#just tipping the brain out lads | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thegnomelord · 25 days

Note

ooohh I love the idea of alpha gaz actually. Especially with his dynamic with price because price is kind of like his role model sometimes and he's a much older and more experienced guy that's used to being in leadership positions. Gaz is younger and somewhat looks up to price and has never been in a position to tell other people what to do, so to have that flipped in the bedroom and have omega price and alpha gaz is not what most people would expect them to be. It makes their relationship more interesting. And gaz especially would be a good alpha because he's not a hothead and can keep control of himself more than most other alphas can. And I mean we've already had omega Gaz fics so it would be nice to switch it up this time (not if you don't want to. Just ideas)

Hm that's a good point and a cool dynamic idea too :Dd, as I'm not all that certain if I'm gonna even do abo so here's a quick experimental brain fart with Alpha Gaz/omega Price/alphaHound

CW:NSFW, this is more or less when Hound has mostly been rehabed and is more confident about intimacy. Not all too happy about it but it's a good enough example of how I'd incorporate the abo dynamic. Tell me what ya'll think lol

Price looks like he's run a marathon, huffing and puffing more than a racehorse as he settles in his nest. Of course his heat had to hit a whole 2 weeks earlier than it was supposed to, leading him to make a makeshift nest out of whatever he had in his closet and what the lads gave him. You'd think with him getting on in age his heats would slow down and lessen in intensity, but it seemed like his body was out to get him with his heats remaining the same as they had been when he first joined the military.

At least he's got two alphas able to help him through it.

Gaz doesn't have an overpowering scent like most alphas, but the smell of an omega in the first stages of heat will have any alpha's scent glands going into overdrive. The heady smell of nutmeg and beeswax spreads through the room, mixing with Price's own mint and blackberry scent that's been turned sweeter from his heat, as Kyle tentatively gets in the nest, fumbling with his belt like he's a teenager while he nuzzles his nose into Price's sweaty neck.

"Kyle I swear on the queen if you don't pick up the pace." Price hisses but the edge in his words are dulled by the soft purrs coming from his chest.

"Sorry sir," Kyle mumbles as he rubs his skin against Price's, somehow managing to end up between Price's spread legs, his fingers pushing into his slick hole. "I just- you smell so good."

"Eager whelp." You huff a small laugh as Price groans. Your own movements are slower, more measured, your scent muskier thanks to your age. You feel Kyle's hackles raise as you settle behind him, your body so, so much larger than his. But the low rumbling chuffs you make has him calming down just a bit, enough to not notice when your hand grips his wrist, two of your fingers sliding in along his and curling. "Move your hand like this, you'll get him wet in seconds."

Price moans as your curling fingers brush against the spongy spot inside him, his cock leaking a few drops of pre against his stomach. "As if you weren't the same." Price chuckles, holding Kyle by the scruff so he can pull him down into a sloppy kiss. "First time you helped Simon with his heat you barely lasted a minute before you shot your lil lads like a virgin."

Gaz doesn't know how either of you have enough sense in your heads left to think let alone talk when he feels like his brain is melting through his dick. Your scents curl in his nose and he whines, so hard it hurts him as he feels Price clench and relax around his fingers. He sobs his muffled 'thank you's into Price's neck when you deem Price prepped enough, a firm hand on his cock guiding him inside that tight heat.

Kyle's hips try to snap up to sheathe himself inside his omega on instinct, a low and pitiful grownly whine leaving him when you hold him steady with only his tip inside that tight heat.

"Go slow." You chastise him, one large hand on his hip to keep Gaz still while the other slides down to hold him by his knot. "Wouldn't want you to cum too soon, right?" When Kyle nods dumbly you slowly push on his hips until he's almost all the way inside Price, a small slap on his flank getting Kyle to rock his hips in a way you hope Price still likes.

"Lad- you-" Your name sounds like an angel's choir on Price's lips, his head falling back. Kyle takes that time to lay kisses and hickeys across his neck. "So good to me boys." Price slurs, eyes closing and enjoying the stretch of his walls around Kyle's cock, the pleasure and small hints of pain scratching that gnawing heat in his blood.

"Careful now Kyle," You hum and let go of his cock when he picks up the pace you want him to have, his ass grinding against your cock every time he pulls out to thrust back into Price. "I'll need to show you how to fuck properly if you lack the skills."

You can see why Price picked him to be the team's alpha. Most knotheaded whelps would have been up at arms for even the mere suggestion of taking a cock up the ass, yet by the sharpening of Kyle's scent you can he likes the idea.

"I wouldn't mind that." Kyle shoots back, and his surprising words get a pleased rumble out of you. "Yeah, you like that big man- fuck- hah-" the teasing list in his voice is lost as he moans, the smooth glide of his cock into Price and the lewd sound of omega slick squelching every time he moves making heat burn in his veins.

He shivers as your massive body presses further against his back, pinning him between you and Price and forcing his cock to go deeper with every thrust. "Good." You rumble against his neck, the cold metal plating your canines pressing against his skin as you gently nibble on his neck only working to further stoke the burning heat in his body. "Because I'm finding you lacking."

313 notes · View notes

jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months

Text

Met the Devil 2

lucifer x human!reader

sorry this took forever it’s been hectic i guess im in my fanfic writer era of madness happening and mentioning it in the a/n (im joking… unless) anyways lads hopefully this is okay womp womp

Part [1]

Based on devilish folklore and wives tales so lucifer may be ooc!

Warnings: BODYHORROR; DESCRIPTIONS OF TEETH FALLING OUT. Mentions of blood, reader dies a goofy ahh death, lucifer being an unsure wreck, and he’s got no game, reader is perpetually confused, inaccurate descriptions of religion, swearing, not proof read and i don’t entirely know where i’m going with this teehee lmk whatcha think xxx

word count: 3.1K

Three months, it had been three exhausting months since the incident with Lucifer. As if there was some devine intervention, everything seemed to fall at your feet working out for you, while also simultaneously sucking. Career wise, you were doing much better, after working for Marie and watching her house keeping it exactly how she wished, excluding the devil you had intercourse with, she put in a word for you at her and her husbands church, which you ended up getting.

Although not a very important role, it paid well. You were mostly in charge of cleanliness, cleaning the areas in the front where children played, keeping the holy fountain fresh, sweeping the pews and repairing any unbinded bibles. However the staff weren’t particularly fond of you, the nuns avoided you like the plague, and the priest gave you glares. Thankfully you rarely interacted with them if at all.

However, while your career was better than before, your physical health wasn’t. Things tanked once you slept with the devil. It started slow, noticing hues appear in your skin that you hadn’t before. Despite the various skin, and blood tests, and the general run down of different illnesses that cause changing pigmentation, there was no evidence to prove anything was truly wrong, just random hues of pinks, purples and blues showing up like you were some corpse.

The second minuet thing to change was your nails, at first you foolishly wondered if your calcium intake increased causing the thickness in your nails to double, but you quickly scrapped that al when your nails grew more rapidly. You really hadn’t changed much diet wise for that to be true, odd as it was it wasn’t something you hated.

The worst of it was teeth. One night you woke to a horrific splitting headache, it wasn’t just one part of your head either. The pain seared through your jaw, down your neck, up your face through your cheeks and in the back of your eyes all the way to the tip top of your head. You walked half asleep half dazed from pain to the bathroom, once the light blinded you and you got woken up a bit was when your brain registered the feeling.

Your mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood as you tuned into the sound of tapping in your mouth as the loose teeth collided. When you threw yourself over your sink spitting continuously, you immediately began to cry feeling your empty gums with your tongue, and the worst part was it seemed you had swallowed some too as the amount in the sink didn’t amount to how much was missing.

That night you must’ve passed out because you were woken up by your angry family member shouting at you to hurry. The strangest thing was, however you awoke with teeth, sharp as razors, and the porcelain sink that was never cleared of blood or teeth was now cleaned.

Since your teeth, you managed to not lose nor gain any other strange things, and the only people who didn’t seem to look past these oddities were the people who attended the church or worked at it. It was like they could tell you slept with Lucifer, something in their eyes always felt so intense and aware even if they’d never spoken to you before. The strangeness didn’t end with your appearance or career.

You had weird dreams you couldn’t explain, it felt so real but once awake you could only remember how you felt about the dream. You had close interactions with certain animals, like ducks, goats, crows, and insects as well. It was like they sought you out no matter where you were, people would give you looks when you started greeting the goat like an old friend.

So,now three months after Lucifer, you changed a lot. You know it’s because of him, you just can’t figure out why, but soon you’ll know. Walking into your work place on your day off, everybody’s least favourite thing to do, but it had to be done. You saw the father reading a bible off to the side of the room, and so you approached. He gave you a stern look, and you could tell by his stiff and shifty body language he wasn’t too happy with your presence, antsy to see what it is you wanted.

“Good afternoon father, how’re you?” You start, standing in a way you perfected prior to attempt to seem unthreatening. The priest hummed closing his bible to pay attention to you. “Good child, good. How’re you, is there something i could aid you in?” Straight to the point, mentally you cheered happy you didn’t have to waltz around small talk for fifteen minutes.

“Well i’m alright father, thank you. I was actually wondering about, um, the devil?” The priest's head lulls back slightly eyebrows raised as his mouth opens with a silent o. “Is there temptation in your life?” You shifted on your feet at the question. You hadn’t really thought of it before but you suppose you felt more inclined to act without thinking,and indulge especially after Lucifer claimed you.

“Well yes, but i was more so wondering on what the devil is capable of? Like making deals, and stuff…” You trail eyes casted away to the large sculpture of jesus on the wall. “Nothing, the devil isn’t as strong as gods love. And never in the bible does it state the devil makes deals, that is but a wives tale.” The priest spoke sternly, punctuating his words to get his point across.

This was news to you however, you always thought the devil was more of a a character in the bible. “Father one more question?” You say head snapping back to look at him. “If the devil were to have intercourse with a person, what’s said to be the outcome? Will god punish?” The poor priest looked like he’d seen a ghost, yet you couldn’t comprehend why. Although slightly morbid you didn’t think the question was that out there, perhaps it was the monotonous way you’d said it.

“I’m afraid i don’t have the answer to that,” And with that the priest stood, excusing himself from your conversation walking off down the isle. “I heard the devil picks somebody to carry the antichrist.” Turning to the voice, there sat a woman, old looking wearing a light blue dress. “The anti christ?” You repeat mostly to yourself, but the elderly woman hummed. “Yep. Woo’s the target, sleeps with them, and they give birth to the antichrist. Bad things happen once the child’s born.” The woman explained turning to look back at you.

“And, what if there’s no anti christ, what if the devil just like…” The old lady cackled looking at your puzzled face. She tsked and ushered you near. When in front of her she met your eyes, again with that weirdly all knowing look on them everyone in the church seemed to give you. Holding out her hand to you, you opened yours holding it out to her.

She placed something in your hand but you weren’t able to know what it was before you dropped it shrieking. It was like gripping a hot coal, you gripped your wrist keeled over trying to breath out the pain. Your eyes briefly glanced over to the floor where the object dropped and sitting there was a gold rosary covered in what was more than likely your blood. Peaking up from your bent over position the old woman had took several steps back from you, hand up to her mouth.

Not knowing what to do, you perked up, thanked her for her input, and sped out to the street. Just like the night you met him, the sky darkened and clashed with lightning, then came the rain. The devil himself must’ve worked through water with the way it was a constant anytime something happened.

Walking down the street at leisure, you inspected the wound the rosary left as rain pelted you like no tomorrow. You sighed brushing your thumb over the large cross shaped gash. Suddenly a crack of lightning came down brightly, it was harsh and so very bright. Then another crack, this time however you felt the harshest pain describable. It was like being lit on fire inside your body, or like your blood was suddenly filled with glass shards and you could feel them coursing through.

You couldn’t scream too in pain, you simply slumped to the floor, the searing pain engulfing your body. As your eyes closed, it felt like the floor was sucking you down, but you couldn’t move. You couldn’t even will your eyes to open as you felt the concrete below you begin to engulf you fully. Your lungs burnt as you couldn’t breathe, but like any other regular circumstance where you’d gasp for breath, you were physically unable to. Like you’re body didn’t know how to breath, so you sat there chest feeling tight, burning and your stomach feeling like it was forcing itself inward but nothing changed.

As torturous as it was, it was short lived and finally you felt freed. The concrete beneath you morphed into something softer cozier, the breathlessness left finally you were able to fill your lungs with air almost as refreshing as a glass of water would’ve been, and when you opened your eyes you were greeted by the sight of a bedroom. It was decorated with whites, reds and golds, around you could see engraved apples and ducks in not only the door frames and baseboards but some of the furniture as well.

You couldn’t will yourself to sit up, you still felt the fire on the inside of your body albeit gentler than before. “Hey cookie.” Cooed a smooth voice, you didn’t have to look to know who it was, but thankfully he stepped in front of you, kneeling down to your laying figure. “How you feeling?” You stared at his face, scanning it over and over, his eyes were hauntingly beautiful. The red irises danced around nervously, you watched intently as his forked tongue brushed against the dryness of his lips.

“You’re beautiful.” You mutter half muffled by the fact you sunk comfortably into the mattress that you lay on. Chuckling quietly the king of hell turned and sat on the side of the bed, petting your head very gently like you were made of glass. “Where am i?” His hand stuttered on your head, and finally you rolled over onto you back to gain the view of him. His hat discarded, his suit jacket gone, he sat only in a vest, dress shirt, and his white suit pants.

“Hell, sweetheart.” It was interesting how warmly he had said that to you, looking down at you with almost a pitying expression. “I’m dead?” You jerked up, immediately regretting it as the pain shot through your body from the top of your head down. Sucking in air through your teeth, clenching your eyes shut Lucifer cooed at you reprimanding you for being too quick. “God must’ve struck you down.” His voice lifted as he let out his attempt at a joke, but you weren’t really in the mood to laugh.

“What happened, with me when i was alive.” You ask looking over to him, the expression he had looked slightly guilty, his eyes casted downward, a frown that tried to be a poker face- but failed. “I, well y’see, heh,” Lucifer fumbled picking at his nails and looking around the room. He bounced himself against the mattress almost like he was amping himself up. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay! So y’know you got some human repellant, claws, sharp teeth, that dead look. Sent some little guardians after you! Too bad you couldn’t meet the snake.” Lucifer tisked mournfully shaking his head.

You smiled at him, oddly enough, it was quite endearing that he set out to do these things to keep you safe. “Oh!” He sprung up meeting your eyes properly. “I also made Marie get you that job, and I forced a good pay, always here to help y’know.” The king briefly pinched your cheek before retracting and standing. He looked frazzled, uncertain, he pulled at his clothes like he was trying to fix them. “Sorry it’s been awhile. Y’know i gave up going to earth in like 1850.” The devil laughed out, scratching the back of his neck.

You scooted yourself to the edge of the bed, Lucifer watching intently. “So, what, well I mean, why…?” You were confused head bobbing as you tried to make sense of everything. Things didn’t entirely add up this you were certain of, and you could tell the king was keeping something hidden from you. “As you know hell is well, it’s hell, and you were so…” He trailed off hands circling eachother as he gazed off into space, attempting to find the right words.

Deflating his body slumped over, in one foul swoop it looked as though he’d lost all the will to keep up his charade. “Look I didn’t think you were gonna shake my hand, but in the moment I was hooked on you. The night you took the apple reminded me of days of my life i can’t go back to. So i may have indulged, but i didn’t expect you to be soooo,”

Your eyebrows pinched together as you watched him with judgement, giving him a look that egged him on, yet warned him. “Captivating?” You ‘hmphed’ at his term, as weak and guilty grin overtaking his face. “Okay okay. I enjoyed our night, you gave me advice and helpful conversation I haven’t gotten in, pfft,” He was now pacing, eyes wide as his arms wrapped around himself as a way to secure him.

“Ever, you were a breath of fresh air! I didn’t expect the deal to go through! I didn’t expect you to grab my hand, so when you sold your soul you started to gain those devilish features. I wanted to make sure you were still safe so I manipulated Marie, got you the job, but nothing else was planned!” He exclaimed hands coming up in defence, although it wasn’t like you were angry, you sat there patiently watching him and waiting for him to finish his explanation at his own pace. Understanding this was probably just as stressful for him, if what he says is true.

Blowing out air the king pulled gently at his hair. “I don’t know what to do from here, I sent animals to protect you, I knew something would happen, damnit!” The short man raged eyes blowing up red, that snapped you up, gently you grabbed his shoulders. “I believe you, I have no idea what’s going on either so it’s okay! I’m terrified, but you don’t look any better. Maybe we can figure it out together?” You suggest attempting to be a voice of reason, watching his eyes hue from bright red to the yellow and red irises you’re more familiar with.

He sighed and nodded looking slightly embarrassed. “Do you think we could set some ground rules?” You quirked a brow at that, watching as he once again began to pace. “My daughter, Charlie, we spoke about her, she can’t know I made a deal with you! And for now, she can’t know i did anything sexual. Oh no no no. NO!” Lucifer panicked, switching between gripping his hair and swinging his arms around. It felt like a stab in the gut, it wasn’t your first time being a secret, but you wish you could’ve kept the promise you made to yourself about getting into another situation where you were just a secret fling.

“I’m not gonna pretend that doesn’t get under my skin slightly, I’d prefer not to be the devil's dirty secret, but I understand what Charlie means to you so I’ll do whatcha need.” Lucifer looked at you sheepishly, it seemed like he slightly regretted the choice of delivery as you crossed your arms across your chest, looking at him with a tinge of disgust in your eye. “Okay next, uh let's see, okay you’ll pose as my assistant and you’ll spend the days with me so I can keep an eye on ya….”

You quirk your head, pondering if you should say what you want to say. Which was questioning him and the motive here, it’s normal to say things you don’t always mean in such an intense moment of sex fueled emotion, but now there’s a big consequence and you’re not sure if he really knows what he wants to do. “Hey,” You say quietly grabbing him from his frantic mumbling that he was doing to himself. He hummed at you, his attention refocused on you as he did. “Do you at all regret the deal.”

Lucifers eyes blew wide, his lips puckering as his fingers fiddled with each other. “Regret is a very loaded work y’know- uh, I think- eh, maybe if- okay so,” He fumbled his wings popping out feathers flying around as they did, they puffed out with stress making you gawk. “Uhm, I wouldn't do it again if I had the choice! But still I would've wanted the sex!” Finally he pumped his chest proudly, meanwhile you rolled your eyes. “That’s what most men would do, yeah.” Your tone was bitter, catching him off guard a bit, to be fair he didn’t know what you wanted from him. Normally deals were two sided, but this one you benefited nothing from, except trauma and an early grave.

“I didn’t mean that,” Damn he really lost his way after Lilith huh, every flirtation came out so naturally but now it seemed it was so unsure, no king of a whole mini word of demons should be unsure, he mentally scolded himself for being so unfit.

“Listen can we figure this out later, I still feel the pain from when I died, so I would love to sleep that off.” You say plopping yourself back on the comfy mattress. “Yes, yes of course go ahead! We’ll figure this out together hm, shedevil? Won’t leave you in the dark!” This time his exclamation sounded certain as he jumped into the bed with you, snapping his fingers so the lights blinked out. You hummed too lazy to respond and crawled underneath the covers, it was nice, warm and smelt like him, underneath the covers you felt him slip in with you, his body heat emitting off of him in waves.

You hoped your mind was less clouded tomorrow, hopefully you could have a better conversation with the king about this deal, get things sorted out.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x you #lucifer morningstar x you

349 notes · View notes

beneathashadytree · 2 months

Text

BRAT - RAFAYEL QI X READER

Warnings : NSFW obviously, marking/bruises, somewhat rough sex, bratty sub!Rafayel, mean dom!reader, hair pulling, handjob, overstimulation, light choking, implied corruption kink, implied dacryphilia, one moment of nipple play, implied voice kink, mentions of masturbation, cum-eating, can be read as pegging or just regular sex because reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : nasty smut

Word count : 1.0K words of filth

Additional notes : I’d been waiting for LaDS to release globally for years, so forgive me for going feral over the men. Rafayel is part of the sassy man apocalypse but I would die for him. Also, I want him desperately.

Tip jar!

Masterlist

“I never said I liked this,” Rafayel managed to gasp out, though his half-hearted words were completely betrayed by his own body. His slightly-bruised hips pushed back onto them, practically begging them to push even deeper into him, and his hands fisted the sheets below him even harder, knuckles almost growing white as he tried to get a semblance of control.

Control that his darling would certainly not relinquish to him.

With a dark chuckle, they pressed their palm onto his sweat-slick back, keeping him still against the mattress. “Could’ve sworn I just felt you clenching around me, sweetheart.” Angling their hips a little, they drove their cock deeper into him, just to hit that spot that had him crying out their name and seeing stars.

A whimper escaped Rafayel’s lips, and with furiously flushing cheeks he buried his head into the pillow. They clicked their tongue in mock disappointment, a hand reaching out to sharply tug at his hair and pull him off the drool-stained pillow to turn his head to the side, pounding into him from behind as he moaned in desperation and pure shame. “Poor baby. You think you can hide your little sounds from me? That’s cute.”

“You’re awful,” he huffed out, still trying to put up a front when his thighs were shaking and barely able to hold him up, and his gaze that struggled to meet theirs was just as fucked out as his body seemed. “Really fucking awful.”

Arching their eyebrow, they wondered how long he’d deny how much he was enjoying this. His hole practically swallowed them back inside every time they began to pull out, their cock glistening as they slipped into him with an almost-pornographic slick sound. “Kind of hard to believe you actually think so when you’ve made a mess out of my bed.”

Their hand fell from his mussed hair to curl around his leaking cock against the mattress, beginning to fist him at a cruel pace. His pre-cum dribbled from his tip, and his hips jerked from the overstimulation. Taking him so roughly from behind and jerking him off simultaneously had him right where they wanted him; needy and wantonly writhing in their sheets.

Rafayel choked out a sob, his back arching as he tried to escape the burning ache of pleasure bordering on pain. How long had it been? Thirty, forty minutes so far? It was a miracle he’d stayed sane throughout it so far. No matter. It was always fun to see him brought to ruin. “F-fuck, ‘m not gonna last like this.” His voice trembled with every thrust of their cock inside him, dragging deliciously against his fluttering walls, telling of how close he was.

“Good. I want to see you fucked into oblivion. Maybe that’ll teach you a lesson or two to keep your mouth shut.” Their laughter in his ear was a dark promise, leaning in and pressing their weight ontop of him just like how they knew he liked it. His weeping tip made it so easy to fuck his cock even faster, their fingers feeling every vein and every ridge they’d memorized.

“Mm, ‘s too much—!”

Every inch of him was burned into their memory; framed into their mind as the picture of his wanton ruination seared itself into their brain. Rafayel was a beautiful man, there was no doubt about it—but for some wicked reason, they always found him most ethereal when he was marked all over his back and chest, tresses of hair messy, and eyes watery. When he was painted in the shades of his own arousal, he rivaled his biggest painting masterpieces.

The arm that had been holding them up snaked up his torso, two fingers teasingly pinching his nipple, earning a dragged out moan from his gaping mouth. Their light touches against his ever-so-sensitive torso had him pulling his lower lip between his teeth, trying to hold back his whines of annoyance at not giving him the instant release that he wants—an attempt they turned futile as they began to fuck faster into him, their unrelenting fisting of his angry red cock pulling a sudden cry from the back of his throat.

A knowing grin on their face, their hand finally found its resting place: curling around his throat in just the right places, with a slight dig of pressure. Both their hips flush against each other as they nestled into him as deep as they could, their other hand now making rough circles to the tip of his cock. His gasping breaths and shaking form almost stilled to a halt as they leaned their head right next to his ear. “Cum,” they whispered.

And the way Rafayel moaned and instantly spilled into their hand, like their word was a command he’d repeat in his head for days and have the filthiest dreams about, had to be the single most erotic thing they’d ever born witness to. Babbling rushed “thank you”s, “oh God”s, even one or two “feels so, so fucking good” and—their personal favorite—“love you, s’ so much”, he was the picture of obedience and submissiveness.

If they could file this moment away in their mind to revisit every time they’d pleasure themself in bed at night, thoughts of him muddling their brain and driving them insane with every time their fingers tried to take his place but never quite managed to, they would.

But all they could currently do was slow their thrusts to a halt, milking every last drop of cum from his cock as it jumped against his abdomen. ‘Adorable,’ they thought to themself, an amused expression on their face. Even after he shuddered and slumped against the mattress, they remained buried inside his warmth, addicted to the feeling of him around them, like they were made to fit inside him.

The heady scent of sex and sweat, along with him trying to even out his labored breathing as the dim lights of the room danced across his pretty, exhausted features—and oh, was he a sight to behold—were enough to have their core burning with the inferno of uncontrollable want. As they brought their hand up to their mouth and licked at his release, they hummed appreciatively at the taste of his raw pleasure.

“Maybe I’ll make it a habit of fucking the brattiness out of you.”

Taglist: —

258 notes · View notes

theywhowriteandknowthings · 1 month

Text

Boyfriend!Simon “Ghost” Riley x afab!reader Smutty (sweet) Drabble.

A/N: this has been rolling around in my head for weeks and it finally came together. Possessive Simon full one shot is on its way too. (Price is lingering in my periphery too 👀) enjoy!

NSFW under the cut: unprotected PiV (wrap it up folks) Public Sex, bathroom sex, degrading language, sweet!Simon. No use of Y/N, no physical descriptions of reader other than having a vagina, Simon can lift reader (but who *can’t* he lift?)

[AO3] CoD Masterlist

Boyfriend!Simon who has been out of the country for for two weeks, desperate to see you.

Boyfriend!Simon forgetting you promised to introduce him to your friends tonight, trying not to sulk as he desperately wanted to spend the weekend with you, confined to your shared bedroom.

Boyfriend!Simon promising you it’s ok, he wants to meet your friends. It’s important to you and nothing is more important than making you happy.

Boyfriend!Simon who can’t stop touching you under the table while your friends babble on about some reality show neither of you can stand. You’ve both been tuned out of the conversation for over an hour, so you welcome the distraction.

Boyfriend!Simon who inches his fingers up to the gusset of your panties, but stops just there so you clench your jaw (and cunt) in frustration as he edges your brains out.

Boyfriend!Simon who is grateful your friends didn’t even comment on his face mask when he turned up at the bar. Otherwise, they would be asking what’s so funny as he grins madly at the way you clamp your thighs around his hand in a desperate plea to either stop or touch you properly already.

Boyfriend!Simon who finally retreats his hand, only to place it on the back of your neck. Squeezing firmly, fingertips and thumb massaging gently either side of your neck as he brushes his knee against yours.

Boyfriend!Simon who excuses himself to the bathroom, eyes shining with mischief as he winks at you. Your friends immediately grill you over the brick-shit house of a man. Where did you meet? How fucking tall is he? Is it proportional?

Boyfriend!Simon who sends you a text from the bathroom, an image attached. You excuse yourself to the bathroom, opening it only when you lock the stall door behind you.

Boyfriend!Simon who’s cock is leaking precome as he pulls his foreskin back to reveal the swollen tip as he snaps a picture in the bathroom. He chuckles as he hears the bathroom door from across the way open and close.

Boyfriend!Simon who hears the bathroom door open once more, before you’re storming into the gents. Shouting at the drunk lad at the urinal to hurry the fuck up and get out. He kicks the stall door open, shit-eating grin plastered on his now-uncovered face as you lock it behind you as you slip inside.

Boyfriend!Simon who lifts you up in his strong arms, pinning you against the stall wall as he pulls the gusset of your panties aside. His throbbing tip notches at your core as you tremble in his grasp. “Such a naughty girl,�� he purrs as he pushes past your slick entrance, filling you to the brim with a low grunt.

Boyfriend!Simon who taunts you throughout, degrading you with every snap of his hips. “So needy. So desperate. My little slut.” His grip on your jaw hard enough to bruise as he turns your head to the side, “You like it, don’t you? Getting fucked like a whore in a bathroom stall like this?”

Boyfriend!Simon who nips your jaw in self-satisfied triumph as all you can do is mewl and nod as he builds you up to your release. “Touch yourself,” he commands as he starts fucking you in earnest. The fixtures and latch of the stall jangling loud in the small space as he forgoes any sense of stealth.

Boyfriend!Simon who comes with a groan of your name as he empties deep inside you, riding the high of your cunt clenching hard around him as you come, milking him dry.

Boyfriend!Simon who sets you down on the toilet, soothing your hair as he encourages you to pee, praising you for how well you took him. Promising to get you in a hot bath, and order takeout when you get home.

Boyfriend!Simon telling you he loves you, and you smiling up at him, head fuzzy and warm in post orgasmic bliss. You say it back, falling into his arms as you feel his spend leaking into your panties.

Boyfriend!Simon who endures the rest of the night, feral over knowing your panties are soaked with the evidence of your debauched behaviour, but managed to behave himself. Just.

Boyfriend!Simon who promises your friends to do this again sometime, but he needs to get you home. You’re exhausted and need some rest.

Boyfriend!Simon that doesn’t let you leave bed for the next few days, except to shower and relieve yourself in between fucking, cuddling, and binge watching that new series you’ve been waiting to watch together.

Boyfriend!Simon letting you fall asleep against his chest as he sits at an awkward angle against the pillows. Even though he knows his back is going to suffer from sleeping like this. But he doesn’t mind, time with you like this is fleeting, and he’ll be damned if he fucks this up.

Boyfriend!Simon who doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve you, but he’ll move heaven and earth if it means having more moments like this with you.

157 notes · View notes

burnthoneydrops · 9 months

Note

Could you do a fluff Jamie Tartt imagine where the reader takes care of a drunk Jamie who forgets that they've been dating for months and thinks they're back in their crush phase after they and the boys went out celebrating a win?

Drunk in the Back of the Car (j.t. x fem!reader)

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 654

warnings: language, alcohol

a/n: here you go love! i hope you like it and requests continue to be open!! (also first time writing for jamie so pls be kind lol)

The early 2000’s pop music blasting through the speakers was about to make your brain explode. The boys were celebrating a great victory in their match earlier that day and had all decided to crash this club that Colin had found. The flashing lights and sticky floors were slightly off-putting but the boys just wanted to celebrate and Jamie had insisted you came along too. Keeley and Roy were somewhere, probably at a table stuffed in a corner as Roy hated anyone spotting him. Isaac immediately bought a round of drinks upon entry and thus started the flow of alcohol. You were just glad that you and Jamie had agreed that you would drive home so he could properly celebrate.

Speaking of your boyfriend, he was nowhere to be seen. A group of you had been gathered in front of the bar, chatting and drinking and dancing- though somewhat badly- and then as the night aged on and people found different things that piqued their interests, the group dispersed into smaller groups across the club. You were clumped together with Colin and Sam, chatting about the opposing team from the earlier match, while Colin interspersed some lyrics from the rap songs that were playing overhead. While laughing at Colin doing this weird dance while rapping, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Your boyfriend is smashed,” Roy commented as he held Jamie under his arms. He was clearly having a hard time standing on his own and it seemed like Roy had dragged him from wherever they were previously stationed.

“I’m fine grandad,” Jamie retorted, though slurred and he clearly had to put a lot of thought into the short sentence.

“I’ll take him,” you smiled at Roy, silently thanking him for making sure Jamie got back to you. He nodded and passed Jamie over to you before he walked off, probably going back to find Keeley again. You grabbed one of Jamie’s arms and threw it over your shoulders, leaning his weight into you. “Looks like I’d better get this one home. Enjoy the rest of your night lads”. Sam and Colin say their goodbyes before going to find the other boys.

“Woah, you better be careful there. I’ve got a girlfriend and I don’t think she’d like you touching me like this,” Jamie tries to stand up straighter to get away from you, but almost immediately tips back over.

“I am your girlfriend,” you laugh.

“No way,” Jamie says quietly, in an ‘I can’t believe it’ type of way.

“Come on Jams, let’s get you home”.

Despite the copious amounts of effort it took to get Jamie through your front door- which included him almost throwing up in the back seat of your car- you finally got him in bed in a semi-comfortable position. Once you were sure he wasn’t going to throw up in the bed, at least long enough for you to get ready for bed, you headed to the bathroom to take your makeup off and change out of your clubbing outfit.

“Y/N?” You heard Jamie call from the bed.

“Yes love?” you question, sticking your head out of the bathroom doorway.

“How’d you get into my house?”

“I have a key Jams,” you laugh.

“Did I give you that?” He tilts his head.

“How sloshed did you get Jamie?” You move closer to him, sitting down next to him on the bed.

“Oh my god I’ve got Y/N in my bed,” he whispers more to himself.

“I’ve been sharing a bed with you for the past two months, love,” you remind him, moving his hair away from his sticky forehead.

“Holy shit, no way,” he mutters before passing out again. You laugh at his antics and go back to the bathroom, finishing your nighttime routine before grabbing some water and aspirin for the morning. You were so going to make fun of him tomorrow for this.

#jamie tartt #ted lasso fanfiction #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #ted lasso #roy kent #keeley jones #sam obisanya #jamie tartt imagines #jamie tartt fluff

469 notes · View notes

chiwhorei · 3 months

Text

ʜᴏᴡ ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟ’ꜱ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ . . . !

Notes: His Veiled Whispers card made me cwazy what can I say…

Tags: semi-public, face-fucking, no gendered terms, mean Zayne (LaDS) x reader

ᴀɴᴅ ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ could say that he isn’t trying to be, that he’s sorry, that he’ll try to be gentle, that he looses control when it come to you. But he’d be lying.

The grip he’s got on your hair is hard enough to pull at your scalp and pinch tears from your eyes. He’s unrelenting, pushing you farther into the closed door of his office with each thrust of his hips. It’s messy, tears and slobber covering your face and his thighs. He’d usually have more decorum than this. Than trapping you behind a shallow door with plenty of passersby on the other side. It’s the early afternoon for god’s sake. There’s bound to be plenty of chatter about the wet clicks and hiccups his colleagues heard from Dr. Zayne’s office in the middle of the work day.

“Please, I need— I need a second,” you gasp for air, pulling away from Zayne enough for his cock to drop from your lips and smack against his thigh. He tssks you, holding your head turned upwards by the front of your hair. Your breath is ragged, bottom lip jutting out and bruised from the unrelenting face-fuck.

“One.” Zayne says, and your teeth almost knock into his tip. He shoves his cock all the way back down your throat with one seamless movement. Your breath is stuck in your diaphragm, you sputter and cough against his perfectly trimmed pubes. You follow the sparse trail of black hair up towards his bellybutton, and meet the scrutinizing eyes of your primary care physician.

A smile crawls from one side of his lips to the other, Zayne bares his teeth when tears start rolling down your cheeks again. The hand not keeping you in place comes out to pinch your nose. The pain in your expression makes him want to flood your poor throat.

Zayne reaches down, he feels himself bulging under the pretty skin of your kiss-bitten neck. He squeezes just enough to feel the beginning of a useless scream as it bubbles from your soul.

His composure is stainless steel, rust proof and weather worn. He’s not going to let you up from your rug-burned knees until he’s fucked every last thought from your brain.

#zayne smut #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #lads x reader #lads smut #lads zayne #dr zayne

261 notes · View notes

auspicioustidings · 5 months

Text

Braw

Summary: Johnny eats you out in the bathroom of a cinema. Written upon request from an absolutely darling creature <3

Words: 700

CW: Smut, heavy gender play at work, both of them are into it

“There he is, ye going tae be good for me?”

You whined, high pitched and breathless and overwhelmed. Johnny never did things by halves, if he was eating you out he was going to keep going until you slipped away from your right mind and were completely drunk on pleasure.

This wasn't something you should be doing right at this moment in time. Your friends were only going to believe you had went for popcorn for so long before they realised you were in the cinema bathrooms with your cunt drooling on Johnny's mouth.

Absolute asshole fucking with your pronouns. He knew gender was a strange thing for you and knew he could use it to absolutely ruin you when you were all soft and gooey from his tongue or fingers or cock. Popped up on a sink with him greedily sucking and licking and kissing between your legs was already insanely erotic, but him deciding to fuck around with gender play was driving you insane.

“Braw lad aren't ye? Keeping me fed” he panted out, never actually leaving your cunt, just speaking against your messy folds as he continued to drool all over them. “Going tae eat ye alive, get ye so fucking hard and ready tae take me, fucking best boy, my best good boy.”

Christ alive, if arousal could grow you a cock to fuck him with you'd already be balls deep inside him. His tongue was all over the place, inside you, at your asshole, on your clit. You were yanking him by the hair and smashing his face into your cunt, too gone for him to care if he could breathe or not. Not that Johnny ever minded, when he got near your pussy he became an absolute animal, not caring about anything but eating you out.

He was rock hard and it was the second thing on his mind, overshadowed entirely by how much he fucking loved this, loved you. Fuck he wanted you to just tie him down and use his mouth for the rest of his life, wanted to just be a toy for you to use as you liked. It drove him wild that you could be his princess one day, his partner in crime another, and then you could show up to the cinema and his brain could short circuit because he could only think of you as daddy.

He whined a little thinking about getting fucked by you, wanting it so bad but knowing it would mean his mouth would be empty. He'd die if his tongue wasn't stuffed between your lips, wildly wriggling to try and get more of your arousal for him to swallow down. Only meal he ever needed.

“Fuck Johnny! Ah, come on baby, more” you moaned, rocking your hips in time with you moving his head.

It was almost impossible for him to talk now both because he was barely getting oxygen and because he was far too drunk on your cunt, your cock fucking his face, to really formulate coherent thoughts anymore.

“Want it, cum down my throat.”

It was muffled but you heard it and groaned lowly, thrusting your hips sharp and fast into his mouth.

“Don't spill any, gotta swallow Johnny,” you panted.

That really set him off, drooling sloppily all over you and sucking wetly at your puffy tip. You stuffed a hand in your mouth to muffle the scream as you came, using the other to keep him buried in you. Not that you needed to, he was clinging to your thighs, pulling himself in as hard as he could.

When you let his head go and he pulled back he was drenched, spit and cum running down his chin. You dragged your fingers through some and slid them into his mouth, he suckled eagerly. Fuck. Such a pretty little slut your Johnny.

When he had to grab some toilet paper to clean himself up, when you realised he had cum right in his underwear from eating you out? Fuck the movie, you were going home right the fuck now. He didn't argue.

#mhairiwrites #cod #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #hello beautiful creature get out of my tags <3

153 notes · View notes

loumybeloved · 3 months

Text

i’ve got a taste for you

-someone asked. i had to deliver in any way i could. takes place after Farleigh embarrassed him in karaoke, like imagine if Oliver stormed out instead.

(tags: shotgunning, weed is Smoked, making out??, 3rd person)

a/n: this is kinda short sorry, i’m not the best writer ever, so if u have any constructive criticism or suggestions for my writing i’d love to hear it! thank u :P

————————————————————

Oliver walked out to the backyard of the home, still embarrassed from the stunt Farleigh pulled inside from karaoke. His cheeks burn red as he plops down on a lawn chair, covering his face with his hands as he hears someone shout his name. He knows that voice anywhere.

“Oli! There you are, lad, are you okay?” Felix’s brow furrows in the way it does when he’s worried, the tips of the brow curling up a little. What a beautiful sight for the boy. Felix takes a seat next to him, not before pushing the other lawn chair closer to his.

“It’s embarrassing,” Oliver starts. “You know I don’t really feel that way about you guys, right?”

“Of course you don’t, Oli,” Felix falters a bit, making the smaller boy worry that he’s fucked everything up. Felix reaches into the back pocket of his trousers, pulling out a cigarette box and opens it. He pulls out a rolled cigarette.

No, a joint.

This makes Oliver gulp. He’s never smoked weed before, he knows Felix has before with his friends, he’s seen it happen.

“I was thinking, y’know, maybe you’d wanna let loose a little,” He smirks at Oliver’s nervous look as he eyes the joint. “I won’t force you, but the offers up.”

“No- I mean, yeah- yeah, I’d like to, um, smoke with you, I mean.” The other boy lets out a lighthearted chuckle at his shy nervousness. It’s so damn cute.

“Well, let’s spark up, shall we!” Felix claps his hands together with a big goofy grin spread on his face, pulling out a lighter and lighting the joint with the gentle orange flame. The smell instantly hits Oliver across the face, straight into his nostrils. Felix takes the first hit and passes it to Oliver.

He stares at the joint for a second and hesitantly takes it and puts it up to his mouth. The smoke billows inside his lungs, he blows the smoke out with a cough. Still coughing, he passes it back to Felix who has an amused look on his face. Then, it turns curious as he eyeballs the blunt between his nimble fingers.

“Do you know how to shotgun, Oli?” His eyes finally reach the smaller boy’s who has a look of surprise. “Y’know, like, the smoke?”

“Oh, um, no, i’ve never tried it,” He already feels the buzz rattling in his brain and with the way Felix takes the joint and puts it up to his lips and sucks in a big gust of smoke, he feels like it’s more than just a weed buzz.

“How about I teach you, yeah?” Felix now sits facing his friend, criss crossing his long legs. Their knees are touching and Oliver feels his face heat up again. How embarrassing that he is affected this badly just from a little contact, he feels almost ashamed to feel this way about his friend, but then Felix leans in close to Oliver’s face and his brain all of a sudden shuts off like a switch was flipped. Felix cradles his jaw lightly, examining the boy’s features then his wandering eyes land on his lips. Heat rises up again. Felix’s thumb gently presses on his bottom lip.

“Open, please.” He says in the quietest voice, like if he talks too loud the atmosphere will shatter into tiny pieces.

And Oliver does. He lets out a shaky breath as he slowly parts his plush lips. It happens almost quickly. Felix leans in and their lips brush slightly, sending shockwaves through their bodies like a cliché. Smoke fills up his mouth and he inhales every last drop just to make Felix proud of him for doing it right. Felix moves his face away from Oliver’s as he blows out the smoke, both of them stunned at the intimate moment.

“Did I do it right?” Oliver breaks the short silence with a whisper.

“Yeah,” Felix clears his throat. “I think you did perfect.”

Oliver smiles and then he gets an idea. “Can I try? On- on you, i mean?” Oliver swears he could he stars flashing before his eyes at the anticipation to be able to do it again.

“Of course you can, love.”

Oliver smiles a big smile and takes a hit off the blunt that’s now almost dying out. He moves his face close to Felix’s, mirroring what he did before. Cradling his jaw lightly and even examining the beautiful boy before him. And by God, was he beautiful. Felix parts his lips for Oliver and he leans in to blow the smoke into his mouth.

“Good job.” Oliver says in a light whisper and then he does it. He kisses Felix. He expects the boy to pull back, disgusted by his actions and tell him to leave and never come back.

He doesn’t though, he blows the smoke through his nose and presses his lips harder against Oliver’s. He feels on cloud nine, his lips taste of liquor and weed and Oliver absolutely relishes in it. He drinks up every last drop he can of Felix before this moment is gone. Their lips part and tongues glide against the other like they are thirsty for more. Felix is the first to pull away.

“That was..” He lifts his hand up to run it through his hair. “Electric.”

Oliver giggles like a boy in love, his thumb caressing the boy’s cheek. “Should we spark up another?”

Felix smiles a big goofy grin and pulls out his cigarette box for more.

#saltburn #cattonquick #felix catton x oliver quick #felix x oliver #felix catton #oliver quick #they r so gay #i hope you enjoy

63 notes · View notes

jamiesfootball · 6 months

Text

Okay I have treats I should be answering, but since I typed it all out anyways-

*rips open trench coat*

Here's the list of Jamie AUs I have puttering around in the brain:

-Jamie-is-Zava AU! In which Jamie never gets traded to Richmond. Instead he ends up at a different club, one that's meaner AND within driving distance of Manchester. Because this is Jamie, he never stops battling, and within three years he is an angry shell of the person but also an absolute killer as a striker. His relationship with his dad is also the worst its ever been. So the entire league is stunned - stunned! - when one Leslie Higgins runs into him in the bathroom during a match and jokingly says, "I don't supposed you'd ever want to play for a team like Richmond" and Jamie Tartt agrees! (Men really do be giving each other jobs in bathrooms)

-hockey Jamie! (this is based on nothing I just like hockey jerseys and ice skating)

-figure skater!girl!Jamie (based off someone’s previous post about a girl jamie getting pushed into it by her dad) Again, ice skates. outfits. but now also with music. Also Jamie being stuck in another high-control environment. Ough.

-bartender Jamie! He got injured in the academy and, well, bars are really the only other place his dad ever dragged him, so it was easy enough to get a job, wasn't it? And it's not like he doesn't get tipped well. He's a handsome lad and great at charming people (makes him uncomfortable sometimes when it's the older women flirting with him, but he doesn't like to think about that much)

-bartender Jamie again! This time with an accompanying Roy Kent who is also a bartender because neither of them 'made it out.' Roy is a tired, overworked line cook who has had it up to HERE with this new guy who works the front of house. Makes him want to spit in the guy's shift meal, but he'd never do that to the food (which he at least respects). And well, sometimes the guy looks a little desperate about the shift meal. Roy's been there - was there the whole time he was helping his sister with Phoebe while she was getting her nursing degree. Didn't mean he signed up to teach him to cook. But they did just lose another line cook. Fuck.

-lawyer jamie! He wants to make sure people like his dad don’t happen to other people. He brings a very Boston Legal energy to Roy's The Practice energy. Keeley is a paralegal. Rebecca owns the firm now. Ted is HR.

-criminal profiler Jamie! Going full Criminal Minds here people! Heavy on the themes, and the whole 'using your trauma to profile the unsub' thing, and the 'we don't profile each other (except for when we do)

-CSI Jamie! But it’s the fake CSI where they are borderline detectives and he keeps getting threatened/kidnapped. He is basically the Nick Stokes of the crew

-Rockstar Jamie! He got famous because of his face but he actually IS talented! But they won’t let him play any ‘real’ music and he has loads of anger he’d like to scream about thanks. He's always wanted to work with Roy Kent, but Roy's old band notoriously broke up in the messiest fucking manner and Roy's been working in a limited, behind the scenes fashion ever since (and fucking loathes the sort of music Jamie makes).

-Movie star Jamie! He’s a palatable actor, but what he secretly really wants to do is direct. Meanwhile former indie-darling director Roy who had a string of failures got low-balled into directing this run-of-the-mill drama. When the first actor dropped out without warning, Keeley called in a favor to get her somewhat-famous ex-boyfriend to star in it instead and he will not. stop. giving. Roy. notes.

-Bonus AU mentions:

-Jaeger pilot Jamie (Pacific Rim au)

-Hitter turned hacker Jamie (Leverage au - I have a whole tag for it)

-Dead Jamie (The Good Place au) - he is fairly sure he is not supposed to be in The Good Place and is white knuckling it so he doesn't get caught. Ted is Michael. Chaos ensues.

#this is the tippity tip of the iceberg #jamie tartt #ted lasso #AU masterlist #leverage au #pacific rim au #genderswap au

64 notes · View notes

etherealising · 12 days

Note

happy happy 1k yay!! idk if you still write for jaime tartt BUT i love the thought of him being obsessed with someone who works in the building… maybe the team’s pt and he’s always in their office with a “sore” knee or something like that but only so he can hang out and flirt with them 😫

bestie…the scream i scrumpt when i saw you in my inbox requesting my writing i damn near cried!!! but also the jamie tartt brainrot you awoke in me is insane, i went through a whole series rewatch and now i have jamie tartt edits saved 🫣. i struggled a bit to capture jamie’s essence/personality but otherwise i hope you enjoy my love 🫶🏽

this whole time i thought your pfp was bagels only to realize its a bunny 🥲

wanna be yours

pairing(s): jamie tartt x gn!reader

summary: jamie’s “bum” knee is the perfect excuse to spend whatever free time he can with you. it also doesn’t hurt that you’re his favorite person to flirt with.

warning(s): none

wc: 2.9k

Quiet hums filled the treatment room as you maneuvered around the space organizing and restocking low supplies. Your ears perked up at footsteps moving closer to the room. A knock on the open door followed shortly after, “Give me a minute.”

“Surely I can give you more than a minute.” The sound of a familiar heavy Manchurian accent caused the corner of your lips to tick up, eyes glancing down at your watch to see that your daily visitor was right on time.

Turning, you looked up to find Jamie leaning in the doorway, arms crossed against his chest, a cheesy smile on his face as he looked at you. “What can I do for you, Jamie?”

In recent weeks Jamie made it his mission to stop by your office and if he wasn’t spending his free time in your office picking your brain, then he was complaining to you in the treatment room about a mysterious knee issue that magically disappeared after every visit to you but somehow always returned the next day. In the beginning, you thought there was something seriously wrong with him, and you were sure you would lose your job if Richmond lost their star player because you couldn’t figure out what was wrong but as time passed you began to enjoy his little visits.

“It's me knee,” Jamie’s lips turned down into a pout as he walked fully into the room. “It's feelin’ all funny again.”

You nodded your head trying to tamp down your smile as you gestured for him to take a seat on the treatment table before grabbing a bottle of BioFreeze and rolling the stool over with you to sit. “Have you been doing the stretches I gave you?”

Jamie reached for your free hand pulling you towards him. Small laughs left you at the rolling sensation before he stopped you in front of him, easily settling his foot between your legs on the stool. “Of course I do love, they make me think of ya.” His finger reached out to boop the tip of your nose, a smug smile washing over his face as your nose scrunched up from the touch.

It felt childish the way the butterflies in your stomach fluttered at Jamie’s silly little antics, but you ignored it knowing just how cheeky the man could be. The room was quiet for a minute as you began massaging the cooling gel into Jamie’s knee, “You know I saw you at practice today-,”

“Trainin’.” Jamie clicked his tongue smiling as you rolled your eyes.

“Anyway, your knee seemed to be fine out on the pitch.” You emphasized the final word smiling at the over-dramatic wink Jamie sent your way.

He gave a slight wince as you added more pressure to his knee, you weren’t sure if he was actually sore or if he was just trying to sell whatever this bit was. “Well yeah babe, I can’t let the lads see me sufferin’.” He moved to lean back resting on his elbows.

You nodded pretending to understand what went on in Jamie’s head. “Maybe but I think it might be time to let Roy and Beard in on this injury,” you paused, glancing up to see the humor drain from Jamie’s face. “Might have to sit out a few games until we get this under control you know? Maybe the whole season if we can’t figure out the underlying cause.”

The silence caused you to look up your hands continuing their massage as you watched Jamie’s face pale, whatever thoughts going on behind those pretty brown eyes didn’t seem too happy. You felt a bit bad about your joke, but before you could clear the air, the sound of your name being shouted followed by the click of heels moving closer stole your attention.

“Oi sorry, didn’t realize you were busy, wow Jamie you look a bit ill everthin’ alright?” Keeley’s voice rang through the treatment room as she made her entrance, her petite frame eagerly hopping onto empty counter space.

You smiled at her as you finished up the ministrations on Jamie’s knee, “Oh you know he’s just coming to terms that this injury might be career-ending.” You looked up at Jamie waiting to see if he’d break. It took a couple of visits for you to finally clock that there wasn’t anything wrong with Jamie’s knee aside from his muscles needing their usual massage but other than that his visits were just periodic at this point.

“It breaks my heart to know ya don’t believe me?” Jamie’s voice was incredulous as he spoke, his foot lightly tapped your thigh where it still sat a small smirk playing on his lips.

Keeley was quiet as she watched the exchange between the two of you. A cheeky smile of her own decorated her face. For all the years she’d known Jamie she hadn’t seen him quite as smitten as he was with you. When you first expressed concern about Jamie’s constant visits and the stress you were under trying to diagnose his injury she was worried for the both of you, you for how overwhelmed you seemed, and Jamie for his mysterious knee injury. But then there were the few times she’d been with you when Jamie would pop into your office, at first she thought the two of you were just good friends but as she paid attention to Jamie’s flirtatious words and most times unnecessary touches she realized it was something more on Jamie’s end and slowly began piecing it all together, and what kind of friend would she be to the both of you if she didn’t move this train along.

“Oh! Well sorry to hear about your career Jamie, but I was just poppin’ in to steal our favorite doctor, we’ve got a shopping date!” Keeley bounced on the countertop excitement racing through her.

Jamie sat up at Keeley’s words, obviously interested in the turn of the conversation, “Awe Granddad takin’ you on a date?” He was the only one to laugh at his joke, your stern look caused his chuckles to quiet down.

Keeley rolled her eyes before finding Jamie’s, “No, it's for the gala. I talked Richmond’s favorite PT into making an appearance this year!” Her smile brightened as she stared directly into Jamie’s eyes though her question was directed at you, “Have you found a plus one yet?”

You tried not to cringe at Keeley’s words, as excited as you were about finally attending one of Richmond’s annual charity galas Keeley wouldn’t take no for an answer when you explained you were fine attending the event solo. You stood from the stool moving to return the gel back to its place and wash your hands.

“Why bring a guest when I could potentially arrive solo and leave with a lovely companion.” You turned to face both of them, a small smirk lining your lips as you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively.

Jamie’s disgusted scoff was drowned out by Keeley’s excited squeal; the woman catapulted off the countertop excitement radiating off of her as she jumped up and down and clapped excitedly. “You cheeky little shit I love it! Oh, ohh are we thinking a sleazy footballer or emotionally unavailable millionaire donating for a tax write-off?”

You laughed, Jamie’s disgusted scoff turned into a disgusted look as his eyes bounced between the two of you. “I dunno Dani is kinda top of my list, if that doesn’t work out I guess we’ll go from there.” It was subtle but you watched the way Keeley’s eyes flashed to Jamie before landing back on you giving a thumbs up.

“Rojas?” Jamie’s voice was incredulous as he looked at you, “He’s not even monogamous!” The disbelief on his face was palpable, eyes wide.

Keeley watched as you made your way over to Jamie patting his thigh before settling back on the stool, his hands fell to the sides of the stool spinning you around before pulling the wheeled chair as close to the table as possible his body bowing forward as his chin came to settle atop your head. Keeley felt physically ill as she tamped down the excitement trying to claw its way out of her body; the urge to squeal grew tenfold as she watched you move your head to rest against his shoulder, eyes staring up at Jamie as the man smiled down at you.

“Who said I was monogamous? It's good to try things at least once.” The movement of you shrugging moved Jamie’s arms that were settled around your shoulders, his smile transforming into a frown.

A scoff let him as one of his hands moved up to flick the tip of your nose “M’ just sayin’ I’d never need another if I had you.” You gave Jamie an exasperated look at his words if the man kept up this flirtatious banter you’d never know how to deal with mediocre men again.

Keeley covered her excited squeal with a false cough, “Shoot, I’ve uh gotta talk with Rebecca about some marketing things, you’ll be fine if we go shopping later right?” Keeley smiled eager to leave the two of you alone.

It took you a minute to look away from Jamie and find Keeley’s eyes sending her a warm understanding smile, “Of course, oh invite Rebecca yeah?”

Keeley nodded her head sending you a bright smile before looking at Jamie raising her eyebrows slightly silently trying to tell him to make his move. She refrained from rolling her eyes as the man wiggled his eyebrows back to her, any hope of him doing this on his own slowly dwindling.

You waved the woman off as she left before turning in Jamie’s arms and giving him a serious look, “So, you wanna tell me what’s going on with you?” Your fingers began unconsciously playing with the hem of his shorts eyes peering into his with concern. “I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me Jamie.”

“Ahh don’t worry your pretty little head.” His hand moved to gently tap two fingers against your forehead, “A little knee pain can’t keep me down, I’m Jamie fuckin’ Tartt.” A smug smile took over his face, a quiet laugh escaped him at the way you rolled your eyes.

You stared at him for a moment longer eyes tracing his face before landing on his smile, the urge to give him a smile of your own crept up on you. “Well, Jamie Tartt is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Mmm dunno love, kinda just like buggin’ ya.” You laughed as his hand reached for yours, admiring the few rings that decorated your fingers. “Feel like I make ya all nervous, it's a bit adorable.” He smiled widely up at you shamelessly lacing his fingers with yours.

It felt as though your brain short-circuited for a moment, you weren’t sure when the two of you became all touchy-feely and you hardly minded it, but this felt a bit too intimate as he smiled up at you, the palm of his hand fitted perfectly to yours.

“If we’re done here I have to go add this little visit to your medical file and maybe stop by the coach's office.” You stood up with a slight huff removing your hand from Jamie’s grip, foot gently pushing the rolling stool into the corner, “Make sure to close the door when you leave please, and try not to let a little knee pain ruin the rest of the great Jamie fuckin’ Tartt’s day.” There was a slight teasing undertone in your words as you gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder before taking your leave, needing a bit of space to figure out the thoughts running through your head.

Jamie sat still atop the treatment table, a small smile lining his lips as he watched you walk away. The tingling sensation your soft hand left behind in his made him feel like a giddy teenager all over again as he stood to take his leave.

You quickly finished updating the last medical file for the evening, checking the time on the phone to make sure you could stop at home for a shower before meeting Keeley and Rebecca for your shopping date. Moving around your office you gathered your few belongings before turning to head home, surprise jolted through you as you looked up to see Jamie standing in the doorway hand poised to knock.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, just wanted to see if you wanted to walk to the car park together?” Jamie raised his hands in innocence, he was changed out of his practice gear just as ready to retire for the day as you were.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You gave him a small smile trying to get your slightly erratic breathing under control as you grabbed your keys off the desk.

It was silent between the two of you as you exited your office, Jamie moving out of your way opting to lean against the wall as he watched you lock everything up. Thinking back to his words it wasn’t that Jamie made you nervous, he made you confused he was a flirtatious man by nature and while you didn’t mind the banter between the two of you and willfully fed into it, you were a bit wary of catching feelings for a man who was so secure in himself. Pair that with his profession and the lifestyle he lived you weren’t sure if this was just all fun and games between friends or something more.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Jamie bumped his shoulder against yours as the two of you began your journey, not finding any reason to move out of your personal space as you nodded in assent. “Is Rojas really top of your list?”

You let out a surprised laugh expecting the question to be anything but that, giving yourself a moment to think on the answer as you bid goodbye to the few people the two of you walked past. “I don’t actually have a list Jamie,” you paused, giving him a quiet thank you as he opened the door for you to exit. “But I don’t know, Dani seems like the easiest person to have a fun night with and then continue being my colleague like nothing happened.”

Jamie hummed at your words, the two of you stopping beside your car and leaning against it. “This may be a bit forward, but I for one think it’d be a true shame to only spend one night with you.” His eyes locked on yours, there was no sign of his signature smirk making an appearance as it usually did after one of his flirty remarks, his eyes were intense almost like he was staring through you, an underlying message hidden in their soft brown depths. The feel of his fingers reaching out to yours tickled in the cool evening air.

Being speechless sure wasn’t something you were used to, but as you stood in the carpark Jamie directly across from you his words lingering in the air, you weren’t sure there was anything you could say. His words held a heavy insinuation and you didn’t think you were brave enough at the moment to find out their actual meaning.

Your mouth opened and closed unsure of what to say, your brain not even close to doing its job properly. Jamie smiled as he watched you, fingers dancing across your palm as he took a step forward his free hand raised the forefinger of his knuckle tapped gently against your chin, “Like I said, a bit adorable.” He moved quicker than you could react, his fingers pinching your chin and turning your head slightly before his soft lips caressed the apple of your cheek.

“G’night Doc, I’ll do my stretches tonight and think of ya.” Jamie gave you a cheeky smile and wink before turning and making his way to his car.

The urge to scream was immediate as you watched him enter his car before getting into your own head falling against the steering wheel as you tried to balance the butterflies in your stomach with the confusion racing through your head.

Jamie sat in his car waiting for you to safely drive away. The large grin on his face wouldn’t be leaving him anytime soon, his days were always made better by making you smile with just his words. He watched as your car drove off, for a man with all the confidence in the world he wasn’t sure when he’d ever be ready enough to admit his feelings to you without making his words seem as though they were just flirty banter.

Jamie’s mind thought back to his first meeting with you all those years ago, you were one of the only people who wouldn’t put up with his arrogant attitude and now here he was all these years later hoping one day his cutesy words wouldn’t just be something you’d laugh off but instead believed in the same way you believed he was capable of being a better man.

a/n: y’all i love this man, down horrendous for this himbo.

#jamie tart x reader #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fanfiction

41 notes · View notes

little-murmaider · 2 months

Text

Hey lads it's been a while uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh have some Nategaar soft porn. This doc was named "Nategaargle These Balls."

Skwisgaar awakens to the weight of Nathan’s arm draped across his torso. Close-clipped nails graze a lazy loop across his abdomen. Skwisgaar stirs, comfortably pinned to Nathan’s chest. Warm breath puffs rhythmically against the back of his neck. “Good morning,” Nathan murmurs into his shoulder. Skwisgaar giggles, a shiver of pleasure skittering up his spine. Nathan shifts to press his lips to the space behind his ear. “Sleep well?” His hand drifts down, combing the soft down of Skwisgaar’s pubic hair. “Nathan,” he sighs.

Nathan murmurs, “shh,” and closes his hand around him. His thumb glides over the tip of the head, already slick with precum. Teeth sink into Skwisgaar’s earlobe and he arches involuntarily, his backside pressing into Nathan’s suspiciously still hips. The laugh that rumbles through the shell of Skwisgaar’s ear is fond but a little mean, and the combination makes Skwisgaar a little dizzy. At once the covers fly away and Skwisgaar is flipped onto his back, wet heat closing around him. He shudders, grips the sheets. Whites out, a little. Nathan pulls off, bites the inside of his thigh. “You close?” “Uh-huh.” Nathan readjusts, his lips brushing over the angular wedge of Skwisgaar’s hip bone. But instead of continuing, he lifts himself onto his elbows. He chuckles at the whine of displeasure that escapes Skwisgaar like helium from a party balloon, languidly crawling to the top of the bed and dropping beside him. “Hey.” His voice rolls at the bottom of his register. One hand cradles Skwisgaar’s cheek; his thumb strokes the skin beneath his eye, his fingers gripping around his jaw.

“I want you to look at me when you finish.” Skwisgaar knows Nathan has charisma. He stood beside him as he whipped crowds into a frenzy by the sheer force of his magnetism. But to see that power up close, and have it all exclusively focused on him—it’s mesmerizing. It’s like being swallowed by the sun.

Distantly he wonders if this is Nathan’s aim, if this is what truly gets him off. To make Skwisgaar look at him like one of his billions of starry-eyed fangirls. To know the spell works on someone who knows him as intimately as Skwisgaar does.

The embarrassing, mewling, desperate whimper Skwisgaar makes when he finishes is mercifully swallowed by Nathan’s kiss.

He loses himself in the kiss a little, feels bereft when Nathan pulls back but is immediately relieved when he sinks his thick fingers into his mouth. Skwisgaar tastes the salty sting of himself and watches Nathan obidiently, waits for permission to stop. Nathan hums, pleased and smug, and allows Skwisgaar to clean up.

After, Nathan holds him. “By the way,” he says, nudging his nose to the underside of Skwisgaar’s jaw, his fingers tracing patterns on the base of Skwisgaar’s spine. He’s being really tender (too tender a faint voice at the outeredges of Skwisgaar’s brain warns). “I deleted a bunch of tracks from the new album. They just weren’t brutal enough you know?” “Mm.” “I need you to re-record all of yours, Toki and Murderface’s parts. I’d ask them to do it but nobody can do it like you.” “Huh” “Also,” he presses his lips each of his closed eyelids. “Some dildo execs from the label are coming by tomorrow and they expect to hear a demo. So I need you to do this all today.” He trails his mouth down to find Skwisgaar’s. The kiss is languid and destabilizing. Skwisgaar melts. “Sound good?” Skwisgaar feels the mechanisms of Nathan’s trap closing in on him. He knows if he agrees to this, he’s giving Nathan the greenlight to pull this move every time he wants to dump the album. He’s saying that all it will take to get him to scrap months of dedicated, meticulous work and start from scratch is one knock-out blowjob. It will ruin his life. But in this moment he’s too deliriously happy to care. “Whatevers you says, baby.”

#metalocalypse #skwisgaar skwigelf #nathan explosion #nategaar #my fanfic

30 notes · View notes

player1064 · 1 month

Note

for the carraville prompts: jamie’s pov of your fic it’s just not what’s done, and him doing/saying increasingly gay things that fluster gary who thought he’d never have a chance with the straight boy

honestly I could write a full length fic of this I LOVE this idea but I am exercising restraint (read: i am too sleepy to keep writing but want to post it anyway) and cutting it off at 1.3k words. Jamie is so so annoying in this god bless xx

---

1996.

There’s a weird buzz in the air when Jamie arrives at Melwood in the morning, and not the usual frustration he’d expect the morning after the first team have lost a game. Everyone’s grouped in little huddles, hushed whispers that cut out when anyone else walks by, but the weirdest part by far is that everyone is holding a fucking newspaper.

He walks into the apprentice’s dressing room and snatches a paper out of one of the other lads’ hands. He turns straight to the back page, but there’s nothing particularly noteworthy there – United won the league, big fucking whoop – so he frowns and flips the paper back to the front page.

Jamie would normally dismiss anything The Sun prints as garbage, but a quick glance around the dressing room shows a few other papers scattered around, all with similar headlines. All with the same photo, printed to take up most of the page, full colour even on a weekday.

The Sun’s headline is not a particularly creative one, but is does get the point across quite succinctly: there, right above the grainy, dimly lit photograph, are the words GAY NEVILLE?

“Oh my fucking God,” he hears Michael whisper from behind him.

Gary Neville, right-back, Jamie’s brain helpfully supplies. Manchester United, 21 years old and already eight caps for England.

His next thought is: what a fucking idiot.

He doesn’t give a shit about the gay thing, not really – he did spend two years at boarding school, he knows what some of the boys got up to there. No, his issue is more that United have just won the league, and everyone knows in a few days they’ll be getting the double when they win the FA cup too. 21 years old, a starter for a team that’s about to make footballing history, a spot in the squad for this summer’s Euros, and the stupid prick’s just thrown it all away because he felt like getting off with someone at a club where anyone could see him.

Maybe he should ask his coaches about practicing in right-back. He has a funny feeling a spot’s about to open up on the England team.

2004.

“Not so brave now that yer boyfriend’s fucked off to Spain, are ye?”

Neville gives him a disinterested look from across the tunnel.

“Not my boyfriend,” he says flatly, rolling his eyes like he’s recited that line a thousand times before.

He probably has, actually. Jamie needs to come up with better insults, something more original. He’ll workshop some for next time.

Still, better to dig in on this one. “No, I s’pose he’s not now that he’s traded you in fer better things. Yer not exactly a Galactico.”

Neville’s expression is still blank but there’s a hint of fire behind his eyes, which tells Jamie that he’s on the right track, that if he pushes just a little bit more he’ll be able to tip him over the edge.

He sees Keane step out from his place at the front of the line, turn to Neville and mutter “d’you need me to –”

“Couldn’t give a fuck, he’s not worth worryin’ over,” Neville replies, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

There’s no time to say anything back, because the referee walks to the front of the tunnel and then it’s time to go start the game.

2006.

“How’s it work, then?”

Neville looks up from the bowl of Weetabix he’d been intently focused on and glances around the room, like he doesn’t believe it’s him Jamie’s talking to.

He shrugs. “How’s what work?”

“The gay thing. Did yous get to bring a WAG over too, or is that only for the normal lads?”

“Wouldn’t be a WAG, would it?” Neville mutters snobbishly.

He’s right, Jamie supposes. But that’s obviously not something he can admit, so he decides to lean in to the ‘stupid Scouser’ bit. “Why not?”

Neville squints at him suspiciously. “’cause he wouldn’t be a wife or girlfriend, would he?” He clears his throat, looks back down at his bowl. “If he existed, that is. Only brought my dad over for this tournament, does that answer your question?”

“Hmm,” Jamie says, ignoring the obvious cue to leave and taking a seat opposite Neville instead. “What would they call ‘im, if you weren’t a sad lonely old spinster… husbands and boyfriends… HABs? Doesn’t ‘ave quite the same ring to it, does it?”

2013.

“Why’d you never get married?”

Neville – Gary – looks up from his iPad to give Jamie his familiar ‘I can’t tell if you’re having me on or if you’re actually just stupid’ squint. “’s only been legal a few months, give us a break.”

“Civil partnered then, whatever. I don’t get it. You’re rich, you were a footballer. I know you’re ugly but looks don’t really factor into it, if your brother’s marriage is anythin’ to go by.”

Gary scowls at him. “Different measures of attractive when you’re gay. I’ll ‘ave you know men find me quite good looking, actually.”

“Do they fuck,” Jamie snorts, because he’s willing to bet that there isn’t a single man on Earth, gay or otherwise, who finds Gary Neville in his current state attractive. Maybe in his playing days, when he was all lean muscle and intense glares, but not now. “They’re just queuin’ up to get a piece a’yous, are they?”

“Maybe they are. Not that it’s any of your business, but I actually ‘ave a date tonight.”

“And that’s after he’s had a look at you?”

2015.

“Don’t go.”

Gary looks exhausted, pale skin and dark shadows under his eyes. His hair needs a trim, his stubble needs a shave, and he needs to not move to fucking Spain.

“Don’t look so stroppy, Carra. You’re about to become Sky’s number one pundit.”

“Don’t want it. C’mon, Gaz, what’m I gonna do for my Monday mornin’ entertainment without tales of your endless bad dates.”

“Most people just read the news.”

“What’re you gonna do, you’re bad enough at pullin’ as it is without a language barrier makin’ things harder. It’s like you want to spend the next five months celibate.”

“Yer awfully concerned about my personal life, James, for someone who not two weeks ago was tellin’ me that I needed to, and I quote, ‘spend less time thinkin’ about fit men and more on thinkin’ about fit footballers instead.’”

“And I stand by that.”

2016.

Jamie’s changing out of his gym clothes when his conversation with Gary earlier in the week echoes in his mind, the dreamy way Gary had said his arms…

The guy probably doesn’t even train as much as Jamie does, probably just exaggerates because for some reason he’s trying to impress Gary. As if Gary is someone you’d want to impress.

He stands in front of the changing room’s mirror and flexes his bicep, notes with pride the bulging vein that leads up from his elbow. It’s a shame, really, that he has to wear suits when he’s on Sky. He’s sure viewing figures would go up if he was allowed to wear something a little more form fitting, maybe he should pitch it to the wardrobe people.

Gary would probably have a fit, his tends to get in a tizz at the suggestion of any change to the strict set of rules he’s got in his head. Jamie had once tried to wear his suit without a tie (because he’d spilled coffee on the one he’d brought, not that he’d told Gary that), and Gary had screeched at him for a good half an hour about professionalism until he relented and went to wardrobe to find a spare tie he could use.

Imagine if he wore a t-shirt. Gary’s head would probably explode.

All the more reason to do it, really.

#jamie's love language is bullying. obviously.#carraville #drabbles #thanks for the prompt! sorry it took me so long to get to but I am slowly working my way through my inbox again

28 notes · View notes

anteroom-of-death · 3 months

Text

Teacher's Pet part 3

Synopsis: The Doctor struggles with morality. The student is struggling. Both are tearing themselves up.

A/n: I'm sorry for the bit of pain. The next one should be a bit more pain, but it will get better soon. Also. These things are fun to bang out. Especially when you listen to dramatic early 2000s nu metal. Thank you all. Your response to this mean the world to me.

Utterly ashamed and indecent, the Doctor remarked to himself once (y/n) fled the office. He felt utterly indecent. Ashamed. He was shocked that even he could hold such an array of thoughts. Not that he didn’t have similar thoughts before. He had been married before. To multiple people, multiple times. He was the reason why the Virgin Queen wasn’t really a Virgin.

But to a student? No, he couldn’t. Even though this was a charade, he still felt bound to at least some of the rules a professor should follow…

And the scenarios his mind was running? Much more akin to something that his dear best enemy, locked in her Vault would have.

He kicked her out for her own good. Her obvious tone shift and body language change had clued him in to the fact that she picked up on it. The girl was very good at making connections, it seemed. Maybe not getting them in a correct or orderly manner. But she was no idiot. Despite what her brain, past educators, and experts had probably told her.

He knew all about various so-called learning disabilities and some honestly just seemed like evolutionary differences to give the species different roles throughout the tribes and flocks.

Once, before Rose. Before he swore to himself that he would run solo forevermore. He held the idea, the hypothesis: to take a random person from a random planet. Mold their life and bend it to his will. Make a perfect companion. One noble enough to save the day, but not stupid and caring enough to get themselves killed in an act of bravery. Like so many if his past ones.

He shuddered, thanking Rose in Pete’s world for saving him from himself…

But this one? He felt oddly returned to this idea. A perfect companion. This time shaped by her own insecurities. Not preconditions he would control. He admitted he was lonely.

Nardole and Missy didn’t really count.

He stopped himself there. Maybe Missy was rubbing off on him. Getting him to pry back into those darker, more primal urges.

He needed a breath of fresh air. A trip off-planet.

Just Missy’s influence, he shook himself as he meandered down to the mess hall to get a bit of scran before a trip to somewhere. Nothing more, nothing less. Relapse in it's most basic indulgences.

He found himself at the Eye of Orion. Just exactly what the Doctor ordered! Peace and solace. Stop what was shaking him up at the source.

Too bad that he was being plagued by thoughts of (y/n).

She was possessing him.

Clever, nervous, just a hint of something else. She came to the meeting with some sparkly gunk crusted to her eye corners and the residuals of make up being slapped on in layers.

The way she quickly diverted the topic when her work was mentioned slightly irked him. She didn’t elaborate, just a missed appointment and a shocked tone.

What did she do?

Another mystery girl to lure him out of his shell. The universe, in all of its infinite wisdom, loved tossing mystery women at him.

They always frustrated him to arousal. A stupid trait he felt he got from his days crushing over Missy when they were young lads. Back when he shielded everyone from the Drums until they drove him to madness and self-corruption.

Corruption…

That stupid past plot of his past self echoed again. It might be fun. She might be fairly easy to tip into it on her own accord.

He decided against it. Ultimately.

Missy’s influence. Damn it!

He leaned back on the patch of grass he was on. Trying to clear his mind. She was just another daft ape. Just a student for him to inspire to help along the way.

But her grins and demeanor wouldn’t leave him.

Her hunched over form, and the clanging of her jewelry and the way she used her hands to speak…

Was doing something to him. Awakening something he tried to kill.

He relaxed for a while more before returning. Nardole, of course, was exasperated that he went away. Especially without telling him beforehand…

He hadn’t felt this frantic since he was locked in the Confession Dial.

Back in his office, he had a queue of students waiting for Office Hours. Mainly droll questions about the mid-term project. (Mandatory by the university.) The other students sat in her seat, where she had spilled crumbs on. He engaged them. And got a kick out of them and their findings and research. There were a good batch of students in his classes this term.

The Doctor found delight in them and the thoughts of (y/n) went to back-burner.

Then Tuesday came. One of the two days the class (y/n) was in was.

He groaned.

Hopefully today whatever was abnormal faded. Maybe she’d not come. Some sort of survival instinct will have kicked in…

Of course. He wasn’t so lucky. He remembered her scribbled maths equations about her monetary investment in university. He doubted that she’d go and waste the nearly eighty pounds a singular class was costing her. It seemed out of character.

He, in bad faith, wished her ill enough to take off.

Too bad the universe rarely responded well to bargaining.

She slunk in in between the masses of people. As if to go incognito, to not draw his attention. She removed her notebook and got a pen out and slouched forward. He scanned the room as he opened up with his exciting build-upon on Thursday’s lecture. A poem from Robert Burns that tangentially related to the themes. She wasn’t making eye contact, instead she was chewing on the chain of one of her many necklaces. This particular one was the chain that held a pendant with a historical symbol. She was scribbling furiously. Her eyes squinted and she seemed to be muttering a tad bit under her breath. He didn’t want to admit how much he wanted to pry in. To hear. To understand. To respond. To feel.

“And fare thee weel, my only luve! And fare thee weel awhile! And I will come again, my luve, Though it were ten thousand mile.” He finished and then went on with a remark.

“Does the universe love us? Does it owe us?And if it does, why?” He opened up to the floor to discussion and debate.

Many responded, except for (y/n), who obviously was holding her tongue and trying to not make eye contact with anyone. Just focused in on writing and listening.

He could carve out a response from her.

“Miss (y/n’s surname)? What do you think, I think Braelynne made a fantastic point. Come, join us.”

(Y/n) spat out the chain and straightened up her posture. She had pen ink on her chin and looked, quite frankly like she’d leak tears.

She sniffled before speaking, a crack in her voice. “I think it’d be narcissistic to assume that the universe owes us anything. But does it love us? Maybe. It loves itself through us. Like, like, like, when we do tasks like help an elderly neighbor carry their groceries in. Or give a few coins to a homeless person. It’s the universe loving itself. Maybe it’s like when you drink something probiotic. To the germs in your gut…aren’t you the entire universe? I don’t know. I do think that thinking you, out of all creation, prioritizing yourself in the center of it….uhhh. Red flag!” She flustered, grabbing her pen and resuming the furious scratching she was making.

That gave the Doctor a world of insight to her brain, inner workings. Maybe she felt like she was owed something but held some remorse over these thoughts. It seemed conflicting in her punctuation and how hard she seemed to force the words out. Wise, beyond wise, but also leaving herself a tad bit shortsighted and a decided lack of grace.

Obviously she didn’t want to speak. Obviously she had plenty to occupy her mind with at that moment.

So he pursued via others, “Is it narcissistic to expect something when, by (y/n)’s standards, we’re bacteria and microbes in a greater gut system?”

Someone replied that it was reductive and put humans on the same levels as non-sentient life. That they had greater purposes. That the microbes’ lives were less vital than a human life. (Y/n) scrunched her nose in disgust at such a statement. Internal dissent.

Ah, he thought, very good. A measure of her morals.

He built on that. He opened up the topic, getting more opinions from the other student. Hoping she’d speak up…

He noticed (y/n) shoving her things into her bag and sniffling again. Maybe he did get what he earlier asked the universe for. Maybe she was sick. Maybe.

Ironic.

She made a beeline for the door, “Sorry. I have…an emergency.” She turned to him at the door. “I’ll get the notes from someone.” She promised. Her chest was beginning to visibly heave.

He nodded and she shot out of the room like a horse out of a gate.

#personal #doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #12th doctor #12th doctor x reader #reader x 12th doctor #you x 12th doctor #12th doctor x you #self insert #teacher student #peter capaldi #slow burn #i am in pain #in good news im getting my meds upped again #in bad news i bruised both my knees real badly #but i can write these super easy and they make my life worth living so yaaayyy #love you all #i wrote this

22 notes · View notes

more-cardigan-than-woman · 1 year

Text

A Pirates Life

Summary: You're a pirate Captain and your never going to guess who your first mate just found in the hull.

PirateCaptain!Reader x Stowaway!JasonTodd

1.7k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, praise kink, sub jason, sex as an interrogation tool, teasing, biting, hair pulling, oral, restraints, swearing.

"Cap'n," Jones calls from behind you, "found this in the hull."

"Looks like you found a stowaway," Frenchie comments to your right.

"Right, let's get a look at ‘em," you turn from your perch on the hull. The two men carry an even bigger one on their shoulders, his light brown trench coat stretching over him, his hair sopping wet and dripping on the deck of the Sirens Call.

“Smells bloody rancid, mate,” Jones comments, before flopping him onto the deck. You step forward, your eyes not so wide they nearly fall out of your skull. Your brain starts to spin as it registers what you're seeing with every step closer. He was gone, you couldn't find any trace of him. How?

Drawing your sword, you point it at the man's chin, his face slowly drawing up with the blade, his eyes looking anywhere but you, seeming to stare up at Frenchie for some kind of help, but Frenchie laughs, knocking the man on the ground on the shoulder. "What's this?"

"Captain,” he moves forward, his hand reaching towards your skirts, “I can explain," Jason says, his eyes meeting yours for the first time in a year.

"Up," you snap the tip of your sword into his chin, watching as he stands on shaky feet, "Frenchie, Nak, bring him to my quarters," you smirk at the men, "this interrogation will require privacy."

"Yes, cap'n," they say in unison, the pirates sharing a knowing look. The last man that had a private meeting with you ended up so poorly that they had to scrub the blood from the planks, “Mate, on ya feet,” they shove him upwards, setting Jason's hands behind his back, and marching him towards your cabin.

“Close the door behind ya lads,” you instruct them after they've tied the young man to one of your dining chairs, “and if ya hear screaming-”

“No we didn't.”

“Good boys, off ya go,” you smirk, locking the door behind them and turning towards your stowaway who's watching you like a hawk, his hands tugging on the ropes, “Why are you here?”

“Didn't know this was your ship.”

“So, an accident ? Coincidence? Divine providence?”

“You going to kill me?” he stares defiantly up at you, something akin to hope shining in his eyes, “just do it.”

"There be no need for killing you," you perch up on the table beside him, laughing as he struggles against the coarse rope binding him to the chair, "and no need for a struggle Jason. Why don't you start with telling me why you left?"

"No."

"No? You know I hate that word," you dig the heel of your boot into his thigh, "why were you hiding on my ship?"

"I won't," he turns away, but you see how tightly his lips are pressed together. How badly he's fighting this, fighting you.

"Hiding won't help you," you grab his hair, yanking on it and turning him back to face you, "when did running ever help?"

"I can't."

"Do you want to stay on the Sirens Call?"

“Please.”

“That's a better word,” you smile, bending over to kiss gently on his forehead, “say it again,” you whisper into his still damp hair, the brine of the sea filling your lungs. He must’ve been down there since you left Metropolis.

“Please,” he whimpers, his eyes pleading with you and you hear him inhale sharply, “Please Captain.”

“And what will you do while you're here?” You recline back, grabbing your carved dagger from the table. “Everyone on the Sirens got a job, can’t afford freeloaders.”

“Serve.”

“Aye, but who do you serve?”

“My captain,” he stares up at you, his eyes not sure whether to focus on your knife, your tits, your cheek or your lips.

“Very well,” you slice into his shirt, cutting the worn fabric in two. You beam at him, his torso shines in the candlelight, “you can stay,” you hop down from the table your dagger still in hand, “bit if you run again,” slicing through the course leather of his pants leaving them in tatters as he sits most naked on the chair and you press the pointed tip into his thigh, “you won't want to see me again. Do you understand?”

“Yes Captain.”

“Good boy,” the dagger clatters as you release it. Your fingers grip into his thick thighs, his hair brushing right under your nails as they drift up his leg. You watch his face, the harsh rise and fall of his broad chest, taking in the fresh scars that seem to have covered him since you parted. Your mouth starts to water when you finally reach your prize, his girthy cock throbbing for you already. It's only been a year since he disappeared. Disappeared is probably the wrong word, but as you lick your lips all you can think is that it feels like an eternity that you searched for him, even after he abandoned you.

“Please,” Jason's hips rise, his movements almost frenzied, but Jones secured him well and good and there's no getting out of those binds, sept for cutting, “Please captain,” he begs when your teeth bite into the supple flesh of his thighs, “Fuck, captain, I- “Jason moans pitiful and agonised, when your hand wraps around his cock.

“Yes, baby?” you tease him, licking your way up his thigh, your tongue lathing at the sweat in the crease of his thighs, “tell your captain what you need.”

“Your mouth, please,” his hands strain against the binds, his fingers trying too hard to reach out for you, “captain,” his voice breaks as he starts to wail.

“This mouth?” You mock, breathing over the tip of his achingly hard cock. “The mouth you abandoned,” your tongue darts out slipping at the droplets forming at the end of him, “that was almost marooned,” your nails dig into his thighs as you rise on your knees, “that though you dead for a year,” you feel his blood start to trickle down your fingertips, “that mouth?”

“Yes, my captain,” he pleads, like the pitiful boy he is, “I'm sorry, for all of it,” his cock twists as your mouth grows closer, and your lips nearly brush over him, “it wasn't my plan, I- I'm sorry.”

“Good boy,” you praise him, mouth closing over his tip, your tongue flicking over his slit and your hand starts to stroke the base. Fuck, he’s so big you can’t fit much more of him in your mouth. You can’t help but moan around him, his taste so perfect. The sight of his strong legs shaking, makes your pussy drip and your tongue push even harder up into him.

“Captain, ohhhh-” he moans, pushing his cock further into your mouth, “fuck, I, please,” his cock throbs as you take him deeper and deeper in your mouth, “feels so good,” you swallow him as deep as you can, his cock pressing down your throat as you start to choke, “yes, deeper,” he pleads, his knuckles turning white as he grips the sides of the chair, “can I feel you? Please Captain, I wanna feel your insides,” he starts to squirm as you slow your place leaving him teetering on the edge of cumming, “I- I wanna make you feel like this.”

You peer up at him, the devil sparkling in the corner of your eye when you see visible anguish on his face as you draw him from your mouth, “Do you remember now?

“Yes, I could never forget,” he glances down at you, his eyes drinking in your body, “Can I see you?” His voice soft and a slightly higher pitch than normal, a drunken smile on his face when he sees you raise an eyebrow at him, “Please can I see you my Captain.”

“No.”

“Please, haven't I been good?” Jason pouts at you, his teeth biting at the back of his soft lips, “I can be so good for you.”

“You will be good, Jason," your legs spread over those thick thighs, sliding them down towards the back of the chair, your ass resting almost on his knees. You notice his eyes trying to catch a glimpse of you, tutting at him, you fan your skirt out, blocking his view completely, "you need to learn," you grind your clit into his throbbing cock, "you're going to learn."

"Please fuck me," he begs, his eyes pleading so desperately into yours, while his chest heaves into the front of you, "I want to make you cum, Captain. Please allow me."

"You will," you rise, slipping your soaking pussy over his rock hard cock inside you, his sizable girth spreading you open as you engulf him. Your hands grip into his shoulders as you begin to grind down on him, "stay still," you moan, your clit hitting his stomach with every forward movement.

“Can I move Captain?” Jason’s long lashes flutter and you feel his thighs flex beneath you.

“No baby, stay still.”

“You feel so good.”

"As do you,” you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, moving your face closer to his, “you're being so good for me."

"Thank you, Captain.” his biceps flex, the ropes straining to keep him contained, “You're so full of me,” you can see how hard he’s trying to stay still and it only makes you want to push him further, “your pussy is clinging to me."

"Fuck, feels so fucking good." Your fingers twine into his hair, pulling his head back and exposing his neck, "my best boy," your teeth sink into his neck, "maybe this will remind you who you belong to," you lick at the bruise, "not that you could ever forget."

"Never," he moans into your ear, you can feel his legs shaking underneath you, "fuck I wanna cum, Captain."

"No," you command, your voice ringing clear, your tone still sultry and panting "tell me why you're on my ship."

"Really right now?"

"Yes, Jason," you slam your hips into his, fucking him so hard his eyes start to roll back into his head, "why are you here?" you do it again.

"Someones after me." He pants, trying to hard to fuck up into you.

"Why?"

"I didn’t do what they wanted," his hands strained on the chair, "It was-," he pauses, seeming to find a thought in his head. “They asked too much.”

“What did they want Jason?” you start to pull yourself off him, “If you don’t want to I could always stop.”

“No, no-” he begs, his eyes almost brought to tears, “Same reason I left, left you on that island.”

“Which is?”

“You.”

"Silly boy," you start to move again, unsure if you're quite ready to hear the rest of that explanation just yet, "did you know this was my ship?"

"I-" he squeezes his eyes shut, until your hand tugs on his hair and forces them open and you raise your brows at him, "yes."

'Good boy,'' you moan moving faster, slamming your pussy over his cock as your insides start to swirl and you feel that pressure on your clit grow tingly, "Such a good boy," you moan, arching your back and pressing your chest into his face, "I'll keep you safe. Fuck."

"Yes, Captain, please," Jason begs, "please I need your cum, I needed it for so long."

"I fucking-" you bite down on your lip to keep the screams in as you start to shake and your pussy clenches so hard on Jason’s cock, "cum, cum for me." You command him through shaky breaths and he releases his flood into you and it fills you over and over, his cum pools down out and around his cock and onto his thighs.

"Captain," he breathes, panting, "can you untie me?"

"No dear," you smile at him, "you need more interrogating."

“I was telling the truth you know,” he sighs, resting his forehead into your breasts.

“I believe you, but I don’t understand.”

“Bruce.”

“That stuck up prick, what has he got against me?”

“He wanted me to bring you in, punished me and when the Shadow pirates got their hands on me- I just did everything I could to keep you safe, Captain.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t find you,” you reach over to your dagger freeing his hands and they immediately wrap around you, hugging you so close you feel like you're wearing a corset.

“I’m so sorry, Captain. I should’ve told you, should’ve-” he's cut off as a wave crashes into the port side of the ship sending you both flying across the room. When the world rights itself you see the chair in tatters and Jason laying on the ground.

"Fucking waves. Have you been harmed?" You ask, rushing to his side and checking for any markings you didn't leave. Only finding new scars you’d noticed in the heat of the moment, "who did this to you?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Was it her?” the ship rocks again and Jason tumbles back onto his but, “We can discuss that later," you give him a hand getting up. Your sea legs seemingly a lot sturdier than his, "all hands on deck."

"I'm naked."

"Your clothes are in the chest, put them on and meet me at the stern."

"You kept them?' He calls as you reach the door.

"Yes, your mine," you give him a knowing smile as you identify the door, "I hoped you'd find your way back to me."

Part 2- He's the pirate.

AN: Not doing a taglist today because im still not very well.

#jason todd fanfic #reader x jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #PIrate!Au #Jason todd

142 notes · View notes