could share the feelings i feel about you but that i forget to say when we are around each other. it’s not like i can get a single word in with how much you smooch on me though. not that i mind.

it’s not to say that if my puns ever get too much for you, or if you decide that i’m too lazy and you feel like you can’t leave, you can. i just really don’t want you to. i have a strong feeling that you don’t ever want to leave either.

i can’t wait to see how the rest of our lives turn out together. when we move in, get married, and just enjoy each other’s time. i know it’s crazy to hear from me, but i can’t wait to do the dishes with you and put away the laundry as you fold it. i can’t wait to enjoy your company every day one day. i know it’s a bit selfish, but i hope that things stay like this forever.

i hope that you get to read this one day, and in case i don’t tell you enough, i love you.

#undertale #undertale au #undertale alternate universe #sans #sans undertale #sans x reader #classic sans #sans x you #sap #sans headcanons

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taasgirl · 1 month

Text

say something pt 3.

summary: although playing for the same club, pedri and y/n cannot stand the thought of being around each other. enemies to lovers for all my slow burn girlies out there - i got u

a/n: not proofread and all in english + more installments coming soon!!

"Sir, can I get an extension on this? I've got a game the same day." The room was small enough for me to get my voice across. We had finished learning all the content and were just revising and studying for our exams.

"Talk to me after class and I'll see what we can do." I hated asking for extensions and grants on assessments, and I could almost hear everyone in the room roll their eyes every time I asked for one. I was also avoiding Alex. I last saw him at my match where I blew him off. I was planning on talking to him about everything. I really felt bad about how I was treating him.

As the professor wrapped up class, I began packing my things into my duffel. I had training later today, but I was absolutely dying for some food.

I followed everyone down to the exit and stopped at the desk. "Listen Y/N, we're all quite aware of your commitments to football." The Professor, Mr Lanigan, was filing papers into a binder. "But we've awarded you too many grants. I'm sorry, but for this paper the day you are sitting the exam is set in stone."

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. They generally were totally fine with my footballing schedule. "I can't make it then sir. You know how strict they are." He looked at me sympathetically.

"You're a bright girl. you'll figure something out." I walked out after thanking him, but I was pissed. There was no way I could sit that test. Barca were strict. Missing a game for university was a big no no, they were already being flexible with me, allowing me to attend lectures during the day.

After a quick pitstop to the closest cafe on campus, I decided to walk back to the apartment. I needed to collect my thoughts and find out a way for me to attend my assessment while also getting to my game on time and prepared.

While walking through the streets of Barcelona, I was stopped numerous times by fans asking for my photo. Now it wasn't uncommon for me to be stopped, but I took at least 30 photos today which was way more than usual.

As I got back to the apartment, I was greeted by a sleepy Salma. "Morning girly." She was still in her pyjamas, obviously looking for something to eat. "Sal it's 2pm." She shrugged, making me laugh.

"Hey I need to get to football a bit earlier, I've gotta talk with Jonatan." Salma opened the fridge, "Yeah that's fine, I'll drive."

"So do you know what time your exam is?" I was sitting in Jonatan's office, begging him to help me figure something out. "It's from four until five." He shook his head at my response.

"I'm sorry Y/N but you won't be able to make the game." I wanted to throw my head back in anger but I didn't. "Please, is there anything you or the president can do? I can't miss this exam and I can't miss the game." I had found out that the game that I was set to miss because of my exam was an El Classico. I wasn't going to miss that.

"That's not in my power. You must speak to your university and make a decision." I could feel my eyes swelling. It may just seem like a game, but I had been dreaming of an El Classico at the Camp Nou my entire life. This was the first year that they had decided to play the derby at the iconic stadium, and I wasn't going to miss it for the world. "I hope you can figure it out. I'll see you on the field." He stood up and helped me out of the room.

I couldn't look at him as I felt the tears come on. I walked down the hallway with my head down, trying as fast as I could to get back to Salma's car. She had given me keys and trusted me to drive it even thought I still didn't have my license. And right now, it seemed like the perfect place to cry.

I continued walking and picked up my pace. That was until I walked straight into someone. The apology came out of me before I could even look up.

It was Pedri.

He was holding my arms, and was concerned when I looked up. "Y/N are you ok?" I was so angry. I needed to just get all my thoughts out.

"No I'm not Pedri. Everything is so fucked." My voice turned croaky but I kept speaking.

With his hands still on my arms, he pulled me into a random office with him, he told me to keep talking.

"I just can't do school at the same time as this. Why did I think it was a good idea to play football. Or go to university." I had begun crying. "And now I have to either miss out on one of the most important exams I will ever take, or miss out on the most important game of my life." I wiped the tears from my cheek and continued as Pedri stepped closer.

"And I'm sorry if this is gonna come off as rude but I have to go to uni. My job is not as permanent as yours." He pulled me in and held my tight, lightly running his fingers through my ponytail. "If I fuck this up then I need a backup. And there's just so much pressure to do both. I can't handle it anymore Pedri."

"It's ok baby, let it out." I couldn't stop crying. I had bottled these emotions up for too long, and they needed to come out. I just wish it wasn't Pedri who would have to see me like this.

We stayed like that, me in him arms for at least another minute while he reassured me. When I pulled away, he picked up my chin and wiped away a tear. "You're a pretty crier." I lightly smacked him, sniffling. "We should probably get to training Pepi." He agreed, and walked out with me.

We walked down to the changerooms together where he then spoke up. "You can talk to me if you need. I may not be able to relate to you or your situation, but I can understand you." I hugged him. It was all I could do, no words were coming out.

I stepped into the women's changeroom and was met by Salma's eyes. "So what did he say?" I shook my head at her. "He can't do anything."

She got up from her seat to hug me. "You smell like cologne." I blushed into her shoulder, I wasn't gonna tell her about what happened.

"And girls, please make sure you're on time tonight." Lucy spoke to us all as we finished up training. Tonight was the some type of ceremony for our sponsors. These fancy dinner happened almost fortnightly, however it wasn't often that we all had to attend.

Lucy was definitely targeting us. Salma had made us late so many times, walking in awkwardly when someone was mid-speech.

"Oh and the boys'll be there too." The whole changeroom groaned. As much as we were 'one club', we couldn't stand the guys. It was something about their cockiness that really pissed everyone off.

"Girl you look fire. Surely your trying to impress someone tonight." Salma nudged my shoulder while I was putting on my make up. "Watch it Paralleulo, one wrong move and my lipstick becomes foundation."

I chose a gorgeous blue and white dress. It wasn't too formal, but also not to casual - the perfect pick.

"Oh and I'm not driving. Pedri is picking us up." My eyes widened in the mirror. Pedri. Driving us. Pedri? "Don't give me that look girl, I know you wanna jump in his pants."

"That's gross Salma. When will he be here?" Salma peeked out the window. "Now. Him and Gavi are outside." I ran to the window, finding Pedri and Gavi dawdling on the sidewalk. "Come on Sal, let's go down."

Once we approached the two boys, Salma ran to Gavi, giving him a big hug. Pedri and I locked eyes. He smiled awkwardly before coming closer to me. He wrapped his arms around me and I did the same. "You look great." We peeled off each other as Pedri went to Salma, and I to Gavi.

"Alright guys come one we don't want to be late." Gavi ushered to us as we packed into the car. He offered the front seat to me, basically forcing me to sit in with Pedri.

"Y/N chuck on some music, let's see what you've got." Pedri helped me connect the bluetooth to my phone, and soon enough, I had the car pumping to some 2000s pop.

The trip didn't take too long. We were on the road for about 30 mins and it was truly enjoyable. Salma led most of the conversation, but soon enough Pedri and I warmed up.

"Oh guys, does anyone wanna go out after this thing? I'm happy to drive around?" Pedri called out to us, he turned he head to mostly face me. I smiled at him, "Yeah actually that would be great." Salma spoke after me, "Surely we go and pick up some McDonalds."

"Do you know what this is actually for?" Pedri leaned into my ear. We were seated at a table together with some sponsors. Literally just us. "Boy don't ask me, I'm still half asleep." He chuckled at my response.

We spent a decent amount of time talking to the people at our table, most of them were major sponsors of the club. "So Y/N, you think you'll be able to fight for Champions League this year?" The short man opposite me asked. "Of course, I've always got space for silverware on my shelf." Everyone around me laughed, the found my cockiness funny. "Atta girl." Pedri rubbed my back gracefully.

"This is boring." He was playing around with the food on his plate. It was some type of concoction of left-over steak with a dark red sauce. "Shut up and eat your food Pedro." He rolled his eyes before sticking his fork into one of the roast potatoes on my plate. While looking straight at me, he ate it. "Hey don't eat my stuff." I smacked him on the shoulder.

"So how long have you two been dating for?" Pedri practically choked on his food. "Huh?" I looked at one of the women sitting a few seats down from me. "How long have you two been together? I mean with that much chemistry, it's gotta be a few years." My cheeks turned rosy.

"Umm." I cut him off "Oh we're not together." Despite how loud the venue was, I could hear the silence radiating from our table. "Oh woah, I'm sorry. I really thought you were- never mind." I smiled at her almost apologetically.

I leaned over to Pedri. "I'm just gonna head to the bathroom." He nodded.

I walked straight to the bathroom to touch up my makeup. I was feeling flushed from what that woman had said. I didn't think we were too affectionate, or even flirting. Well at least not a lot.

I fixed up my hair before pushing open the door. As I walked through the narrow hallway, I felt a hand from behind pull me in.

I spun around and was immediately pulled into a kiss. Pedri had one hand on my cheek and the other on my waist, kissing me relentlessly.

As I pulled away, I smiled at him. There were faint lipstick smudges on his lips. "You need to stop making out with me outside bathrooms." I punched his shoulder playfully.

"Come here." He pulled me back into him, this time his hands were exploring my back. "You're so gorgeous." I kissed him harder to shut him up.

When we had finally stopped kissing I laughed. "Go to the restroom and clean that lipstick off your face." Concerned, Pedri tried to wipe it off. All I could do was smile. "I'll catch you back out there."

"You good?" Salma had caught me as I entered back into the show room. "Your hair's a mess." I rolled my eyes as we made our way towards the table. "Where's Pedri?" I raised my shoulders.

"Holy shit. You just fully fucked him huh?" I smacked her. "Shut up Sal." She was in awe. "I was wondering where you two went holy shit." I turned her around to face her away from everyone, and from the hallway out walked Pedri.

"You slut." Her smile was from cheek to cheek. "We kissed now please don't say anything." She couldn't stop looking at me.

I found Pedri again and sat back down next to him. “And to think that only a few days ago you smacked the shit out of me.” I laughed at what he said. I stood by my decision to smack him up - he deserved it.

Halfway through the dinner I got a message from Alex, I immediately began responding to him. I needed to tell him how I really felt.

He was asking me for some notes from class. Something about interview techniques. I told him that I was happy to send them through but only when I had gotten home.

“Who you messaging?” Pedri was staring at my phone. “One of the boys in my class - you’ve seen him.” He nodded his head, still reading the incoming messages. Alex was asking me when we could meet up next. I instinctively told him tomorrow. I wanted to right some wrongs with him. He was a genuinely sweet guy, just not the guy.

Swing by mine tomorrow - I need to talk to you

The car ride home was pretty silent, we didn’t end up going to McDonalds and instead Pedri drove us straight home. He hadn’t really said much since we kissed. I put my hand on his thigh, only for him to move his leg away.

When we had reached the apartment Pedri didn’t bother leaving the car. “Come on ladies, I’ve got you.” Gavi walked us to our rooms, and explained how he was gonna go clubbing now with Pedro.

“Don’t get too drunk yeah?” I patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah and don’t let her boyfriend get too drunk either.” I gave Salma a death stare. “Who Pepi?” She smiled at him. “Did you two…” he didn’t finish he sentence. “No we didn’t sleep together god.” He laughed and ushered us inside.

As soon as I had taken off my dress and removed my makeup, I landed straight into my bed. “What’s up with you girl?” Salma opened my door.

“If this is about Pedro… just trust me, he’s literally in love with you okay? Yeah he’s an angry dickhead, but he does really care for you.” I rolled over in my bed “He’s so confusing Sal.”

After what seemed like the longest sleep in of my life, I was woken up by the sound of my phone buzzing. Alex was messaging me about when he should come over - I told him in an hours time before taking my phone out of the charger and checking instagram.

Well if that wasn’t a huge fucking mistake.

Each photo and video in my feed was of Pedri making out with some girl. And that girl wasn’t me. I tried not to immediately jump to the fact that it was last night, but his coat jacket and blue button up were far too recognisable.

I went looking for more and felt my heart shatter when I saw the girl sitting on his lap. His arms were wrapped around her, holding her tight to his body.

I found even more videos until I couldn’t bare seeing what I saw. Salma cautiously walked into my room. “Hey babes.” She sat down on the end of my bed. “Have you seen the fucking videos?” She looked at me sadly. “Aw come here.” She wriggled her way up to me, holding me as I felt the tears begin to fall.

“I thought he liked me Sal.” She brushed her fingers through my hair. “He does Y/N, he’s just really fucking stupid.”

To me, this feeling was worse than a breakup. We weren’t together but that’s what made it worse. He wasn’t even cheating on me. God he was just out clubbing and making out with a hot girl.

The tears fell effortlessly down my face. “I never want to see his stupid fucking face again.”

“So, has the club figured anything out?” My professor asked. I knew that he was trying his hardest with the university, but they wouldn’t budge. “Nothing sir. I’m just gonna have to bite the bullet and hope they don’t kill me for missing an El Classico.”

He looked at me sympathetically. “Listen, I’m gonna try for one last push. I’ll see what I can do.” I thanked him once more and left the building. Alex was outside waiting for me - I told him that I was too unwell to meet up yesterday.

“Hello beautiful.” He kissed me on the cheek and took the tote hanging off my shoulder. “Are you still okay for lunch?” I nodded at him, and soon enough we were in his car.

He was driving us to a local Thai restaurant - apparently it was his favourite. When we entered, I realised it wasn’t just a Thai restaurant. It was undoubtedly one of the fanciest restaurants I had ever been in. “Oh wow Alex, you really didn’t need to do all this.”

“It’s honestly nothing if it means I get to spend time with you.” I blushed and picked up my glass of water.

“So what’d you need to tell me?” His eyes were on the menu but still directed his voice at me.

“Umm.” I had no idea what to say. If Pedri wasn’t a complete and utter dickhead - making out with randos right after me, I would’ve told Alex that I wanted to end things.

But if Pedri really didn’t feel the way I thought he did, then I wasn’t going to waste my time or energy on him. “You know what, it’s nothing.” He smiled at me.

We were sat for at least two hours, letting ourselves completely loose; talking about anything and everything. As we finished up, he insisted that he paid. “Please, seriously it’s my treat.”

After lunch, we took a leisurely stroll close in the Botanic Gardens. Alex couldn’t stop taking photos of the flowers, and after a few accidental brushes, our hands were interlinked.

“Y/N you know I really like you right?” We walked past a grand oak tree, I smiled assuringly at him. “Like I genuinely see you as someone I want in my life for a long time.”

I froze. I liked Alex sure, but I wasn’t ready for that type of commitment. “Alex, I genuinely do enjoy spending time with you but I can’t commit to anything right now.”

His head dropped. “I’m sorry.” He rubbed my hand. “I understand.”

“Omg Y/N! Please can we get a photo?” I immediately dropped his hand. “Sure girls.”

Pedri’s POV

“The fuck is this shit?” I threw my phone across the room. “Calm down Pepi what is it?” Gavi called out to me.

“Is it Y/N?” He walked into my room and picked up the phone one the floor. “Oh shit.” He muttered to himself.

“So did that kiss mean nothing to her?” I practically shouted at Gavi.

“Oh, so she can’t go out to lunch with some random guy, but you’re allowed to make out with the first girl that jumps on you?” He chucked the phone at me.

“Salma called me and Y/N is pissed Pepi. That girl is absolutely head over heels for you, but you can’t control your dick enough to see how good she is to you.” I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah well what the fuck do you expect me to do when I see her messaging a guy, telling him to come over right after I fucking confessed my feelings to her?”

“I always knew she was whore, I just didn’t expect her to fucking use me.” Gavi slapped me. Right across the face. “Don’t call her that.” I stared at him. “Get the fuck out.”

“You need to talk to her Pedro. She’s really hurt.”

you know the drill! lmk if you like this series and want to be tagged in the next!! some accts wouldnt let me tag so sorry if that was u.

if you have any reqs pls submit them, i'm working on a few rn!!

@poppyflower-22 @girlidekanymore @heli991113 @xxenia14

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burning-omen · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 9: Detective x Criminal + Spider-Noir

Spider-Noir x male reader

Kinktober 2023 List | Day 1 | Day 10

Summary: He’s playing mind games with you, you know he is.

Warning: reader is the Black Cat of the universe, getting tied up, lowkey cringe villian reader but it’s like the 1940’s so they get a pass cuz it’s a little camp, breaking and entering, stalking, reader being naked, no smut (during kinktober? shocking I know)

You didn't like being tied up. Well, maybe. Just not in this context. You prided yourself on having never been caught, but as you are now, your arms bound to your sides, hanging upside down from a lamp post, you could feel that pride going down the drain. Glancing over you could see a few of the guys that were helping you rob some high-end jewelry store.

You usually worked alone, but the owner of the store was friendly with the police and if anyone was going down for this one, it'd be them. That's what you had planned at least, before being captured by a familiar spider themed vigilante.

You could see his figure, shrouded in black, crouching down next to them, they were all tied together, back to back to back on the floor. You almost began to wonder why you were getting special treatment, then you remembered your claws and the chase that lead to you being in this position in the first place. He considered you a threat. Which made sense, considering what you'd done to the front of his little suit. You had just barely missed him, only able to swipe at the vest he wore beneath his coat before the chase began. Still, it cut through as though you were swiping at air, you figured that he would rather not find out what they felt like cutting through flesh.

It was a while before he came to you, crouching down so that he could meet your eyes. Despite being upside down and having his face covered by a mask.

“Cat,” he said sternly.

“Mr. Spider-Man.” you returned with a grin, “you caught me.”

“So I did, ‘ that mean you're gonna comply?”

“Not a chance.”

A careful, slow breath left the man. Coming in closer, he spoke again.

“Those guys already gave you up, Cat, you really think you can get out of this one?”

You thought for a moment, or at least pretended to before another large grin broke out on your face.

“I can get out of anything. So what if these low lives try to pin this whole thing on me, I've got a few things they don't that absolve me of any blame,” you said confidently.

He let out a low laugh, just for a second before asking,

“And what's that?”

“Well I've got a secret identity, I've got an alibi-” you paused for a moment, flexing your clawed fingers before continuing, “and, unlike those guys, I got away.”

Without sparring a moment you shredded the binds, effectively freeing yourself, twisting onto your back to keep yourself from banging your head on the concrete below. You were on the ground for less than a second before you were on your feet again and breaking into a sprint, you didn't check to see if he followed you, scaling up the side of a brick building and running along its roof before jumping to the next one, then the next, then the next until you felt tired, sliding to a stop.

~~~~~~

As you landed on the window sill of your apartment, you decided definitively that you needed a long, long bath, despite the fact that you got away, you were still trapped by the Spider-Man. That was a step closer to prison than you'd ever like to be.

Sliding the window open you were greeted by your pitch black apartment, just how you left it. Despite the dark, you navigated flawlessly, making your way to the living room, walking towards your front door, and collecting the newspaper and mail off the floor, the mail slot in your door shining a small beam of light from the hallway.

Finally flicking on the light as you flipped through your mail, heading towards the kitchen. Leaning up against the counter as you muttered to yourself.

“Bills, bills, trash, rent-” you stopped on an invitation to an art exhibit, specifically a jewelry art exhibit, ‘displaying pieces new and old’, how wonderful. What was even better was the price of the tickets, nearly 300 each, you couldn't afford to go, not legally, but you’re sure that plenty of wealthy people with deep pockets and easily accessible wallets would be there, along with the jewelry itself. With a small smile, you set the invitation down on the counter, you could look at it again later.

Before you could even register what was written on the next envelope, a voice spoke from behind you- in a moment you would never admit to, you jumped, a small yelp emitting from you, your heart pounding heavily.

Turning quickly, you were face to face with Spider-man, leaning on the other side of the counter, the invitation you just set down in his hands.

“‘We humbly invite you, Shara Jamison, to the Exhibition of Art Through Jewelry on-’”

You quickly snatched the invitation from his hand, slamming it on the counter.

“Breaking into people's houses is illegal.” you said, glaring at the man.

“You left your window open”

Setting your mail down, you could feel the familiar feeling of irritation growing.

“Caught twice in one night, Cat, I think you're losing your touch.”

Walking past him and back into the living room, you tried to think of a plan, but as Spider-Man followed you- so close behind, your mind seemingly stopped working.

“I'm not losing anything, you're just stalking me, how would you feel if I followed you home, hmm, Mr. Spider-Man?”

He didn’t respond, turning, you saw him- once again, going through your mail.

“Will you stop that?” You snatched the stack from him and threw it on the couch.

Breathing out a frustrated sigh, you said,

“What do you want?”

“Y/n L/n.”

You paused, taking in a breath you said, “what?”

“That’s your name right? It's on all your- well, most of your mail.”

Resisting the deep urge to roll your eyes into oblivion you said,

“So what if it is?”

“So..” he started, “you've got no secret identity, no alibi, and no, you didn't get away.”

You tried not to react, in over 5 years of masked theft you've never been caught, not once, you've never even been a suspect, but here you were, quite literally out a places to hide, he knew where you lived, you didn't have friends so you had no where to lay low, he knew who you were, and he's even got you cornered in your own home.

“Good job, detective, you gonna take me to jail?” despite the playful tone you'd taken up, you were nervous, the police didn't like Spider-Man, but you’re sure they'd appreciate him bringing in a criminal like you.

“No.”

You didn't mean to sigh. You really wanted to remain unfazed, but god, you couldn't. You felt like a massive weight had been lifted off your shoulders by the same person who had put it there.

“Why not?”

He chuckled, “I like this, I like you, gives me something to do.”

You laughed, “This is why the cops don't like you.”

After a short pause he said, “Stay safe out there, Cat.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He left after that, through the same window he’d come through. Leaning against the window sill you watch him swing away. Your heart pounding in your ears as he disalearedcinyo the night.

You didn't sleep much that night, his words replaying in your mind over and over again.

‘I like this, I like you..’

You rolled over, pulling the cover up over your shoulders. You weren’t some toy made for his entertainment, you were a thief and a really fucking good one. His words shouldn’t be effecting you the way they were, you were enemies. You fought, hell you nearly slashed his chest open tonight. But he ‘likes you’, sure…

This was some elaborate ploy to get you to turn yourself in, you knew it was.

He was trying to play mind games with you, but you were better at them than he was.

~~~~~~

It’s been two weeks since you’ve been out, a new personal record on your part. Not stealing for two whole weeks! You patted yourself on the back, even through you skin itches and your fingers twitched every time you saw something valuable. But you couldn’t, you were playing the long game with the Spider-Man, you weren’t going to break character now.

You took the bus home from work, getting dropped off a few blocks from your apartment, it started pouring rain about halfway through your walk, soaking your clothes. You hated the rain. You knew it was going to rain, you could smell it in the air, and you could have stolen an umbrella from the rack in the break room, but that’s not what a good upstanding citizen does, so you suffered through the rain, dragging yourself to your apartment, up several flights hold stairs before finally reaching your apartment.

The pitch black scene was comforting, dropping your suitcase on the floor, hearing it thumb loudly. Peeling back layer of soaked clothes and dropping them into a pile.

You felt a million times lighter.

Heading to you bedroom, only flicking the light on when you were inside to find a change of clothes. Bundling them in your arms then flicking the light back off. Heading back to the living room you remembered the pile of wet clothes on the floor, flipping the light switch on, the living room illuminated quickly, everything was exactly as you left it. Well, except for the imposing black figure sitting on your couch. Spider-man. He was deadly silent, seemingly frozen. You stared at him, confused, before remembering the state you were in. Naked.

You weren’t shy, not even a little bit, but you definitely weren’t expecting to be nude in front of people, especially Spider-Man, who was seemingly shocked into silence.

“Breaking and entering is a crime, Spider-Man.”

Nothing.

“Really? You break into my house and you have nothing to say to me?”

Nothing again.

You sighed, walking over to the man, dropping your clothes next to him on the couch before plopping down yourself.

“Earth to Spider-Man? Can you hear me?”

He turned to face you.

“Y/n…” he muttered.

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat, “you're, um.. I just. I was-”

You nodded along to his blabbering, a teasing smile on your face. It took him a moment to figure his words out, but he got it eventually.

“I was...checking on you. You've been missing for a while now, I just wanted to make sure you weren't hurt.”

“Well,” you gestured to your naked body, “as you can see, there's not a scratch nor bruise on me.”

He shifted in his seat, staring for a long moment before looking away.

You grinned, “what's wrong, detective, never seen a man naked before?”

He took a deep breath, then said, “I'm sorry, you should get dressed.”

You hummed, “No, it's fine, I'm comfortable.”

“Cat..” he practically whined.

“Fine, fine, I'll go. You stay here, don't move.”

You were going to use the clothes you gathered after taking a shower, but Spider-Man’s delicate sensibilities called for your immediate coverage.

So you went to your room, peeking out at him through the door, only to see him sitting there, stiff as a board, dressed quickly, and sat back down on the couch next to him as though you hadn't been naked minutes before.

“You going straight, Cat?”

You hummed, “Why would you think that?”

“You got a 9-5, you haven't been out at night, and your gang says you haven't returned their calls.”

“So what, you're stalking me now?”

He didn't respond.

It was kinda cute, he's been following you around, harassing your gang, and he broke into your house again, but seeing you naked is too personal. Poor thing’s got his morals in a twist.Maybe these weren't mind games, or some elaborate scheme, maybe he really did just like you, he wouldn't be the first to obsess over you and he probably wouldn't be the last.

Sighing, you said, “You don't have to worry, I'm quitting tomorrow.”

He turned to you quickly, “Really?”

“Yes, really, besides, I know a better way of making money.”

He paused for a moment, “You're coming back?”

“I was just taking a little break, you know I can't go straight forever. As soon as this rain stops I'm back to my old ways.”

He laughed, then relaxed back against the couch.

“You really missed me that much?”

“Like you wouldn't believe.”

You laughed, scooting a bit closer to the man.

“I missed you too, turns out regular people don't get to copulate with Spider-Man on a nightly basis.”

“That does not mean what you think it does..”

“What?” you grinned, “copulate? Would you rather me say fornicate? Conjugate? Philander? Closest?-”

“Do you just have a dictionary of words that mean sex?”

You shrugged, “Maybe.”

“You are…awful.” despite the insult, you could hear the smile on his voice.

“You still like me though.”

He shifted, “I never said that.”

“Sure you did, right after you told me that you would never let those disgusting cops sully my perfect body with their cop hands.”

“I don't recall that one.”

“I do.” you smirked

It was a little odd, talking with Spider-Man in your own home, usually all of your teasings happened out on the streets. Not tonight though, as the rain poured down, you and the detective enjoyed a nice night in.

#x male reader #male reader #male!reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #male s/o #x male!reader #spider noir x male reader #spider noir x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 3 months

Note

hi em! been off the app lately cuz i've been lazy but i'm so glad i'm seeing u on my dash again <3 i can't express it properly but i missed you so so so much !! hope u can give us some sneak peaks of ur next work hihi (no rush maybe just some hints of what to expect)

Hello, nonnie! I'm glad to be on the dash again! YAY! I've missed being online and interacting with peeps, it was quiet but a bit lonely offline.

I've actually got a snippet here that is HIGHLY work-in-progress, doesn't quite slot into my story so far and might need to go through a couple edits/adjustments before finally being incorporated, but still. Hope you like the direction I'm taking it!

Trigger warnings: uncle-niece incest, medieval daddy kink, suggested (though not actual) quasi-Electra complex, psychological fuckery.

Yes, he thinks to himself, struck by your light-hearted praise, your simple joy. Your innocence, near cloying. I could be her ‘papa’.

He decides to test his theory one evening. The babes are with Rhaenyra; those insipid ladies of yours are abed or in the Sept or wherever-the-fuck; the servants have long since left after stoking the fires and turning down the bedsheets. There is no better time.

“Here.” After pressing a parcel into your hands, he waits as your brow furrows and a half smile pulls at your lips, as your fingers move to unearth the object inside, as your frown deepens while you examine what it is he has given you.

“What is it?” You pull the fabric wrappings away, fully revealing the cloth doll. For all the simplicity of its form, it is the finest specimen coin could buy—pale spun wool for hair, amethyst button eyes, silk embroidery, velvet gown. Your palm cups its head like you cup your babes’ heads. You glance up at him. “Oh. For Aelys?”

“No. For you.”

You had outgrown soft toys at a frightfully early age, preferring instead to cart about your small collection of dolls carved from wood and finely painted. He’s not entirely sure you ever possessed one of cloth.

You laugh, a sharp, strange sound, shaking your head. “I—I have no need for dolls, kepus. I am a woman grown, and a mother at that!”

He can hear the slow burgeoning of agitation in your voice, low as it is. Good. The corner of his mouth curves up. “A display of gratitude would suffice.”

“Gra—Is this some sort of game?” you ask. He cocks his head at the tone—the hostility. Curious. He’d barely done anything. You huff, rising from the bed and busying yourself by smoothing out your skirts, breaking eye contact. You stare over at the empty cradle. “I do not wish to play.”

“No game.” Daemon cannot help but notice that, for all your apparent ire, you still clutch the doll to you like it is something precious. “Call it… speculation, if you must.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Really, my girl. You’re far too vexed for a thing so trite. Perhaps I’ve struck upon a source of turmoil.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

You stubbornly refuse to look his way as he rises, his height outstripping yours easily. Barely perceptible is the subtle way your shoulders seem to shrink inward, protecting the vulnerable flesh of your throat as though he means to strike. He notices.

“Don’t you?” he asks. His fingers brush your jaw. When you jerk away, he moves instinctively to clamp your chin between thumb and finger, halting your churlish rebellion. “I’m not blind, you know—to your envy.”

Your nostrils flare despite your valiant attempts at composure. “Envy?”

Almost. You are truly angry now, he thinks. The ideal temperament to bait you into an admission. He lets his head fall, his nose skimming across your temple, featherlight. You shiver at his touch.

“Yes,” he murmurs. “Of your own children, no less. I see it. You desire the attention I give to them, is that it?” You react viscerally to that, but he is quicker; one hand presses you to his chest by the scruff of the neck and the other grabs just below your rear. It is enough to topple you into him. He hums as he seats himself back down upon the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap, his knee bouncing below you. “No. You desire the same attention. I’m their father—and where’s yours? Where he’s always been. Not here. Not for you. Never for you.”

Your indignant squirming ceases, and he hears the hitch in your breath before you deign to speak. “Stop it. Stop. That—that’s cruel.”

Ah, fuck. Too far. He changes course.

“Sh… I know, I know. I understand. Come.” He keeps his voice soft, the sharpest of daggers seeking the yielding flesh between ribs.

Gathering you close, head tucked under his chin, rump to thigh, his hand soothing between your shoulders, he says, “Papa’s here, sweetling.”

Your stomach feels as though it has dropped cleanly through your body, past your feet and into the ground.

Papa’s here, sweetling. Papa’s here, sweetling. Papa. Papa. Papa.

At first, you know not what to do. Scramble off and yell? Pretend you did not hear him? Dive for the sheets, block the world out? Your blood feels like ice in your veins. Your eyes prickle uncomfortably. You are frozen.

Daemon speaks again, palm like a brand through the thin layer of your shift. “There’s no shame in it. In wanting this.”

The urge to flee washes over you once more, building in your bones, threatening to spring you from his hold. “I—”

“Ah.” A sharp, barking vowel of remonstration, the sound a kennelmaster might use to bring his pack to heel.

The sound a father uses to correct a wilful child, your mind supplies unhelpfully.

“Besides,” he continues, casual in his cruelty, sweet poison on the tip of his tongue. And it is cruel, surely it is, it must be, surely it is the very worst, most horrible thing he has ever done, made you small, made you insignificant, made you wish for— “You don’t have a choice. Little girls are meant to abide by their papas, are they not?”

A small, churlish part of you rankles at his words, snapping your head up to glare before you can remember why it is you had been so steadfastly avoiding his stare. The indignation fades as you look upon him. In his eyes, you see what he does not say. A softening.

Tell me to stop, it says, and I will. Deny me if you must, but only if it is truly what you desire.

Almost without sanction, you shudder. You wilt, there is no other word for it, melting like ice in the sun, dripping, limbs trickling to water as you sink properly into Daemon’s waiting arms. They fold around you, over you like they had known to expect you here, like this.

Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. The room is bigger, or you are diminished, startlingly exposed, raw like burnt skin. Your lower lip wobbles.

“Papa,” you whisper, higher and more timorous than you have ever sounded. His arms tighten. You feel him nodding above you.

“That’s right,” he says, smooth in its devastation. Full of warmth, kindness, a muted sympathy. Poor little orphan child. Dead mother, father scarcely worth the name. All alone. It feels like an old wound, one that has never truly healed, something to live with but to never forget. “You’re mine. My babe, aren’t you?”

“But—but ‘m not.” A bizarre urge to beat your fists against his chest and wail washes over you. Regret? Resentment? Rage? You know not. “Rhaenar and—and Aelys—”

“Are mine—as you are mine.” Fingers and thumb pinch your jaw, drag it up. Daemon’s expression is set firm, tender but no less resolved. My word is your law, it says. “I have my heirs. I can have a sweet little girl, too.”

For a split second, you imagine what it might have been like if he had been your father instead—

(If it were Daemon, not Viserys, who had sired you. There would have been no septa to chastise your every failing. No threat of marriage to force your hand. Anything you had asked for—anything you desired—would be yours, scarcely a question asked. And, perhaps most damning of all, he would have given you every scrap, every iota of the attention, the care you have always felt so greedy in wanting. You would never have cause to wonder if your father loved you.)

—And, in that fleeting moment, you find yourself wishing that he had been. That he really was your papa, and not just your uncle, not just your husband. The thought makes your heart thud and your stomach lurch, your limbs acting on that swooping sensation to try and rise from his knee.

“That’s enough,” he says, dragging you back and turning your head into his neck, firm, unyielding, other hand coming down just a little too hard above your backside to be gentle. A warning. “You’re thinking too much. Sh.”

Still, you struggle. “I don’t—”

“You don’t need to think. Empty your head. Let Papa take over.”

It is like you needed permission for it before your body truly relaxes. The tears spill over your lashes, not sorrowful, no, but relieved. You let him adjust you how he likes—little girl, he says, you’re a little girl and it’s not your choice now—arm banding beneath your knees and oh, now you truly do feel little, small and young and yielding, tucked in as baby bird in a nest might be. Cradled like an infant in his grasp, it is warm and safe as it always is, but now that feeling you have never been able to reach out and name has its proper form.

I am just a babe. It slinks through your mind like a single thread in a tapestry, innocuous and necessary for the whole image to come together. I am just his babe now. Above you, Daemon voices much the same.

“That’s it… good girl…”

This is a VERY early draft for jorraeliarzus (beloved), the next instalment in my terms of endearment series. Please be aware that it might not make it into the final version without significant editing.

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x you #daemon x oc #daemon x you #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #got fanfiction #asoiaf fanfiction #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #terms of endearment │ daemon targaryen x reader

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luminousbeings-crudematter · 7 months

Text

PAIRING: Office! Ghost/Co-Worker! Ghost x F! Reader

WARNINGS: smut || this is the fluffiest this blog is going to get and is not indicative of the vibe around these here parts (im on my period and need softness okay???) || 18+ only ||

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 of 4

***

You don’t play games with men.

You swear you don’t — that’s not really you, you just want to fuck them—but there is something about Simon, no, Ghost, no, Simon that makes you want to.

There’s something he’s done to the chemistry in your brain—him and his “mate” Ghost—that makes you feel like there’s fun to be had here, you just have to reach out and take it. You don’t find his deception funny (far from it), but what would be funny is if you were to play along a bit. Let him think he’s got you.

But he had gotten you. He’d gotten you good.

After you’d left his office, his real office, you’d laid awake all night thinking about all the signs you’d missed. The standoffish attitude, how none of your other coworkers engaged with him, how your boss barely engaged with him. You weren’t sure if they knew he was Ghost, but everyone had enough self-preservation to stay away from the big, mean, tank of a man who didn’t care to participate in office small-talk. Everyone but you, that is. Sure, you’d guessed he was some big-shot but fuck.

You’re still contemplating on how to get him back the next morning before work, when you see him walk towards you. Shit . With nowhere to run without him seeing, you quickly decide on your strategy—calm and collected. You’re quite impressed by yourself, you even almost convince yourself that you can do it.

“Alright?” he murmurs, when he reaches you. He’s tapping his pockets looking for a lighter when you open your mouth and “calm and collected” tumbles out of your mouth with all the grace of a lanky baby giraffe.

“Ghost couldn’t make me come.” Like an aberrant whore, you almost shout the words at him. Embarrassment unfurls inside you, deep in the pit of your stomach, and you have to bite your lip to prevent more words tumbling out and exposing you.

“Ghost couldn’t…make you come.” He repeats in a monotone. When you look up into his eyes, they’re wider and darker than you’ve ever seen them, before he schools his expression back to normal. "You tell him that?”

“Did I tell him?” Shit. “Well…no, of course I didn’t ‘ tell him,’ Simon, he’s…scary!”

“Scary.” Simon repeats the word to you in a monotone again, and you’re left wondering if you’ve broken him.

“Can you speak with your own words?” you ask with a nervous laugh, and his eyes snap to you and narrow slightly. You know what’s happening, at that moment. You both know what’s happening.

He knows you saw the file on his desk the previous night—he’d seen you gape at it and then (poorly) rearrange your face into neutrality before you’d practically sprinted out of the room. He knows you’ve figured out that he’s “Ghost.”

He knows that you know, he’s just trying to figure out if he should call your bluff.

“Alright. Alright, tell you what.” Simon crosses his arms over his chest and you’ve never seen so animated about anything . “Give it another go, yeah? Let ‘im…let ‘im try again.”

“And you care because…?” Your own eyes narrow as you try to figure out what he’s playing at. If you’re being bested at your own game, again.

“Well, if gets you to shu’up about him, I’m willin’ to play.”

“You’re willing to play,” you whisper, and holy shit. You watch as his eyes darken at your words. There are no illusions between the two of you now. What had started as you wanting to murder him was easily being turned around on you, and you weren’t sure who was punishing whom anymore. “Fine,” you say, shrugging casually. Though, with how decidedly not casual you feel, it probably looks like you’re having a muscle cramp.

“Fine. Here. Tonight.”

“Here?” you screech, then look around to make sure no one’s heard you. “Simon, we can’t— Ghost can’t be here, if we got caught I could lose my job—”

“Shut up,” he murmurs. “Go to work. Be back here tonight.”

If you were more than a human puddle in that moment, you would have kicked him for his audacity.

***

You used to find it comforting how little Simon spoke, one of the most non-verbal people you’d ever met, communicating with you mostly through eye contact with you from across the room. If you had to wager, about eighty percent of his communication with you was eye rolls and grunting at you in irritation. The rest of the twenty, you’re sure, spent laughing at and/or making fun of you.

But horny Simon is different. Horny Simon is verbose as fuck . “Mmpf, you taste so good , sweet girl.” His voice is muffled, and a very satisfied smile makes its way to your face.

“Mutton chops would kill you if he found out,” you breathe. But you choke and almost squeal when his teeth graze you in warning.

“Shh.”

“Fuck ,” you whimper. The sound echoes in the dark room and you curse again. “I swear to God, we’re gonna get caught.”

“Keep that pretty mouth shut for me, then, love. Don’t want to get in trouble, do ya?”

He’s spread you out on your own desk. It is absurd beyond belief, and if the two of you get caught, the punishment’s going to be much worse for you than for Simon, who would just suffer death at the hands of his CO. But even you can’t help but admit that the fact that he’s spread you out the way he has has got you thinking (already!) on when you can get him to do it next.

Your hand makes its way into lush blond strands, and you tug at him, whining quietly, and he gets the message. He pushes himself up, and brings his face level with yours, looking deeply into your eyes, the scar on his lip pulling slightly with his smirk. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you whisper back. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

His smile is small—barely a twist of his lips—but you know that if you let it out into the world, it would move mountains. “D’y’know why I was on desk duty, love?”

You would answer him with a degree of coherence if he wasn’t kissing your neck wetly, fingers continuing to move in and out of you in a way that was going to drive you insane. “Mm, no, lieutenant,” you moan. “Why… oh! Why were you on desk duty?”

He gets back on his knees again, lips never leaving your skin, just slowly making the journey down, hovering around your inner thigh. His eyes stay fixed on his fingers moving inside you. “Davis. Heard him speakin’ about ya. Prick needed a reminder of his manners.”

You gasp and push him away from you in shock. “What?”

“Wanted to fuckin’ kill him for speaking about you like that, y’know that?”

“You—Davis ?”

“Don’t want to hear you say ‘nother man’s name right now, love,” he warns.

You’re still processing what you’ve heard, when his expression changes slightly—fuck why is he so wickedly handsome?—and he brings his wet fingers up to you, rubbing them on your lips. Your mind blanks before you lie back and your head thuds slightly against the desk. “All this time, you wanted...”

“All this time,” he confirms, and it seems he’s reached the end of his patience with the chatting. “Asked Price to send me ‘ere if he was gonna punish me, so I could have a chance to ‘ave ya.” You see him undo his belt and his hands move over your body gently before they settle on your hips. “Do I have ya then, pet?”

You push up on your elbows, and extend a hand towards him, fingers outstretched. He pauses—looking nothing short of the god of corruption with his jeans undone and his hair dishevelled and his eyes wild with lust. He holds your hand, fingers intertwined with yours. When he bends forward to kiss you, you find yourself smiling into the kiss.

“Depends. Will you let me come tonight?”

His answering smile against your lips feels like he’s lit something inside—light and warm and alive inside you, little sparks crackling with energy—and you’re briefly rendered breathless at the depth of your attraction to him. “Let ya? Thought you said I couldn’t make you?”

Oh . Oh, he’s so fucking sweet, this gorgeous, weird, weird man with his balaclava and his forearms and his teasing and his fucking tattoos, you briefly (in a moment of insanity) want to hold him close to you. Just for a second, get him to put his head on your chest.

“Wanted y’to know who you were coming for, love. Wanted t’hear you say my name. Couldn’t let y’come if you didn’t, could I?”

And then he’s pulling his cock out of his jeans, stroking himself once, then twice, and your mouth waters at the sight. You want to keep watching him do it, reckon you could get off just watching him like that, but then he speaks.

“Y’want this?” The words take you back to last night, he even says it in that stern baritone he reserves for when he’s under the mask, and your mouth becomes unreasonably dry.

“Yeah…yeah, I want this,” you whisper. Before you’re overthinking or swooning at the sight of his cock, he’s pushing into you, stretching you out for him, bullying his cock into you. You feel every single inch of him and the deliciousness of it—how you can feel yourself stretch to accommodate him—makes you groan.

“Don’t you close your eyes, don’t you fuckin’ dare! You fuckin stay with me, you hear me?” The words are a desperate growl and your eyes snap open. He’s looking at you intensely, eyes searching yours for something, you’re not sure what, and you stare right back at him. You try to convey through your gaze how much you want this, how much you’ve ached for it.

You’re convinced the message is received when he lets out a gorgeous sound, the most filthy moan to ever leave a man, and flips you over with ease. It doesn’t leave you with a single thought in your mind, the overstimulation of your environment—the ego boost of finally getting what you want, the way he’s making you feel right now, the movement of his hips against yours—and you feel like you’ll go insane if you don’t do something with the excess energy.

And oh , he makes it so much better, like he hears your thoughts, knows your body, because he puts two fingers in your mouth while he continues to pound into you from behind. The same two fingers that were inside you, so you can taste yourself on your tongue.

He pauses for a moment to adjust and it makes you whine at the fact that he’s stopped, even for that one second, so much so that you take charge, fuck back into him and keep that momentum going, allowing his cock to hit that spot inside you. Simon freezes for a second, body tense and you think you’ve done something wrong or worse, hurt him, but his hands tighten on your hips and he pulls you up to your knees using just fingers in your mouth, making you gasp.

“I fuckin’ love how you give it t’me. Been gagging for it, aren’t ya, love.”

Yeah, horny Simon is verbose.

“Fuck, Simon, fuck, you feel so good,” you whine and your eyes are blurry, you realise. Every plunge of his cock feels like it hits deeper and deeper into you. You collapse like a house of cards, your cheek hitting the blessed cold of the desk, and allow a shaky hand to find your clit.

But Simon has very particular plans for you. He bats your hand away with a huff-laugh in your ear, taking over the task himself. “Gonna say my name when I make you come?” You moan as he rubs your clit in exactly the way you need and he laughs again. “Yeah , you will.”

When you come, it’s sudden and it takes you by surprise, making every muscle in your body seize up and contract. It’s almost painful, a cramp that starts in your lower abdomen and spreads upwards, leaving you clamping on him, panting and breathless and absolutely spent, his name on your lips like you're chanting it. Through it all, he continues to speak to you in your ear. “That’s it, love, that’s it. Good fuckin’ girl, you’re such a good fuckin’ girl for me.”

But the way Simon groans when he comes? You want it burned in your memory, the sound bouncing around your brain long after he’s gone. You want to hear it in your mind every time you touch yourself. Better yet, you want to hear it from his mouth when he comes for you, in you. The thought elevates you to a type of rapturous giddiness, an indescribably light feeling in your chest when you think about doing this with him again.

For the moment, though, you’re completely boneless, a fact he perceives clearly because he smacks your ass as he pulls out of you, and chuckles at your greedy whine.

“Now what?” you whisper a few moments later, whilst he’s in the middle of cleaning you both up and he freezes for millisecond.

“What do y’want to happen?”

“Erm. I haven’t…it’s not something I’ve thought about.” You laugh at the absurdity for a second. “I didn’t expect any of this.”

He sits on your chair (the same chair you’re going to have to sit on the next day while you work, pretending that he hadn’t just fucked you here) and he pulls you on to him so you’re straddling him. It takes a second, what with him manspreading, and you having to find some space to jam your legs between his thighs and the arms of the chair. He watches in amusement as you wriggle and get comfortable, and then uses a single finger to tip your chin up so he can look at you. “Hello, love,” he whispers.

“Hi.”

“Stop thinkin’ ‘bout it.”

“But—”

“No.”

“Simon, I don’t—”

“Shut the fuck up. Look at me. Give us a kiss.” You glare at him and he barks out a rare laugh, squeezing your cheeks together. “Stop thinking so much.”

“We could get in trouble,” you try to say, but he still doesn’t move his hands away.

“Don’t care, pet. I’ll tell the world myself.”

That shuts you up. You touch his lips, elated and in awe at the intimacy of doing this with him, being with him like this.

“Wish you’d just told me,” you say quietly. “We’d have had so much more time together. You’ve only got a week of your punishment left.” You roll your eyes. “You’re a fool, Simon.”

“Maybe,” he concedes. “Still got time though, love. Night’s still young.”

His eyes glow wickedly, gorgeously, when you ask if he wants to do it on Davis’ desk.

(You do end up doing it on Davis’ desk. As a bonus, you even end up blowing him while he leans against your boss’ desk.)

***

You wish you could say your life changes entirely and absolutely after that night, but it’s not quite like that. You’re still a data analyst for the government. You still work on a military base, surrounded by the fittest men and women you’ve ever seen. You still see Ghost around the base with MacTavish, arms crossed around his chest, legs planted apart, looking like his only cares in the world are to a) stand behind the Scot like a beefy bodyguard and b) look deliciously sexy while he does it.

There are some changes though. Davis puts in for a transfer after lunch on his first day back. You suspect that that cutie MacTavish has something to do with it (you made Simon promise not to interfere) but all parties deny involvement. Simon still tries to meet you for your smoke breaks sometimes, and you update him on the office gossip. He informs you that no one at your workplace drew the connection between Simon and Ghost, it was just his demeanour that kept them away. You find this hilarious for about two seconds before you realise that you probably lack crucial self-preservation skills if his demeanour made you horny instead of scared.

People in the office ask you about him sometimes, but you shrug it off good-naturedly, telling them that Simon’s a good friend, but it’s someone else you’re seeing. And when they see you walking funny and also hand in hand with the masked freak on base? Well. They’re too scared to ask any more questions.

***

A/N: Thank you so much for reading ♡ ♡

Taglist: @devcica || @kneelingshadowsalome || @tiredmetalenthusiast || @miyabilicious || @xintothewoodswegox || @almightywdm || @nrthple || @cassiecasluciluce || @glitterypirateduck || @ho3forghost || @ivymarquis

#I hope you enjoyed this corporate girlie anon #this was all for you 🥹#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #Simon Riley x reader #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #simon riley #ghost #ghost smut #Simon Riley smut #ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #Coworker! Ghost #lumi writes

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allmyocsarebritish · 17 days

Text

Dressed to kill

Pairing: Angel Dust X Reader

Warnings(?): Angel does reader's makeup, and unintentionally pokes them in the eye, I have no idea how to do makeup, this came to me when I found pink eyeshadow

Also yes, that's my eye lololol

"Please, toots. I'm literally beggin ya!" Angel complained once more, dramatically draping himself over the bed beside where you sat.

"I promise ya'll love it if ya just-"

You cut him off with an exaggerated sigh and roll of your eyes, though the amused smile on your lips evidenced your joking tone.

"Alright fine, I suppose it won't hurt."

"Yes! Don't worry babe, I'll make ya look stunnin'!" He practically leaped off the bed at your response, though his movements were unreasonably agile and smooth as usual.

You exhaled a breathy laugh at Angel's excitement, drawing your knees up to your chest whilst watching him search his dresser. Rummaging through the drawers, he pulled out (ha) various small wash bags. Each was a slightly different shade of pink, and all embroidered with his name in extravagant lettering. Satisfied with his collection of supplies, he retreated back to the bed, dumping them all on top of the duvet.

"Ya ready?" Angel grinned, lower set of hands resting on his hips.

"Go ahead." You smiled,resting back against the plush headboard. Angel hovered over you, a knee on either side of your legs. Your face flushed at the sudden proximity, which he immediately picked up on.

"What's wrong baby? A bit too close?~" Angel's words were genuine, though he spoke with a massively flirty tone which drew even more heat to your cheeks.

"N-not at all." Despite the fact you *tried* to match his demeanor, you stuttered over your words and just appeared a flustered mess. Angel chuckled and leant back slightly, allowing you space to breathe as he dug through his eyeshadows.

"I'd start by givin' ya some blush but I really don't think ya need it!" He teased before retrieving a small, silver palette.

"Wait, Ange, hold on, aren't you supposed to start with concealer?" You wondered aloud, mildly confused.

"I suppose ya could, but ya really don't need it, babe" he responded, frowning ever so slightly. "Perfect just the way ya are."

You smiled and thanked him for his sweet compliment, to which he leant down and pecked your nose. Still cupping your cheeks with one set of hands, he opened the palette with another, dusting the pigment onto a brush.

"Close ya eyes for me?" He requested, to which you obliged. The brush was soft against your skin, and Angel's strokes were gentle yet deliberate. You could feel his warm breath fan across your cheeks as he exhaled, deep in concentration. You smiled at the thought of his focused face, wishing that you could open your eyes and see him. It was at that moment that you realised you had no idea what you were going to look like. Of course you trusted Angel almost entirely, but even still you wouldn't put it past him to make you look ridiculous.

"What colour are you doing?" You asked to which he laughed mischievously.

"Wait and see." His response raised your suspicions even further, though you couldn't help but smile at Angel's antics. Your wait wasn't long, however, as a few moments later he leant back, making you immediately miss the contact and warmth brought by your proximity to the spider.

"Open!" Angel's excitement was barely concealed in his tone, and a mirror was thrust into your hand as soon as your eyes adjusted to the bright light of the room after being closed for so long. Your concerns were proven unnecessary by the clean and glittery pink and black eyeshadow adorning your eyelid, perfectly complimenting the colour of your iris.

"Okay, you were right, I do love it." You admitted defeat, wondering why you were skeptical.

"Ya seem surprised. Ain't got no faith in me?" Angel dramatically rested a hand on his chest in mock offence, to which you playfully rolled your eyes.

"No, never." You deadpanned. He scoffed before reaching for an eyeliner pencil.

"Look up." Angel advised, gently pressing down on your cheek to expose your waterline.

Unfortunately the pencil slipped.

"Ow!" You winced, jerking away and squinting your eye closed.

"Fuck, sorry." Angel grimaced as you rubbed it to relieve the stinging from being poked. "Would ya like ta do the other one yourself?" He offered, to which you nodded, trying to surpress a laugh. Balancing the mirror on your knee, you put on the eyeliner yourself, making a point of the lack of casualty.

"I said I'm sorry, what more do ya want from me?"

You shook your head and put down the eyeliner and Angel took his place back on top of you. You rested your hands on his hips for balance.

"So, what's next, love?" You asked, watching as he considered.

"False eyelashes or mascara?"

"Which is less likely to make me lose my eyes?" You teased, yet more reference to the fact he poked you. Angel scoffed and rolled his eyes, reaching for an eyelash curler.

"Uh, no, no, no. There is no way in hell I'm letting you near my eyes with that!"

"Fine, fine!!" He held up all four hands in surrender and dropping it on a cushion.

The next challenge presented itself in the form of Angel trying to put the mascara on you.

"Hold still!"

"No!"

"Toots I swear I won't poke ya in the eye again." He promised, and, though you had your doubts, you sat obediently, allowing him to coat your lashes.

"See! What'd I tell ya?!" He leant back again, proud smile on his lips as he admired his work.

"Ya look stunning, babe." He told you, closing the distance between the two of you. "Just one final touch and then we're done!"

Unscrewing the lid of a lip gloss tube, he made as though he were going to put it on you, before turning at the last second and putting it on himself, looking away. You raised an eyebrow and shook your head, smirk brightening your features.

"Oh ya wanted some?" Angel feigned innocence, dramatically looking into the plastic tube. "That's a shame, there's none left! Guess ya'd better come here then!"

You rolled your eyes and grabbed Angel's small lapels, pulling him into you and kissing him, feeling the product transfer.

"Gee, thanks babe!" You replied, continuing to act like there wasn't multiple full tubes on the bed surrounding you both.

"Ya look amazing, Y/N."

"Thanks Angie, you're so good at makeup. Well, apart from eyeliner." He rolled his eyes at you before leaning in again.

"I told ya! I'm sorry"

"I might have to ask Charlie to schedule a lesson on how not to poke someone in the eye." You teased, dragging out the joke.

"Of course ya will." He rolled his eyes again.

"I do forgive you though. And thank you, for doing it for me" You wrapped your arms around him and drew him in for a tight hug.

"Any time."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust x reader #hazbin hotel angel #hazbin hotel anthony #hazbin angel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin #hazbin fanfic #angel dust x reader #angel x reader #angel dust #angel dust imagine

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thisismeracing · 7 months

Note

mick + memories + angst. (i'm in the mood to cry over him right now) AND ANYWAY CONGRATULATIONS ON 1K HONEYYY TOTALLY DESERVED!!!<33

Memories | MS47

⸺ star-crossed lovers. ✓ mentions of pregnancy.

⁕ one word, a thousand stories blurb night (CLOSED) ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

When Mick showed up at Yn's family's doorstep on Thanksgiving after three years apart, he had hoped that by seeing his face she would be reminded that maybe it wasn't over. That there was some kind of hope because sure thing there was still love.

He hugged those who used to be his in-laws, her mother complaining about how quiet he went after the breakup, how much they missed him, and her dad telling him that secretly he still watched all his races. For a second, it felt as if nothing had changed, as if things could fit back together into the old picture it was, except they couldn't, and Mick was reminded of it the second Yn showed up in the living room.

One exchanged look and all the memories passed in front of them like a movie. Yn's yellow sundress fitting perfectly on her pregnant belly, her skin glowing, her hair shorter than when they used to date, her nails still painted neon colors, and the small pendant he gave her still there, except it didn't rest close to her heart on a chain anymore, but on a small bracelet almost hidden along random ones she used to collect from travels, it was also dimmed by the diamond ring on her finger. It had everything to be his favorite view, his favorite movie, maybe in another dimension he could pretend they were together, that she was pregnant with his kid, that she still wore his pendant on a neckless, that her neon nails would scratch his head by the end of the day.

"H-hi, Mick," she smiled. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone soft, her curious gaze drinking every inch of him.

"Hey," he got up from the couch, his heart hammering on his chest.

Yn's parents found an excuse and left the room giving them their so much-needed space.

"I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited, but I- do you remember the peach tree we planted together back on my family's ranch?" he asked, and Yn nodded, though Mick was looking through the windows. "Last week it finally grew its first peach, and I was reminded of you, of us- I couldn't fight it in, couldn't stay away."

She took a small step towards him, but Mick shook his head. "Never mind, I'm sorry. I'll-" he wanted to state he would find someone like her, but Mick would be lying if he said it out loud because deep down he knew he would never find someone like her, just like Yn knew she would never find someone like him.

They were star-crossed lovers.

"I wish nothing but the best for you, Schatzi," he whispered watching her hands caress her mid-pregnancy belly.

Yn sniffed, letting tears cascade her face rolling down like dominoes and taking away the dust from the memories she buried deep in her heart, "I wish you the same, Micky." She wanted to add that she wished it was with him, that she wished life had been fair with them, that in another life she would be his girl. His treasure, and only his.

"Don't forget me," he begged, and though he felt like a selfish wish, Mick wanted to be reminded, especially because he would never forget.

The front door opened and her husband walked inside with her brother who ran to Mick telling him how much he missed the German around.

"Babe, we drove hours, but I found your craving," Ian, the husband, held a plastic bag in front of Yn with a proud smile on his face.

Mick watched the scene unfold. Watched her smile brightly at him, watched her give him the kind of hug he would receive a couple years back. Watched her silently love him almost like he once was loved. "Thank you," Yn whispered, planting a kiss in the corner of Ian's lips.

When they turned to Mick and her brother, Yn smiled. "I'll remember." It was her answer, her promise. She would love others, and she would live a happy life, but she would never forget him.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: It's not even THAT sad, but I'm on my period so I almost cried writing it LOL anyways, clearly wrote it while listening to Someone Like You by Adele. Also, it felt more like fluff than angsty, and for that I am sorry! But I hope you like itttt <3 thanks for the request and endless support *mwah*

#ms47 #requests #op: blurbs #one word a thousand stories blurb night #mick schumacher one shot #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher #mick schumacher imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 angst

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frogserotonin · 1 year

Note

Hiiii, I badly need more Anthony Lockwood x reader on this app so could you do one where reader joins the agency and there are immediate sparks between her and lockwood (he's always flirting with her, he always does small things for her and he always protects her first in a mission) and one day he gets really injured trying to save her during their missions and at home she's really worried when patching him up and they end up confessing to eachother after they have a mini argument. Then they kiss and make up or makeout 😘

god yeah anon, i get what you mean, the reason im writing is literally bc i need more fanfic 😭 i have read every fucking lockwood x reader on here and ao3 if ya'll want anything written just ask :D - lots of love, mars

everything - anthony lockwood x reader

warnings: violence, ooc, kissing, cursing

You weren’t exactly sure when it had started, this weird tension between you and Anthony Lockwood. It was an odd thing that the both of you left unspoken about, despite the numerous jokes, comments and questions from Lucy and George.

Maybe it had been when you’d first joined the agency. When he’d opened the door to see who was knocking and gone completely slack jawed at the sight of you, before collecting himself and adorning his prize-winning smirk.

“Well hello love, how may we help you?” he’d said, casually resting against the doorframe.

“Are you Lockwood of Lockwood and Co?” your cheeks had reddened from the cold and nothing else. Most definitely not because of the casual pet name he’d thrown in.

“That would indeed be me.” he nodded, easy smirk still resting on his lips. “I assume you’re here for an interview then, come on in and we’ll get you sorted.”

After you’d passed the interview with flying colours, he’d told you how much he looked forward to working with you with a wink and a charming toothy grin. Even now, your heart rate went up a considerable amount every time you saw that fucking smile.

Maybe it had been your first case, when you and Lockwood had had to hide from a very persistent Type Two and you’d dragged Lockwood into the nearest open room and shoved him into the wall. You’d pinned him there with one hand on his arm, pressing it to the wall, and the other over his mouth. Afterwards he’d tried to charm his way out of your teasing his red face.

You didn’t know when it’d started but far out, you knew that it was there and that if nothing happened soon you might just kiss him the next time he speaks.

~~~

“George, Luce, angel, we’ve got a new case.” Lockwood called from the hall, placing the phone down and smiling widely. (Damn that smile, it made your heart weak and your brain fuzzy) “We’re going as soon as possible so it’s best we get ready as fast as we can.”

And that was that. You all packed the necessities, like you always did. You all loaded into a taxi and waited patiently until you were at the clients house, like you always did. Lockwood checked with you to see if you had everything you needed, like he always did.

“George!” Lucy called from her place halfway up the stairs. “Come with me, we need to check out the drawing room you read about.” You almost missed the wink she directed your way.

Great, now you and Lockwood were alone. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Shall we?” he offered his hand and pulled you towards some of the creepier looking closed doors, not-so-discreetly pulling you behind him. Slowly he opens the furthest door, nothing happens. You open the second door, and suddenly you’re thrown against the wall.

“Y/N!” Lockwood cried, pulling his rapier out and swinging it at the ghost that’d materialised. For a bit he succeeded in pushing it back, allowing you time to reorient yourself, before he too was thrown away from the ghost, his rapier landing near his head. You groaned and hauled yourself up, grabbing your own rapier and stabbing at the ghost. It disappeared, then reappeared behind you, causing you to swing around wildly, accidentally putting yourself in the ghosts close vicinity. You felt your limbs start to lock up as you held eye contact with your doom, hoping and praying that Lucy and George had found the source and were covering it with the silver net. The ghost moved closer and closer to you, and you silently mourned all the things you never got to say.

And then, just as you’d accepted your fate, Anthony fucking Lockwood pushed you out of the way. You didn’t have time to dwell on that though, the both of you rolling in opposite directions so as to avoid the ghost swiping at you, before disappearing. You sat up and looked at Lockwood, catching his eye and sending a wobbly smile his way.

“You okay?” he asked, voice a bit strained. You nodded and asked him the same question.

“Yeah…I’m good.” he said, lying through his teeth.

“The fuck you are.” You forced your sore body to stand up so you could walk towards him and check him for injuries.

“Y/N! Lockwood!” Lucy ran towards you, halting your endeavour. “Are you two okay?”

~~~

The taxi drive home was awkward and tense. You fought a raging battle against the urge to call him out for being injured, to ask him what was wrong.

When you got home you dragged Anthony into the kitchen and sat him down on a chair.

“Tell me where the fuck you’re hurt right now or I swear I will find out what your worst fear is and make it real.” Lockwood chuckled.

“Love, I’m fine, really.”

“Don’t lie to me, Lockwood.”

Then silence and a slight guilt and still, somehow, that damned fucking tension. So you, do what any normal person would do and pull his jacket off, immediately spotting where he was injured due to the blood staining his white shirt. More silence and more guilt, that stays in the air while you wrap his cut.

“I’m sorry-” He starts but you’re quick to cut him off.

“If you were sorry you’d stop throwing yourself at danger at every given opportunity. You’re so fucking reckless, all the damn time!” You didn’t mean to start berating him but now you couldn’t stop, because he did need to hear this. “Do you know how much you worry us? Do you think George and Lucy and I like seeing you get injured? Goddamn it we care so much about you. Why do you pull these stunts?”

You only now realise how close your faces are. You could feel his breath on you face.

“I don’t think you realise how deeply I care for you.” he whispered, voice husky and low. “You are...everything. I can't breathe when you're not around me and I can't think when you're near me. I would set the entire world aflame if you asked me to. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I sleep. I love you so much it hurts my heart and my head and my entire being."

You didn't know what to say to respond to that. You were a mess. God maybe-

Fuck it.

His lips were soft against yours. His hair between your fingers, softer. His hands on the sides of your face, gentle. You were kissing him and he was kissing you and you were losing your mind.

"Darling, you drive me insane." he whispered against your lips, matching smiles painting both of your faces.

"I love you too, idiot."

"Of course you do."

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #lucy carlyle #george karim #mars's fanfiction stuffs ✨

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fan-goddess · 2 months

Text

Yes sir…

Thank you @succnfuccubus for inspiring me to write this and convincing me to actually do this

Summary: After another rejection, Billy’s feeling a little down in the dumps. But after meeting with your friend that morning and looking at a unique source material, you get a very unique idea on how to hopefully cheer him up.

Authors Note: Gave the friend a name as it was just easier. I loved the idea, but I don’t like this for some reason

Taglist: @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee @targaryenbarbie @anjelicawrites d

Warnings: Smut books, p in v sex, m oral, praise kink, power imbalance role play, role play, angst, comforting, sad boy Billy Washington, the economy, begging, cuddling (if I miss any let me know)

Billy had never been a particularly avid reader. The most he’d ever voluntarily read probably being the required reading for secondary school English. You on the other hand, even before you’d stumbled across the smut section on the internet, had always been a common bookworm.

When your friend Lya first began to lend you books from her so called private collection though, now that’s when you became a woman possessed. Soon, most of what you were reading involved some sort of dark romance filtered in. Whether that was mafia, pirate, or just a simple brother’s best friend romance. You read it all with an expressionless face.

Yet when you’d begun to date Billy, you must confess to the amusement of Lya, who you’d been borrowing books from for all these years, that you hadn’t been borrowing and reading as many of those sort of books as you used too. Since now, you had a real life romance novel in front of your very eyes to carry out. It wasn’t exactly the dream romance kids pictured after watching a Disney movie, but what sort of relationships were these days?

The last few days, you and Billy had been unable to have sex due to a sudden difference in work times. Well, your work times and Billy’s interviews. Still, whilst you were used to this happening at some random times, your pussy had taken a sudden hit with the recent dry streak. Now, you were beginning to crave one of those novels of yours in your hands again. Desperate for a new sort of fiction that’d get brain stimulated and your cunt working.

So you called the best smut dealer you knew.

“Hey bestie!” You grinned, picking at your nail while your other hand was busy holding the phone. “I need a favour…” She’d laughed when you’d asked her for a new recommendation, yet to your relief, you and her had managed to agree to a meet up the next day to, exchange the goods.

The morning you were supposed to leave, you remember kissing Billy goodbye as your adorable half asleep boyfriend was still laying in bed all cosy and pretty. “Where are you going?” He’d grumbled, so cute with a small tired pout on his face that it almost made you want to strip back down to nothing and pounce on him there and then. The lack of sex it seemed was really getting to you right now.

“Visiting one of my friends for a morning drink. Nothing much baby. Remember though you’ve got that interview at 3, so don’t forget!” You smiled, giving him another deep kiss before you go that left Billy’s cheeks flushed from bashfulness. He’s so effortlessly fucking sexy it was utterly unreal…

When you got to the cafe you’d planned to meet Lya at, she eagerly waved at you from a discreet corner of the room. She may be honest as hell about what she reads, but she sure as hell knows how to act like a fucking dealer about it.

“Hello darling!” You smile, moving so you could give her a quick hug before sitting opposite her. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been alright thanks babes! Stocking up on my little novel collection, which reminds me!” She gives you a mischievous smile, and from her bag produced a book with quite a different cover than what you thought it’d be. As she places in front of you what looks to be a copy of great expectations.

“Think you’ve mixed up the books Lya!” You laugh, giggling in amusement when you see her look at you with such disappointment.

“Course I haven’t idiot!” She sighs, moving to grab the book and remove the book cover, before showing you the back of it. Where much to your surprise, you find the blurb for a very different book. Called ‘Unbuttoning the CEO’. “I read it last week and thought it’d be perfect for you!”

You laugh at the title and place the secret cover back on, before placing it in your bag. You don’t bring the book up again the rest of the catch up convo, but at the end when the two of you have eaten your cakes, drunk your coffees and were saying your goodbyes, you made sure to let Lya know what you thought of the book when you read it.

When you get back home, you head to the bedroom first to see if Billy’s back or not. The bed you can see is unmade and ruffled, yet when you feel it you can tell it’s cold to the touch, telling you Billy left a while a go. You head to the living room and sit on the sofa with a small sigh, praying Billy didn’t decide to head to the pub before a job interview.

You’re still for a couple minutes trying to think of what to do to occupy your time while you wait for Billy, and your eyes can’t help but be drawn to your bag, where the book practically taunts you from inside it. Before you even know it, you’re curled up on the sofa with the book in your hand and your lip between your teeth.

Words blur as you read sentence after sentence, but your eyes certainly eagerly tune in when you get to the actual sex part, which wasn’t even very far in to be honest.

The ceo takes the assistant on his desk, and you can’t help but clench your legs together when you read about how later on the assistant helps the CEO to ‘destress’. You take a small break to make yourself a quick drink, and can’t help but find your mind drifting to the idea of you and Billy in those scenes, playing those characters. You can’t help but forget about even making any sort of drink as you imagine exactly how you could help Billy destress from the recent unfair influx of job rejections.

You eagerly get back to reading though, and by the time Billy comes back home around 5, stinking slightly of cheap lager, you’ve already finished the book twice and reread your favourite scenes about three times over.

“Hey baby!” You smile, making note on how Billy nuzzles his body into yours as much as he can as soon as he gets close enough. Your pretty little teddy bear… “How’d it go?”

“Said I weren’t what they were looking for…” He murmurs into the length of your neck, as you kiss the top of his head softly. “Another fucking failure to add to the list…”

“Don’t say that!” You firmly say, placing both your hands on the side of his face to force his eyes to meet yours. You hate the way he looks so broken in that moment. So beaten by the world that all you want to do in that moment is wrap your arms around him and keep him safe from everything and everyone. The assholes who hurt him hurt him good and deep, and if you could, you’d beat them to death yourself. Maybe even with your porn book that’d be a right sight you must admit… “You are fucking amazing! You’re my favourite person in the whole world and I will not have you bring yourself down! Do you understand me Billy Washington?”

He gulps, and for a second you swear you can see tears build up in his eyes before they’re quickly blinked away.

“I-I underhand darling. Thank you, for being there for me. For everything.” He says, before bringing you in for a hug. Practically crushing you with how hard his arms lock around your waist and his head stays tucked in the skin of your neck.

The two of you stay there for what feels like hours. Holding each other while the time goes by. The only reason the two of you even break away from each other is because your phone rings so loudly all of a sudden and shocks the two of you into remembering the situation at hand. You quickly move to switch your phone on silent, and yet your eyes somehow manage to drift to the book peeking out from behind a sofa cushion, and an idea makes it way through your mind.

“Hey Billy…” You begin, smirking when you see Billy’s usual shy persona breaking through his shell once more when he sees that smile of yours. “I wanna try something tonight…”

“What is it?” He asks, raising a brow and stepping back slightly when he sees the grin on your face.

“Just something I read recently. Wanna see how you’ll like it…” You purr, placing your hands on his shoulders and dragging him to the edge of the sofa, before pushing him slightly so he falls backwards with a small gasp. His eyes open wide as they stare at you with such awe and admiration that you can’t help but find yourself blushing slightly.

You slowly lower yourself between Billy’s legs, which seem to open as wide as they can automatically, and with innocent fluttering eyes, lay your head on the side on his leg.

“Can I please suck your cock sir?” You beg, a pout on your lips to mimic pure desperation as Billy practically seems to have a heart attack above you. He appears breathless as you spring this sudden fantasy upon him, and yet by the way you can see and feel his trousers move and strain with his quickly swelling cock, you can tell with certainty that he definitely seems to be enjoying this.

“Yes…” He eventually murmurs with a heavy breath. “You can suck my cock….”

“Thank you sir, I promise I won’t let you down!” You smile, moving your hands to undo his belt and shimmy down his trousers and his underwear. When Billy is left sitting naked before you, as he’d claimed to feel silly if he was sitting in just his shirt, you can’t even stop yourself from admiring your boyfriends erect cock that stands proudly before your face.

“Such a pretty cock sir…” You murmur, before opening your mouth and taking it in your mouth as far as you can before your nose hits the small soft patch of hair lying at the base of Billy’s cock.

You can hear him keen and whine above you, and you’re very sad you can’t see the way his eyes no doubt roll to the back of his head. You slowly move your head back and forth, keeping a steady pace that leaves Billy practically shaking and whining above you.

“Please….” You hear him beg. A noise you love more than anything, and yet at this moment it’s not what you want. You want him to feel in control for once. To know how much you worship him and adore him. To know that he has the ability to make you become so needy and desperate for him that you’ll do anything to please him. That is, with the right words of course.

“Please darling!” He continues, his whimpering so delightful to your ears that you almost throw your plan out the window so you could give him as many earth shattering orgasms as he deserves. But patience is a virtue, so you continue to suck at Billy’s cock in a leisurely pace. Drawing all sorts of noises from him that leaves your own lower half aching for a release.

“Take control of me Billy…” You eventually say, admittedly growing tired of the lack of communication between the both of you. “Take hold of me and do whatever you want to me sir…”

It seems your words finally made it into his pretty little head. Since as soon as you try and go back to putting your mouth on him after saying those words to him, you feel a strong hand wrap itself between the strands of your hair, atopping you from getting anymore closer to his cock than what you already are. It makes your pussy admittedly wetter as you’re now effectively eye level with Billy’s weeping member, and yet am unable to touch it at all. Forced to stare at it while it weeps a single drop his precum and watch while it trails down his erection. It’s absolute fucking torture.

“Please sir!” You find yourself begging, an actual pout on your lips as desperation claws up your whole body. “I wanna make you feel good sir! Wanna warm your cock in my mouth and feel your cum trickling down my throat!”

You can feel the grip his hands have on your hair tighten, and before you know it, Billy’s cock is hitting the back of your throat and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as your used like a pathetic fuck toy. You let your body go limp as you allow Billy to use you however he decides, yet he doesn’t seem to exactly have that part figured out yet, as he focuses on moaning and groaning about you like a porn star while he uses you to his current hearts content.

For a while, you almost find yourself unable to breathe. Gasping for air whenever the opportunity appeared. Yet still, you persist in your willingness, eager to see the usually so submissive man in front of you break.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum!” He groans, moaning as he further tightens his grip on you and forces you to work harder and faster on his cock. You moan wantonly and work your tongue harder as you feel his tip become drenched in a delicious mixture of both your spit and his precum, and feel his entire length throb under the weight of your efforts. It’s actually quite flattering really, seeing how fast he’s about to cum from your suggestions.

“Fuuuuuuck please swallow baby please please please!” He whines, that inner submissive of his still lingering as he holds your head down firmly on his cock while you feel his cum shoot down to the back of your throat, and practically choke you with how much you feel quickly filling your mouth. You cough slightly as you try and obey Billy by swallowing what you can, yet you can’t help but have a few drops of his essence flow down your cheek as you struggle swallowing the first few drops.

“Here you go baby…” Billy murmurs, using his fingers to pick up the stray dribbles and put them in front of your lips. Admittedly you feel quite bashful as you avoid his eyes while sucking the remaining taste of him off his fingers, but as soon as you finish, those same now spit covered fingers rest under your chin and force your head up so your eyes can meet.

A silent gasp releases under your breath as you see an uncharacteristic carefree yet somehow cocky smile on Billy’s face. That submissive man you saw not even five minutes ago gone as this new, changed man sits before you. Like some sort of strange sexual butterfly.

“You were a good girl for me.” He simply says, allowing you to bask in the feeling of his dominance that makes your legs weak at the knees. “And good girls if I’m right, get rewarded. You taught me that pretty girl. So please, get naked, and get on the bed for me arse up, so I can reward you for being so good for me.”

Fuck you’ve made a monster. A sexy one yes, but still a sexually dominant monster.

You do as Billy says to a T. Stripping yourself quickly so that your clothes are all over the bedroom floor, and placing your body on the bed in Billy’s desired position. You wait with bated breath for what feels like hours while your skin erupts in a multitude of goosebumps, and you swear you nearly jump out of your skin when you feel Billy’s warm skin suddenly against yours. You feel his half hard cock rubbing almost pitifully against your arse, and you realise with a very sick thrill that you can actually feel him getting harder the more your juices seem to coat him.

It seems though you were so caught up in your thoughts, that you miss the sounds of Billy’s own clumsy movements of stripping.

“So pretty…” He groans. A beautiful sound that leaves you wanting more more and more. How greedy of you… “You want to be fucked by me don’t you? By your boss?”

“Yes sir!” You whine, your head going dull as you stay focused only Billy’s body and nothing else. On the way he makes you feel so effortlessly, and without meaning. “Want you to make me yours! Want me to make sure everyone knows I only belong to you!”

You can hear Billy deeply grunt behind you, and with a gasp you don’t even at first realise belong to you, you feel Billy thrust his cock deep inside you. An intense feeling of fullness hitting you as you close your eyes and grip your hands desperately at the sheets in an attempt to ground yourself.

He gratefully allows you to get used to the sudden intrusion, but before you know it, Billy is quickly thrusting himself quickly in and out of you while you moan and keen for more beneath him. Your eyes screwing shut as your lower belly slowly tightens harder and harder.

“So good!” He groans, unexpectedly yet cautiously smacking your backside with his palm that causes an absolute pathetic sound to leave your lips. “My sweet little slut. All mine to fuck!”

An abundance of yeses comes quickly and brainlessly as you answer Billy’s statement with a high pitched moan. All you want right now is to cum. And by the way you can feel your cunt clenching and fluttering hard around Billy’s cock, you can guess it won’t be long before you do.

“Fuck sir I wanna cum please let me cum for you sir I’ve been so good!” You whine, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream as Billy somehow manages to move himself faster against you. The sound of his skin smacking at such a fast pace against your own to your ears sounding like an erotic symphony.

“Yes… you have been good…” Billy groans. His voice so strained it’s as if he’s struggling with all his strength to say them. “So you’ll continue to be good… by taking my fucking cum in your perfect cunt!”

You take that as your queue, and with a loud unwavering yell, you cum hard around Billy’s cock. Coaxing forth his own orgasm as he clutches hard at your skin and pushes himself as deep as he can to you. Moaning as you focus on the feeling of his hot cum filling you.

You can also feel his pubic hair stimulating your swollen clit, which leaves you silently gasping against the mattress and your aching pussy clenching against Billy’s softening cock.

The two of you stay where you are as you allow each other to breathe and calm down, yet it’s not long before the two of you are cuddling under the bed covers, with Billy’s cock still inside you.

“Did you like that baby?” You can’t help but murmur. Anxious on whether Billy was happy over you pushing him out of his usual comfort zone.

“It was different…” He summarises. You cannot see his face to make any assumptions. Given that your man has gone back to his roots by putting his head in the curve of your neck. “But I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

You may not be able to see it, but even so, your ego swells massively when you realise you can feel Billy’s bashful smile against your skin. It almost makes you want to have your wicked way with him again. That is though, before you realise with a warm feeling chest that Billy has steadily fallen asleep against you. With his softened cock still inside you, and your arms wrapped firmly around his body ensuring his safety.

“Sleep baby…” You murmur, kissing the top of his head with a smile. “You were such a good boy for me baby… we’ll see about rewarding you later….”

You may have imagined it, but you swear you can feel Billy smile against your skin. Yet you push the thought away and instead choose to close your eyes, and allow your own exhaustion to overcome you. You and Billy’s breaths and hearts synching as you hold each other with as much love as a sleeping person could handle.

#Billy Washington #trigger point #Billy Washington x reader #Billy Washington/reader #trigger point fanfiction #Billy Washington fanfiction #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell #ewanverse #ewan nation #my works #Billy Washington imagine

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yuyu1024 · 4 months

Text

Darling

Pairings: Seonghwa × y/n

Genre/tags: friends and more

Warning: 🔞🔞 smut/angst, cursing, sensual touching/making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, semi public, bj [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.2k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: likes and reblogs much appreciated ⭐️

Check pinned post for more✨️

****

Half asleep, you wake up early in the morning to force yourself to jog. You've been slacking with it for the past month already. School have really messed up your routine.

Before you go and get ready to wash your face up, you decided to go down the kitchen first to grab a glass or water and prepare the tumbler you will be carrying for the run.

It's still a bit dark and again, half asleep, that you didn't find it weird that when you entered the kitchen area, the lampshade near the dining table is on. So when a deep ass voice started speaking behind you, you almost dropped down on the floor and faint.

"Fuck!" You gasp as you finally see it was Seonghwa. "You scared the shit out of me." Your hands on your chest and trying to collect yourself

"I didn't mean to..." he say then leans his lower back on the island counter top. "You're up early." His arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm going for a run... need to release some stress..." you say as you open the fridge and grab a bottle of water. "You?"

"I'm horny." He spat, making you almost choke on the water your drinking

You wipe your mouth. "W-what did you say?!?"

He puts his index finger over his plump, rosy lips. "Sshh... they are still asleep."

He is pertaining to your brother, Wooyoung, and the other boys. Some is sleeping up stairs in Wooyoung's room while Yunho and probably San is sleeping in the guestroom downstairs since they were up all night playing video games.

It's the beginning of summer so they are all in your house, having some boys slumber party. And they will be here for a few more days.

"You guys drank a lot last night... why are you awake now?"

"Again....as I said..." he stands up straight and lips curved in a small smile. "I'm horny... if you don't get that... It means I want sex... I want to fuck... I want..." he's moving closer and closer to you until your back touches the fridge. "I want to eat you..."

Your bodies are close to each other that you could actually feel his hardness through his pajamas and yours.

"W-why... me?"

"C'mon darling..." he leans down to whisper, "you know why... you've been teasing me since yesterday..."

You blush at the thought. Yes. You actually did. Not gonna lie, maybe it's because you had a few drinks too but not to the point your drunk. It just became liquid courage for you.

You've been crushing on him for more than a year now. He's been friends with your brother for so long. But you have no idea where this crush actually began. You thought it was just nothing until it got solidified more than a year ago.

How can you not like Seonghwa? He's sweet, kind, caring, passionate and such a good friend and person in general. Plus he's good looking and smart. And probably, one thing you like about him too is his naughty side.

But this KIND of naughty, is new to you.

"Wearing a a fitted top and those tiny shorts of yours?" He tugs your hair behind your ear before he takes you by your chin and make you look at him. "And when we were playing games... you make sure I get to have a good view of your ass and then brushing your chest onto my arm purposely..." he leans in again, lips close to your ear. "Just thinking about it makes me hard and ready to burry my d!ck in your pu$sy."

Oh shit. Your knees weakened a little. He sound so fucking sexy.

"What do you say? Darling... should we try... if you could take my d!ck well?"

His eyes are burning. He's different from the Seonghwa you see often. This is intense. In a good way.

"Ahm..." your breathing is all over the place as his hands begins to roam around your body.

"Give me your consent, darling." He pushes his pelvis to you more. His fucking hard as rock. "I've been wanting to fuck you since last night... but the boys are night owls and I can't find the timing to pull you out of your bed."

You are shaking and excited at the same time.

"What do you want to do?"

He smirks devilishly. "I want to fuck that beautiful mouth of yours first... would you like to try?"

You suddenly got brave and cup his bulge. "Feed me." You tease before you tip toe and go for a kiss.

His eyes widens after the cute peck you gave him but then the warmth in his eyes changes to something dark.

"Go down on your knees." He orders

Your mouth goes dry. This is your first time doing something like this. You've dated a few boys but didn't got to this. Seonghwa is a man and you're not a little girl anymore too. Making out is just basic. This is more than basic.

Slowly pulling down his pajama pants down, you almost choked on nothing as you see it clearly and close up. The length. The veins. The redness. The leaking tip.

"Fuck." You hiss as you grab him using both hands. "Wow..." You quietly move forward and begin to taste him.

You tongue run from the bottom to the tip. Feeling those edges that are so freaking beautiful that makes you wonder how it will feel if he puts it inside of you.

"Ugh... ah... that's it... ahhh...holy shit..." Seonghwa is moaning, nonstop as you let your tongue play around his length. "Fuck! darling, I never knew... you'd be this..." he pauses as he felt the warmth of your mouth. "Ohhh yes..."

You bop your head, sucking and licking every bits of him making him crazy. You're making sure he'll be wanting more from you or if not, will never forget the service you've given him.

"Y/n!" He cries. He puts his hands on the fridge for support. "Damn it!"

He pulls you up from your knees and start to make out with you.

"Fuck!" He looks at you, eye to eye. "You're not wearing a bra?" His hand is on your right boob, squeezing. He could feel how turned on you are under the shirt you are wearing. The tip is very hard and pointy. "8 guys... 7... less Woo...in this house and you're not wearing... a fucking bra? Do you know how dangerous this is?"

You smile putting your arms around his neck. "Do you want me to put on a bra or you'd want to taste it?"

A wide devilish grin spread across his lips. "You one naughty little princess..." he licks his lower lips and grinds his exposed length to your still covered core. "You'd regret turning me on even more... coz' darling... I'd bet you can not go jogging after I'm finished with you."

"Give it a go then..." you glance at the wall clock in the kitchen. "We have less than a hour before sunrise... before my parents and the rest of the boys wake up..."

He growls at your challenge. "Alright then..." he adjusts your positions and making you face the countertop. "Bend over..." he orders "and make sure to keep quiet..."

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imaginecolby · 3 months

Text

Friends with Benefits || Part Six - The Scare

"y/n, i cannot believe you are still coming to work." your friend said to you as you were returning to your office after your lunch break.

"i used up so much of my PTO at christmas, i'm trying to accumulate some more so i can have some extra time for my maternity leave." you laughed as you sat back down at your desk.

"you're better than me. i would've been out of here as soon i could." they laughed. they returned to their desk, and you got back to work.

a few hours passed, and you were making your way through the day like normal. returning emails, making phone calls to clients, putting out fires in the department you oversaw. everything was going as well as you would've expected. until it wasn't.

all of a sudden, you felt the beginning of a contraction.

"oh no, mister man. it is too early for you to be coming." you groaned through gritted teeth. you coaxed yourself through the contraction, and is passed after about a minute. you went on about your day for another few hours, before you felt the pain return. you paced your office, which seemed to help contraction go away. after about the third or fourth occurrence, you figured you needed to call your doctor.

"i'd recommend you come in and be seen. i have an open appointment in twenty that you can take." your doctor said to you over the phone.

"perfect. i will be there." you said to them. you luckily were able to get a ride from a friend, and your doctor's office was only a few blocks from your job. you text colby while you were on your way, and let him know what was going on.

"i'm sure they're just braxton hicks, but my doctor just wants me to come in for some monitoring for a little bit. i'm on my way to the hospital now." your message read.

"i will be there as soon as i can." he replied. you pulled into the hospital parking lot, thanking your friend for the ride. you checked in and were immediately taken to a room. you waited just a few minutes before your doctor came in, explaining that they wanted to monitor your vitals, as well as your baby's.

after about twenty minutes, there was a knock on the door. you called for them to come in, and colby fell through the door.

"y/n! is everything okay?" he sighed, falling to the floor next to your bed.

"yes. everything is okay." you said, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "geez, did you run over here?" you teased, wiping his sweat from your hand.

"practically." he laughed awkwardly. just then, your doctor came back into the room.

"alright you two, or should i say three," they paused to take a seat. "everything is still as great as your last check up. baby boy is just getting a little impatient in there."

"are we at the point of bed rest yet?” you asked.

"not quite. i do recommend taking it easy, so you're not overly stressed. but not complete bed rest." they advised.

"okay. i can do that. work isn't too busy at the moment, so fingers crossed it stays that way." you said, rubbing your belly.

"perfect. let's get you set up to head home." your doctor said to you. you collected all of your things, got your discharge paperwork, and headed home. fortunately, your work day was almost done, so you didn't miss to much of your day.

you were in contact with your boss as soon as you got home to work out a plan for a lighter work load, and potentially starting your maternity leave sooner. they were fortunately very accommodating for your needs, it was lucky that you had such a good relationship with them.

once you got back to work, you were mainly working half days for the last month and a half leading up to your maternity leave. on your last day of work, your coworkers threw you a small baby shower for your last day.

“i cannot believe you all did this for me. this is all too much.” you said through tears, as you continued opening your gifts.

“you deserve it! we love you and we cant wait to meet your little one. we wish you and colby luck, and are sending you all the congratulations in the world.” one of them said to you.

“did i hear my name?” you heard a familiar voice ask. you turned and saw colby walking into the conference room where your festivities were being held.

“what are you doing here!?” you asked gleefully, getting up to walk greet him. you gave him a hug and pressed a quick to his lips.

“oh, you know i never miss a good party.” he teased. “no, f/n text me and told me you were gonna need some help carrying things to the car.” he said.

as the shower was winding down, colby began taking things to the car, meticulously packing everything as to not damage any of the gifts. you thanked your friends again, gathering up the leftover food to take home. you made your way out to the parking garage to meet colby, walking with a few of your friends, the ones that actually planned the event. you thanked them profusely again for the shower, and for all the gifts.

once you got home, you helped colby as much as you could with helping bringing in the gifts. once they were all inside, you began to unpack and clean up, placing them around your home in the places where they would be most used. you had so many blankets, clothes, toys and bottles. your baby was going to be well outfitted for his best life.

you stood in his nursery, which was finally all put together. colby had spent numerous hours in this room, putting together the crib, the dresser, and all the other furniture. he’d arranged it wonderfully, and you couldn’t believe how much this room had changed from your boring guest room. you stood there lost in thought for a while, before they were interrupted by colby’s voice.

“hey, there you are. you okay?” he asked, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.

“yeah,” you said softly. “now that im out of work, it’s really starting to set in. in a few weeks, we’re gonna have a baby.” you said, rubbing your belly.

“i still can’t wrap my mind around it. seeing you grow every day has been so mind blowing, and seeing how big he’s gotten on his ultrasounds. it’s been kinda crazy.” colby laughed, placing his hand on yours on your belly. “but im excited.”

“me too.” you said, smiling up at him. he kissed you softly before leaning down to press a kiss to your belly. you couldn’t believe you were coming up on the end of your pregnancy, but you really were excited. especially knowing that you had colby on your side. you made a great team, and you knew you were gonna raise a wonderful kid.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock imagines #colby brock x reader #fwb

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