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#like 'yep we touched her'
grandmaster-anne · 2 years
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Christening of Charles Armstrong-Jones
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cuteteacakes · 9 months
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It's super weird when a really old friend contacts you out of the blue and you haven't heard from her since she moved years ago :0c
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sugume · 3 months
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SNAPING AT THEIR KIDS — Jujutsu Kaisen
( CW ) f!reader, children, tantrums, lots of tears  
FEATURING: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo 
Authors note: the way Choso’s son refuses to eat dinner when you all sit down, he just huffs and puffs and you eventually have to give in and buy him Taco Bell, so he doesn’t go to sleep on an empty stomach. And Gojo’s son knew what he was doing when he hit him hehe. 
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☾GOJO SATORU 
“Daddy, I wanna go to the park.” His twins yell for what feels like the thousandth time today. Satoru whines, throwing his arm over his eyes when one of the twins points flashlights in his face. “I said no, Daddy doesn’t feel well today—we can play in your room, how about we build a fort?” Satoru answers again—just like he did the last time and the time before and the time before that. “No Daddy! Wanna go to ‘park!” His girl screams before his son hits him square in the dick with the flashlight. He jumps up, howling in pain. “I said not today!” He snaps and instantly regrets it when he hears the venom in his voice. How holds his throbbing dick before looking up and his babies. They both stare at him with frowns. His little girl looks about ready to start sobbing and his son looks like he wants to hit him with the flashlight again. “Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to yell,” He apologizes, flinching back when little tears slip out their eyes. “I’m sorry, I'm sorry, don’t cry. How ‘bout we go to the park okay? Daddy didn’t mean to yell, oh don’t cry, baby.” He whispers, reaching out with big hands to grab them and pull them into his lap. “Park?” “Yep, park.” They look at each other before breaking out in a scream. 
☾GETO SUGURU 
“Daddy?” His daughter pulls the end of his long hair. “I'm busy, baby.” He answers as he scrolls through his emails on his work computer. “Wanna see.” She whines, trying to climb onto her father’s lap. She just slides off, unable to pull her body weight up with small arms. “In a little bit, go play with Mommy baby,” he says, trying to convince his daughter who just huffs and holds her arms up to him. “I wanna work too!” She whines and Suguru grumbles before lifting her onto his lap. He sets her in the nook of her arm. She snuggles into Suguru's content for a few minutes. “My turn Daddy.” She stands up on his lap and reaches over to touch the computer. She fails, instead pushing the cup of water he had been slipping on. The cup tilts over and pours all over Suguru’s computer. “Dammit D/n!” He growls out and though he doesn't yell his deep voice is enough to cause his daughter to jump in fear. “Sorry, ’m sorry.” She cries, trying to crawl out of her father's lap. “Shit--It’s alright baby. Hey, it’s okay sweet girl.” “I didn’t mean to.” “I know. Let’s clean up our mess, okay?” He kisses his daughter's forehead and carries her to grab a towel. 
☾CHOSO KAMO 
“I don’t want your ugly food.” His son screams at him. “Well, you aren’t getting Fast food.” He mutters. “I want Taco Bell!” He screams, but Choso just ignores him and continues to stir the food. “I said I want Taco Bell!” He throws himself on the floor, kicking and rolling around Choso’s legs. Choso tries to ignore the temper tantrum his son is throwing but after several minutes it starts to get unbearable. Anything he says just goes in one ear and out the other. “No Fast food!” He eventually snaps. S/n immediately stops rolling on the floor when he hears his father yell. Choso turns the stove on low before walking over and crouching in front of his son. “Daddy doesn’t wanna yell baby, but you gotta understand that you can’t get Fast food every day. It’s not healthy for you alright?” He explains to his son. His son just glares up at him. Choso smiles back which prompts the little boy to grumble how stupid and ugly his father looks. When they eventually come to an understanding, he picks him up and lets him help him cook.  
☾NANAMI KENTO 
Nanami’s loud voice echoes through the living room, and you race to the living room in worry. Once you turn the corner you see your daughter looking at him with wide tear-filled eyes. She’s never seen this side of her dad; you can’t think of one time her dad raised his voice at her. “Kento? What’s going on?” You glare at him as your daughter comes running into you. You hold her little body to you. Kento stands there with a shocked expression on his face. He didn’t mean to snap at his little girl, he just had a bad day at the office and brought that attitude home. “Daddy’s mean.” Your daughter cries out, wrapping her small arms tighter around your legs. “Princess,” Kento whispers as he cautiously walks towards you two. “I didn’t mean to yell at you princess, I’m so sorry.” He chokes out, crouching down to her level. When she hears the familiar softness in her dad’s voice, she slowly peaks around you. Kento holds his arms open. She doesn’t hesitate and jumps into her father's arms. “s’ok I forgive you, Daddy.” She sniffles into his neck. Nanami squeezes her tightly, whispering out apologies on how he’ll never do it again. You can tell by the look in his eyes your daughter will be getting extra spoiled in the next few days.  
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evilminji · 25 days
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Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>
Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?
He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.
What're you? A cop?
Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.
Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.
But see, here's the THING.
The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...
Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.
There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)
He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!
Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.
That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.
Poisonous, though.
They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.
Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!
Who's Coffee Is This?
Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!
You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.
He's shouting.
People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.
Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!
He TACKLES the man of steel.
RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!
And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.
He'll move in a moment.
When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.
The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.
They never do.
And now he's nearly killed Superman.
@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles
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monicahar · 1 year
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“what are you doing?”
you comically cower behind his back even further.
“hiding.”
“...why?”
“because there's a flipping lion in the room with us, JING YUAN. that's what.” you snap back angrily.
if you're wondering how you got into this predicament—it's not that far from being akin to a kidnapper leading on a child with sweets and delicacies.
under the guise of work and a few promised cuddles, he had made you follow his steps into his home—now with you glued to his body like it's your own lifeline. the snow-white lion snugly lies down by the only exit of the room you're both occupying—having just introduced herself when it came to jing yuan for a few pets, scaring the bejeebers out of you when its fur had grazed the back of your thighs all of a sudden.
the lion only shows confusion yet complies when jing yuan coaxed her to go away for a few moments. in other words—for you to take a breather.
in response to your much evident suffering and growing impatience, a mirthful laugh escapes him, craning his head to look at you over his shoulder to throw you a small mischievous grin “it's just my cat. i don't see the problem.”
“that's fully grown lion, you scoundrel!” you hit his back weakly, whisper-yelling as if said lion would attack you if you spoke any louder. “a-ah...it's looking at me weirdly. it's definitely thinking of how delicious i am!”
“mimi is very gentle. i doubt she's thinking of such a thing.”
you sink further in his shadow when the lion catches your wary gaze with a tilt of its head. “jing, please. it may like you, but i doubt that a territorial species would enjoy having a stranger around its person bubble.”
“you're free to leave anytime, darling. i'm not forcing you to stay.” he says coyly.
“with how your adorable little mimi is standing right by the door—i doubt i can leave of my own accord.”
“so you think she's adorable? good to hear that.” oh, now he has selective hearing?
“jing yuan. please.” you kneel down and tug on his robes pleadingly, catching him off guard to the point he has now decided to fully turn towards you in mild surprise. “i really don't know how to deal with this! i don't dislike her or anything, i'm just super scared that she won't like me and would—”
“calm down.” your lover couches down before you, hand raising to pat your head. “she doesn't bite. i promise.”
“how are you so sure?” you question incredulously, ignoring the way your heartbeat quickens at his actions. “even if she's domesticated, she's still an animal that thrives on her own survival instincts.”
“dearest, would i really have taken in a pet if it was openly feral?”
“yep. you would.” you reply in a heartbeat.
his eye twitches in return.“ahem—okay, so as i was saying,” standing up to his full height, he stretches out a hand towards you, staring at you softly as he does so. “we both know i adore delicate and gentle things, [name]. mimi is exactly that—hence why i didn't mind taking her in and burdened you with meeting her.”
you raise a brow. he shrugs, opting to resign upon your obvious reluctance on the matter.
“truthfully, i wished to see my two favourite companions to bond and get along with my own two eyes,” he heaves an apologetic huff, a tad bit disappointed whilst you only stare in surprise, “but if you're really uncomfortable with it then i suppose i shouldn't force you.”
he helps you up with ease when you finally put your hand on his, hastily padding off the dust that was caught in your clothes upon kneeling down.
grasping your hand comfortingly to calm your nerves, you hate that it work flawlessly upon his touch.
“let's go?”
you were about to nod—until your gaze catches the lion's once more.
...pretty eyes.
snowmoon.
your heart clenches at the realisation.
“on second thought...” you trail off, watching as the mammal sits up in anticipation at your eye contact. jing yuan raises a brow at you, “i think i'll try interacting with her.”
he huffs out a deep chuckle, “really, you don't have to—”
“mimi?” you call out, leaning sideways to look past behind your lover's tall figure. he does the same, turning his head over his shoulder to look at the same direction you're fixated on.
the lion perks up, and starts walking towards you. you grin, but not before whispering back to jing yuan,
“if she actually bites me, we're breaking up.”
“no promises.”
you finally pat the lion's head after about an hour of excessive whining it'll bite you, finally havin found the courage to actually see it as a mere domesticated cat whilst glaring daggers at the owner.
“mimi...attack that bad guy.” you point at him, face still looking smug as ever.
“she won't listen to y—” said lion pounces on him.
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idek what this is fiakehwjbsksbw i cant write no more man,,,,*/proceeds to make another jingyuan drabble in google doc
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littlemiss-yeehaw · 2 months
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You're Gonna Be Quiet
Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Summary: It's just an undercover mission, anyone could be married for one night - even you two.
Warnings: profanity, flirting, yucky old men, suggestive content (?), possessive Bucky <3
MINORS PLS DNI
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: y'all.... im not an author. im an artist, not an author, so PLS go into this with that knowledge. but I have been convinced, no, coerced into posting this little funsy by @ellemj
she threatened to withhold vacation pictures from me as if I didn't draw her bucky barnes dick earlier today and I'll be damned
anyways,, please enjoy and manage your expectations :,)
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“Okay, rumor has it the target, Mr. Beaumont, has a thing for married women,” Sam says casually as he holds a ring between his thumb and forefinger, “so for this mission, you get to be Mrs. Barnes.”
He tosses the ring in your direction and you catch it with a sour expression. You slip the rock on your finger and admire it, your scowl slipping just a moment as you watch how it catches the sun. That is until you see Bucky with an equally foul look on his face. Suddenly, your frown reappears.
“Sam, I feel like there is certainly someone better suited for this than me,” you grumble as you put your hand down and look back up at him, “I mean, aren’t these undercover missions more of a Natasha thing?”
Sam rolls his eyes before turning to face you, a hand on his hip. You were in for a scolding. “Natasha has her own mission. So today, you get to be Mrs. Hart. And you,” he turns to Bucky with a smug expression, “will be Mr. Hart. Any questions? No? Good, you two lovebirds go get your outfits on.”
You turn quickly, but not quick enough to miss the death stare Bucky shoots Sam. This one seems even more lethal than his typical one.
~~~
The ride to the gala is silent. Bucky is always silent, but this silence seems more… suffocating. You fiddle with the ring on your finger before glancing over at him. “Are you planning to even look at me before we get there? I mean, we’re supposed to be a marri-”
“You’re supposed to be a woman in an unhappy marriage who's looking to fuck a billionaire,” he says bluntly, not even turning towards you, “I’m just making sure that you look plenty unhappy.”
He would never admit out loud that the real reason he won’t spare you a second glance is because the first glimpse of you dolled up sent almost all the blood in his rational mind straight to his cock. He needs to preserve what little sense he has left.
~~~
You get out of the car with a huff. Just as Bucky intended, you look unhappy and thoroughly irritated. You pull the hem of your little black dress down in an attempt to recover some of your dignity, but all Bucky notices is how the little tug causes your breasts to be even more apparent. Yep, there went the rest of the blood.  
He sighs and grabs your hand before plastering a fake smile onto his lips. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
You sigh and forget anymore yanking on your dress, looking up at him with a grim expression. “Let's,” you mutter under your breath before letting him lead you into the gala. 
As expected, the event is extravagant and no doubt costly. You feel out of place, and you can’t help the way you move a little further into your ‘husband’s side. You let a breath of air past your lips as you look around the room for your target. Nowhere to be seen, you nearly move further into the room before Bucky squeezes your hand gently and nods to his left. You’re quick to ignore the flutter of butterflies that his touch sends shooting through you and casually look where he’s pointed. Surely enough, at the bar, sits a piggish man nursing a flute of champagne. Your eyes find Buckys and you shoot him a look before you drop his hand and make your way over.
You take a seat a few bar stools down from the man, making sure to fail at getting the bartender's attention. “Sir? Sir, could I-” You drop your hand with a sigh, feigning a disheartened expression.
“Sir, this lady would like a drink,” like a mouse in a trap, Mr. Beaumont waves him down for you and orders you a drink, “you look like you’d drink something fruity, a little thing like you. Maybe a sex on the beach?”
You wish you’d missed the way his lips pulled up in a foul grin and the way his eyebrow raised ever so slightly, and you really wish you hadn’t seen his greedy eyes rake over your body. Nonetheless, a soft laugh and a bat of your lashes grace him instead of the scowl that wants to pull at your lips.
“I’ve never had one before,” you say with a saccharine smile, “maybe we could share.”
You notice how his eyes nearly bug out of his head and then slowly trail to your hand. He slides his fingers, not dissimilar to link sausages, down to your left hand where he trails a thumb over your ring. “Are you sure your husband wouldn’t mind,” he asks with that same vile grin, moving his hand to rest on your knee.
“Not particularly, but I’m sure I don’t care,” you whisper teasingly, leaning forward and showing off your tits that practically beg to fall from your dress. ‘Hook, line, and sinker’ you think as the man runs a heavy hand up the side of your leg and his eyes trail down your neck to your cleavage.
Trembling anger washes over Bucky as he watches the man practically feel you up in the middle of the bar. The beads of perspiration running down the target's neck and the way he keeps nervously licking his lips give Bucky all the indication he needs to know this man thinks you’re his. Then Bucky turns to look at you. You. You’re just letting the man have his way, no, you’re encouraging it. Yes, it’s the mission. And, no, Bucky has no reason to feel such vile hatred for the target in any sense other than the professional one. But for some reason, he finds himself wanting to dismember any part of the man that graces your body where he hasn’t yet.
Yet?
Yet.
~~~
“Who’s this, darling?”
You bristle as you feel a breath of air pass your ear before the deep timbre of Bucky's voice even registers in your mind. You whip around to look at him, an expression of anger and bewilderment replacing the flirtatious grin you were just donning. You look back to the target, trying to mask your surprise.
“Honey,” you manage to say through gritted teeth, “I didn’t even see you come over.”
You pull your hands from the target's grasp, nearly cringing at the moist feeling left behind on your skin. You feel Bucky’s firm hold replace Mr. Beaumont’s slimy touch, and your body reacts all too positively. You lean back hardly at all, but it’s enough to feel his chest rigid against you. Was he standing too close or were you too eager? There was no way to be sure, but one thing you could be sure of was the fact that neither of you shied from the contact.
“Hmm,” he hummed lowly, a disapproving air oozing from the short sound, “when you never brought our drinks over, I got curious as to where you’d disappeared to.”
His eyes shift from the side of your face to the man across from you, who grows increasingly uneasy at the sight of your tall and broad ‘husband’. Bucky leans down close, so close that his lips brush against the curve of your ear and you hope he can’t hear your blood rushing in your head.
“I’ll ask again, who is this?”
You’re not sure if it's what he says, or the way he says it, but his words send a wave of arousal through your body. Suddenly, the too-tiny dress feels too hot and you’ve nearly forgotten his question. That is until he quirks an eyebrow and tilts his head expectantly. You clear your throat and look back to a flustered target, presumably intimidated by your colleague.
“This,” you reply before turning back to the sweaty man, “is Mr. Beaumont. He owns a software company and..”
You turn to the target, a ditsy smile on your lips as you try to recover your role, “what else did you do? I forget.”
He laughs nervously, shifting on his bar stool to make himself appear taller. Still pitiful in comparison to the man currently staring daggers at him over your shoulder. “I develop software and coding for various companies and organizations to use where they deem fit.”
Another low hum sounds from Bucky’s throat as he lifts his head from your ear, he meets Mr. Beaumont's eyes and sighs.
“Very impressive, Mr. B,” he says condescendingly. You frown, peeking over at him. What is he doing? This was not a part of the plan, “so you must be a smart man?”
The man in question smiles smugly and nods. “I’d think so, yes.”
“Well then, pray tell, why have you been feeling up my wife,” he asks coolly, Bucky’s turn to look smug. You, on the other hand, whip around to stare at him with an irate expression. He looks down at you with a matching frown, hardly able to mask his irritation, “Don’t worry, dear, I’ll handle you later.”
You’d like to think you were subtle in your shock, in the way his words leave you flustered. You had no idea Bucky could smell the wave of arousal that flooded your panties, or that he could hear the beat of your heart like a snare drum. Neither of you even noticed the target’s pitiful stuttering, too caught up in the most sexually charged staring contest ever.
~~~
“What the fuck, Barnes,” you hiss quietly, walking ahead of him to the car with steam practically flooding out of your ears, “I mean, what the actual fuck!”
You don’t wait for him to catch up before you get into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut behind you. You didn’t care for appearances, your mission having been sabotaged by your own partner. What appearances did you have left to keep up?
He gets into the driver's seat a few moments later, pulling his gloves off with a sigh before running his flesh hand over his face.
“Are you done?”
“No,” you snap, turning to face him, “I’m not. You have the audacity to call me reckless, but you go and pull a stunt like that? I had it under control.” Your cheeks are red with irritation and your hair is a mess from you running your fingers through it, but he’s too caught up with thinking what else would have you looking so flushed.
“If you’d just shut up and listen-” he starts, but you’re quick to cut him off.
“I was getting the intel,” you’re practically ranting now, “and you just had to swoop in. And for what? To be all macho? To fluster me?”
The scowl on his lips that once matched yours turns into a scoff, and you narrow your eyes at him. Why are you looking at his lips? And why can’t you pull your gaze away from them? “What? What now,” you ask with a huff.
“You really need to learn when to stop talking,” he mutters, looking at you out of the corner of his eye as he tries to wipe the smug smile from his face, “y’know that?”
You’re startled by his words, the flush on your cheeks no longer caused by his irritating actions but by his shocking words. Your eyes travel over him shamelessly, ready to jeopardize everything just to get rid of the tension that has lingered and grown exponentially over the course of the evening.
“Then why don’t you shut me up,” you ask softly, your tone opposite to the defiant one you’d held only moments ago. Judging by the minuscule way his eyes widen and the way his lips part around a sharp inhale, you’d be safe to guess he’d beat you to the idea.
You aren’t sure who moved forward first, or even if you’d moved at all. All you can be sure of is the feeling of Bucky Barnes kissing you like he’d never have the privilege again. 
Your lips move feverishly against his own, the car filled with quiet pants and sloppy smacking. His hands tangle in your hair and he tugs you away from him, his expression turning stern when you whine petulantly. “Did you know you were a fucking brat tonight,” he asks lowly, his stare hard. You swallow thickly, pressing your thighs together to relieve the ache between them.
“I was not,” you rebut, your brows furrowing and your lips turning down in a pout. He didn’t like that.
“You were,” he chides coolly, releasing his grip on your hair and sighing, “especially after we walked back to the car. You never even let me explain why I stopped you.”
You would like to focus on his words, but you’re too worried about the way his metal fingers nimbly undo the buckle of his belt. Silence sweeps over the car, the only sound being your shaky breath and the clank of metal on metal.
“So here’s what we’re gonna do,” he continues, “I’m gonna talk, and you’re gonna listen. Quietly.” You’re salivating as he tugs the zipper of his dress pants down, allowing the tent in his boxers some much-needed reprieve. “You know why you’re gonna be quiet?”
“Why,” you ask in a breathless whisper, only just now meeting his eyes again. 
“Because your mouth is gonna be full."
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luveline · 5 months
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hi lovely jade!! I had an idea for a request: reader who’s pretty independent who hurt her back working out and now can’t walk/shower/etc on her own for a few days x any of the marauders (I really do love them all and especially the way you write them. you can also make this poly!marauders if you feel so inclined).
this is definitely self indulgent, so please feel free to ignore it if it doesn’t do the creative trick.
thank you for sharing your lovely writing with us and being lovely overall!
sending so many hugs to you!!
hi honey, thank u for requesting!! hope u get better soon <3
the boys take care of you when you hurt yourself. fem, 1.2k
You wake in Sirius’ bed with James curled over you protectively. This is not unusual. What is strange is that Sirius seems to have already gotten up for the day, his sleep shirt thrown in a crumpled mess at your feet and his phone off the charger. You scrub at your tired eyes and consider going to look for him, figuring he's probably in the den (or office, depending on which boy you ask), but your back gives a twinge, and then a throb, and you remember the night before. 
You rub James’ arm and push it off of your chest, preparing mentally for the pain. You've tweaked it a few times in the past, the next day always being worse than the actual time of injury, and yet the pain you're met with is instantaneously disarming. 
“Ow,” you can't help but whine, trying to bend forward away from the pain, and finding you can't manage that, either. You gasp as heat races up your spine and across your shoulders, everywhere and nowhere, like the press of a hot hand. 
James mumbles, “What's the matter?” with his head still buried in the pillows. 
“James, I think I've really hurt myself.” Tears squeeze so quickly out of the corners of your eyes that you don't have time to recognise the heat of them. Other sensations are more pressing. 
You don't know if he's looking at you, but you can feel his careful touch working its way up his arm, and hear the ruffle of the sheets as he gets up. “What?” he asks, his voice stretched with the early hour. 
“Last night, when we were lifting, I– I pulled my shoulder and I thought it would–” You make a strangled sound. “It's really bad, what do I do?” 
“Woah, woah, don't panic!” He leans in, your blurry view suddenly filled with his gentle face. 
James soothes it from there, so to speak. He shushes you softly when you start to sob and helps you lay back down, wiping your tears, not a lick of panic about him. “It's okay, it's okay,” he murmurs, “does that feel better?” 
It's better flat, but not gone. “I can't sit up.” 
“That's okay,” he says, bringing your hand to his lips, where he kisses your fingers. 
He waits for you to calm down before grabbing his phone from his room. It's much later in the day than you'd thought, and Sirius will be working his afternoon shift, while Remus could be anywhere. He likes to write in cafes or parks, somewhere away from the hubbub of the house, lest he be distracted, waylaid with kisses, or pestered into helping make dinner or do laundry or whatever needs doing that day. 
“Hey,” James says, hushed, “you okay? Mm… can you come home?” A startled question that betrays the first recipient, Remus’ rasp on the line. “Yeah, I'm fine, it's our little gym rat sweetheart, she's strained her back, she's a bit upset… No, not yet. You think she'll let me?” 
“I'm not going to the doctor’s,” you call to him. James smiles at you from the door. 
“We’ll see,” he shoots back. “Yep yep. Okay. Well, he's in work… Okay. Yeah, okay. Love you, see you in a bit.” 
“What can he do?” you ask. “You should've left him.” 
“Same thing as me.” He runs his hands through his hair. It's a little too long again, dark and thick, curled at the base of his neck with flicks behind his ears, though it's short compared to Sirius’ mess. When he drops his arms, the noon time sunshine kisses his brown skin with a gorgeous warmth, and emphasises the lines of veins where they run up his arms. “You look like you're in agony,” he says, covering his mouth with a hand. “Is it really that bad?” 
You nod miserably. 
He sits next to you carefully, but now you've awoken your pain it won't sleep, and each millilitre of the mattress's distension prompts a new layer of aching. “Sorry,” he says, sounding like he could cry for you, “why didn't you tell me last night?” 
James wraps his arms around you in a strange way, trying not to jostle you as he leans down to touch his nose to your forehead. 
“I didn't think it would be this bad.” 
He talks a little about the doctor's while you wait for Remus to come home. It isn't a waste of time, he insists, the GP is there for a reason. 
You're surprised when it's Sirius who shouts up the stairs. “You okay?” he calls. 
“Sirius?”
James shrugs. “Remus must've told him. We're fine!” 
A rush up the stairs. Sirius pauses by the door, frowning at you both in his bed. “What did you do?” 
“Well, I didn't mean to,” you say. 
“Not you, darling. James, I told you to look after her, all that equipment freaks me out, and Remus agrees.” 
James sighs. “He doesn't mean that.” 
Sirius goes to sit with you but stops upon noticing your wince, and instead flops down on the floor near the wardrobe with his phone to his ear. “I'll get an emergency appointment.” 
“This isn't an emergency,” you say. 
“It is for you. You'll need a sick note sorted anyways.” 
“But it's not that bad.” 
“Sweetheart,” Sirius says, smiling at you softly, an uncommon expression on him, though not unseen, “I know when you've had a big cry.” 
He gets put on hold, saving you the further ache of the line music while James strokes your temple. You attempt to hide how much your back hurts, but you're hurting bad and the knowledge that it's not about to go away soon is genuinely scary. 
Remus understands uncertain pain. He's last to come home but certainly not the least concerned, shoving his laptop case onto Sirius’ dresser, freeing his hands in favour of your face. “Is it bad?” he asks, looking between you and James for an answer. 
“Not really,” you say. James’ face must say differently. 
“What painkillers have you taken?” he asks quickly, “I have co-codamols, did you take paracetamol? You can't have them at the same time.” 
He frowns deeply at your daunted look. “You haven't taken them already, have you? They're very strong by themselves, with paracetamol as well, you'd–” 
“I haven't taken anything,” you admit. 
Sirius sighs and rubs his nose into his palm. “Jesus.” 
“Oh,” Remus says, hands especially tender, even as he laughs, “of course you haven't.” 
“I was a bit distracted.” 
He sobers, stroking the fat of your cheek and then leaning down for a careful kiss. “Of course. Haven't eaten anything either, I suppose?” 
“No, sorry.” 
He kisses you again and pulls away. “That's okay. What about you, Jamie, did you eat?” 
They take care of you in their different ways, in the same way they take care of one another. “No,” James says, “but I have it. Swap places with me, I'll make dinner while we wait for the GP to answer.” 
“You can make supper at the same time,” Sirius jokes.
You laugh and hurt your back. He is very, very sorry. 
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loving-family-poll · 3 months
Text
Ultimate Incest Tournament - Semifinals
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Propaganda under the cut:
Sam/Dean:
I'm sorry but they have it all. children of metaphorical incest just continuing the cycle in any way they can. they are brothers and mother + son and wives and each other's scorned lovers and life partners they've had multiple infidelity arcs they are sexually psychopathic together they have forsook life and morality and the earth itself for each other and just love each other so much . They are literally in a heaven of their own making together for eternity, incestuously. Come on!!! Blueprint!!!!! It's not gay if he's your brother!!!!!
dean did stuff to sam's dead body in ahbl. i just know it
Messed-up, isolated sibs with all the daddy and abandonment issues. Their lives are so claustrophobic with the brothers no more than five feet apart in the car, a motel room, or standing next to civilians (face it, they are frigging magnets). Can't leave out that they are always touching each other to check for wounds which is a huge PLUS for any shipper.
Sam and Dean ARE literally the blowjob brothers. They walk into a situation and everyone goes well well well if it isn't the blowjob brothers....... And they say. Yep. That's us. And then they fix the situation with their epic love story
THE classic, iconic, show shopping, never done before etc. etc. incest ship. It changed fandom and it changed the world
Dave/Rose:
Daverose blondetwin sweep because they were codependent without ever meeting from growing up seeing each other in their dreams
What does it mean to be an abused teenage boy growing up alone and seeing a girl in your dreams every night who is also your best friend. and when you finally meet her you go on a suicide mission together even though nobody was asking you to die with her. and then you are the only two human beings left in the recognizable universe on a cold meteor surrounded by aliens but you’re glad it’s with her. and when you finally touch the girl from your childhood dreams she looks exactly like you. because she’s your sister
I don't have words for how good these snarky assholes are together. DaveRose is brain chemistry changing. They both put up so many fronts, and engage in so much snarky wordplay, and are constantly trying to get under each other's facade. They play off each other so well, witty and sharp, I need them to be together always
We all die & we all die alone are the two cold truths of the universe but dave and rose broke both simultaneously by ascending to godhood together
Their twincest wins because it is just so confusingly tragic? profound? dave leaving rose behind in a doomed world, dave following her to the bomb. they are both so closed & cut off & curt its hard to imagine the depth of these things. but that is their love language: giving up their lives for each other over and over, in a confusing and fumbling and heartfelt love song. i can’t say i love you but i know we’ll die together anyway. because we’re made of the exact same stuff. i’ll find you again at the last moment. that’s love.
THEY DIED TOGETHER, YOUR HONOR
Confirmed canon by the author, (something happened) between them. Parallels of dying by each other's sides in EVERY timeline. They are THE womb-to-tomb. There is nothing platonic about winking at your brother while talking about crushes, that shit is incestuous. Seer/Knight archetype. They will die protecting each other.
do you realize love someone if you don’t follow them on a suicide mission into the gaping maw of a literal fucking sun after they knock you out and psychoanalyze you in your dreams? the blueprint of the “ethereal androgynous blonde boygirl twins” trope. witch/knight dynamics. they find each other to die together in every timeline no matter what (but they’re still emotionally constipated teenagers who bicker and make fun of each other in pesterchum). kids with grown-up powers. perfect little freaks of nature. what if we looked exactly like each other’s eyes
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radiance1 · 6 months
Text
Danny was having a good night, laying down on his side and purring contentedly while his tail swayed lazily. He was living a good life nowadays, freed from his responsibilities as the eternal prince of the Infinite Realms and taking on the mantle of the head of a Familia.
Perhaps, one of these days, he should try and find the wizard who turned him into a cat and thank them for it. What would a wizard even like anyway?
He pondered on that for a moment, perhaps a magical artifact or another could suffice? He stretched. Oh well, it didn't matter right now, he wasn't going to do it so soon anyways.
He opened his mouth, a yawn escaping him as he finished his stretch, tongue peeking out to lick his lips. He changed his position to something more comfortable, sinking into the lavishly soft pillows and reminding himself to get Catwoman something once again for giving him this high-quality cat bed.
Custom made too, multiple times bigger than him, the softest pillows he's ever felt and smelling extremely good. Even when multiple others forced themselves into his bed, even though they had their own as a gift from her as well.
Perhaps another diamond is in order?
His ears perked up as the sound a crash echoed throughout the warehouse, and he lazily peeked an eye open as the sound of paws running towards his direction made themselves known.
His nose twitched, the familiar scent of iron controlling the air as he sighed.
Kevin.
"Graaaaaaaaaaaamps!" A cat of what was once white fur, now stained with blood, skidded to a stop in front of him. Danny sighed once more, other eye opening as he looked at his first, and what others call his second-in-command. "I'm not that old, 150 is still quite young Kevin." He spoke calmly, no real heat in his voice and instead, amusement.
Kevin, predictably, ignored him. "You won't believe what happened tonight." Kevin then turned cheeky, stepping forwards towards his bed, and Danny had half a mind to try and prevent him from staining his bed, before discarding that thought just as quickly. "Guess!"
Danny's stare turned flat, and he had an urge to facepaw. Instead, he sighed, staring at the blood staining the other's fur before resting his head back on his bed. "You died again, didn't you?"
"Yep!" Kevin stepped onto the bed, both face and reply cheerful as the sun. "But that's not it!" Kevin bounced his way over to the elder cat, bloody pawprints marking his path on the previously clean bed.
Danny sniffed, a faint unknown tickling his nose before Kevin flopped on top of him, the blood stains on the smaller cat rubbing off on him, causing Danny to shift position, one that would support the younger better. "Oh, really?" He inquired, reaching out to grasp a glass shard from Kevin's side and placing it onto the bed.
"Yea! I fought spark, the spark!" Kevin purred, tail swishing behind him. "Can you believe it!?"
Danny hummed, picking another shard of glass from his first's skin.
"She was suuuuuper strong! Not stronger than you obviously, but she was really tough, I almost couldn't keep up with her!" Danny used a paw to silently request for Kevin to turn, and he did, with Danny plucking another shard from his skin. "She went all woosh, and boom! And then I went swish, and whish and she could barely touch me!"
"Mhm." Danny shifted, gently lowering the other, younger cat from off of him and instead to his side onto his stomach, reaching over to pick the shards from his back. "Then, then she used her power and then I was going fwoosh! Then I crashed into a nearby window and then we had to scatter because the human inside was mad about it." Kevin chirped, easily moving through his story despite the biggest pieces of glass being currently taken out of his back. "Then I ran all the way here because I wanted to tell you about it!"
"That's nice Kevin," Once he was done, Danny reached forward to lick the other on his head, his tail moving forward-the fur turning from black to glowing white- and flinging the shards of glass up through the air and into the rafters. "However." Danny's speech turned from that of a cat to one of a more humane-like tongue, his eyes narrowing at the form of one of those vigilantes running around the city- this one seems to be the Robin, based on his description of the hero- took the thrown shards of glass as a sign to drop down onto the ground.
"It seems you've managed to have drawn one of the humans into our territory in your excitement." Danny rubbed his chin against Kevin's head, uncaring for the blood soaking into his fur. "I don't blame you, that strain of human is known to be quite sneaky when they want to be."
Robin stood up, cape shrouding his form from ankle to shoulders. He narrowed his eyes at the scene, and Danny, in turn, narrowed his own as the rest of his fur turned glowing white, toxic green eyes staring at the lone human in a den of cats.
A silent threat.
"Care to explain, human known as Robin?"
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imtryingbuck · 7 months
Text
Clingy
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~ gif not mine credit to owner ~
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky overhears his girlfriend calling him clingy
Word count: 1243
Warnings: sad Bucky and swearing
A/N: whilst editing this I realised that Alpines a girl but just for the sake of this story we’re going to pretend she’s a boy🙃
Masterlist
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Bucky had a massive smile planted on his face as he left the bedroom he shares with his girlfriend and cat; he was so proud of himself for finally mastering online shopping - he just ordered a huge cat tree for Alpine. To others it wouldn’t have been important but for him it was an accomplishment he was excited to share with his girl.
With a little bounce in his step, he was about to turn the corner to where the common room was when he comes to a stop.
“-I’m telling you Nat it’s annoying” he smiles at the voice that has soothed him to sleep more times than one “he’s so clingy, always wanting to lay on me, always following me around, trying to kiss me whilst I’m eating! It’s like he always needs to be touching me at every given moment, God he’s so needy�� his heart breaks not only at the words but at how frustrated she sounds. He really didn’t mean to be clingy and needy, there was no doubt in his or anyone’s minds that he was in love with her, everyone always mocked about how he was her shadow, but he didn’t care. Being her shadow was his way of showing her that he loves her and that he was always going to be there, that no one was ever going to hurt her. 
Not having the heart to hear the rest he turns around and walk back to their shared room, determination running through his veins he was going to change. He didn’t want to lose her. The last thing he hears is Natasha laughing.
“Y/N he’s a cat! He loves you” Natasha chuckles.
“Yeah but still… it’s annoying. Because the worst part is that he only does it when Bucky isn’t there” Nat tries really hard not to laugh at the pout on the other woman’s face. It doesn’t take long for both burst out laughing.
~~~
Throughout the week Y/n notices something wrong with Bucky, it wasn’t normal for him to be out of bed before her - not anymore at least - he didn’t want to cuddle up with her anymore, the kisses were quick. It was hurting her; she was missing him even though he was close by. It wasn’t just her that noticed Bucky’s strange behaviour.
“What’s going on with you and Mr grumpy pants?” Sam asks as he hands her a fresh cup of tea.
“I don’t know Sammy, he’s been distant this past week and I don’t know what I’ve done”
“Have you guys argued?”
“No” taking careful sips of the hot beverage “the last time we argued was when I took that bullet for him and that was like what three months ago? We only argued for about an hour before we made up.”
“Wait… seriously that was the last time you argued?”
“Yep, we don’t argue about anything. Yes, we have disagreements about everything and anything, but it never leads to us fighting. But we also come to a mutual agreement on whatever we’re disagreeing with.”
“Okay okay” he puts on his concentration face on as she always puts it “have you took any bullets for him recently?” chuckling when he receives a deadpan look.
“No Sam I haven’t taken any bullets for him recently” rolling her eyes as she sets the now empty cup down “I honestly don’t know what I’ve done, I miss him.”
Standing up and placing a kiss to her temple “Go and talk to him, it’s breaking my heart seeing you both sad and mopey.”
“I will, thanks Falc”
Instead of going to find Bucky she grabbed her coat and bag and headed down to the garage, once she was inside her car she drove to the store.
The bed was covered in all different kind of snacks and drinks, her plan was to sit him down and talk then they’ll spend the rest of the night in bed watching movies and filling their faces. Making her way out of the room she went to track down her boyfriend - finding him in the gym.
“Hi bubba, can you finish up here and come with me” instantly not liking how her voice sounds.
“Um okay just give me a minute.”
“Of course.”
“Im done, where we going.?” Bucky’s right hand twitches to reach out to hold hers but all he does is shoves it in his pocket.
“Back to our room. We need to talk Buck”
He was prepared to drop to his knees and beg for her not to break up with him, promises on the tip of his tongue that he’d change and be better. Before he could utter a word, they had arrived at their room. The door was closed softly behind them whilst his head was bowed downwards finding his shoes more interesting. 
“Buck I don’t know what I’ve done wrong but I’m sorry I don-“
“I heard you”
“What?”
“I heard you talking to Nat about me being clingy and needy and annoying and I’m trying baby really I am. I gave you space, Im keeping distant because I love you and I don’t want you to break up with me an-“ 
“Bucky breath! Here sit down, focus on your breathing bubba” Moving him to sit on the sofa that was in their room, she knelt down in front of him going through his breathing exercises.
It took nearly 10 minutes for him to get his breathing under control, leaving him feeling more ashamed as always after he had a panic attack “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he manages to rasp out.
“I’ll tell you what I always tell you when you have panic attacks - don’t apologise. It’s okay bubba I promise, I’ve got you” taking his hands into hers so rubs her thumbs over his flesh and metal knuckles “I wasn’t talking about you that day Buck, I was talking about Alpine. He followed me and Nat into the common room and Nat made a comment, I was talking about how he only wants me when you’re not around. Oh bubba you actually thought I was talking about you?” Taking one of her hands from his she wipes the stray tear that rolls down his cheek as he nods “Bucky I love it when you’re all over me, I love knowing that I’m never alone because your always there. I have never once thought you was clingy not once! I love you Buck and I love the attention you give me and affection you show me. Please bubba understand that”
“I love you too” bringing up her hand in his metal one “I’m sorry for overreacting baby I should of spoken to you”
“Give me a kiss and all is forgiven” she grins cheekily.
He pulls her on to his lap and kisses her, both sighs contentedly as they share their first kiss in a week little pants of air leaves their lips once they detach from one another.
“I brought snacks and drinks so how about me and you get into bed watch movies, eat, cuddle and maybe some other activities?” She says with a suggestive tone with one eyebrow raised.
Bucky chuckles when a squeal interrupts him standing up.
The third film has finished, not like they were watching - to busy doing other activities - they lay tangled with one another. 
“I brought Alpine a new cat tree off the Amazon.”
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~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~
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leossmoonn · 1 year
Text
Muse
masterlist
pairing - xavier thorpe x fem!reader
type - smut, 16+
note - i haven’t even seen the show yet but I’ve consumed so much xavier content I feel like I can write a smut fic abt him 😅😅
summary - you wake up to xavier drawing you, leading to something more
warnings / includes - language, oral (f receiving), soft dom!xavier, some body worship, insecurity mentions, thigh riding if you squint. lowk i have no idea if the reader is allowed to sleep in xavier’s room but for this fic she is 🤫🤫🤫
————
*gif isn’t mine*
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“No, this isn’t right. Almost… no. Is her nose rounder or more pointy?”
You toss and turn as you hear your boyfriend’s mumbling.
“Oh, great, she moved,” you hear him sigh.
Your eyes flutter open, sleep weighing them down. You slowly reach your hands out from the warm blankets, rubbing your eyes before stretching. Your back pops and ankles crack as you extend your body over the bed, catching Xavier’s attention.
“Did I wake you?” he asks, worry evident in his voice.
“No, I was already waking up,” you shake your head. “But did I mess up your drawing?”
A light chuckle echos in his room. “No, you didn’t.”
“Oh, really? Because I heard you having some trouble finding out what shape my nose is. From how much you stare at my face, I would’ve assumed that you would know it by heart now,” you tease him, smiling as you stretch once more.
“You’re already so perfect in real life, I wanted to capture that in my drawing,” he states.
You let out a breathy laugh as you smile. You peek open your eyes to peer at him, seeing as his hair is pulled back into a half-pony tail. “You know the way to a girl’s heart, Xavier.”
“You know I try my best,” he quips. You close your eyes, turning onto your left side and cuddle the pillow. You hear Xavier move to the other side of the bed, sitting down beside your legs.
“Trying to get the right angle?” you hum. “Yep. Would you like to see what I have so far?” he asks.
“Sure,” you say, forcing your eyes to open. You sit up on your elbows, jaw becoming slack as you look at his drawing. “Xavi, this looks nothing like me.”
He furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”
“You must be drawing your other, more pretty girlfriend,” you snort, laying back down with a thump.
Xavier rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on. You know you’re gorgeous.”
“Not when I’ve just woken up,” you scoff.
He sets his drawing down on his desk, walking back to his bed. He sits down closer to your head, cupping your cheek. His thumb gently moves your face out from the pillows. You nuzzle into his warm touch, glancing up at him.
“You are so wrong, Y/n,” he says softly.
Your ears suddenly feel warm and you shy away, sinking into the bed. “You’re only saying that because I’m your girlfriend.”
“You have no idea how much I talked about you before we started dating,” he chuckles. “Enid and Ajax couldn’t stand being around me.”
You smile a little. “Oh, really?”
“Yep,” he grins. “Well, what did you tell them?” you inquire. “And make sure to tell me in full detail.”
“I’ll try. We wouldn’t want you to get a big head now, would we?” he teases.
You let out an exasperated sigh. “Get on with it.”
He smiles and leans in, his lips inches apart from yours. “For starters, I would say how pretty your eyes are and how cute your smile is. And I would compliment your makeup and how skillful and creative you are with it. How amusing it was to see that little smirk you get after correcting someone in class. I would say how nice your voice was to listen to, and how intimidating you seemed,” he explains.
“How am I intimidating?” you ask, a little smirk on your face. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he remarks.
His other hand sneaks underneath his blankets, finding your bare thigh. You suck in a breath, watching his face in anticipation.
“I also used to say how great you looked in a button down.” his hand skims up higher, the pads of his fingers ghosting over your panties. “I would comment on your skirts nicely frame your ass. How sexy you look in your stockings.”
He presses his first finger over your clothed clit. You let out a little gasp, trying to regain your composure.
“You would say that to Enid and Ajax?” you raise your brow.
He shrugs lightly. “I said those things to myself instead.”
You hum in reply. “Anything else?”
“Just how you are the most beautiful, intelligent, creative, strong person I know,” he grins. You can’t help but smile with him as you see the outer corners of his eyes crinkle.
“You are so sweet, Xavi. Thank you for saying all those nice things about me.”
“Would you be open to me showing them to you?” he asks, his voice now low. He stares deeply into your eyes, making your heart drop to your feet.
“How would you do that?” you ask, playing dumb.
He doesn’t answer. He closes the gap between you two, kissing you softly. You pull your arms out from under the covers, reaching for his shoulders and neck. Your right hand cups the nape of his neck, your left hand burying your fingers into his soft and tangled hair. You sit up without breaking the kiss, you press your chest up against his. His hands grip your waist, fingertips sliding under his shirt that you’re wearing.
One of your hands drop to his thigh, reaching for his pants. He pulls away quickly, grabbing your hand and holding it away from him.
“Don’t even think about it,” he says. You frown in confusion, “why?”
“Lay down,” he commands. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly feel obligated to do anything he says.
You lay back down, watching as Xavier slips under the covers. He towers over you, one hand resting by your head while the other is playing with the bottom of your shirt.
“I told you I was gonna show you, didn’t I?” he asks.
You smile widely, nodding excitedly. “You indeed did.”
“Don’t worry about me then. This morning is about you,” he says.
“Luckily me,” you hum.
He shakes his head. “Lucky me.” he dives down and kisses you again, his warm hand slithering up your shirt. The pads of his fingers skim over your hardened nipple. You sigh in reply, eyes fluttering close as his kisses reach your neck. He sucks a bruise right below your ear.
“Mm, I better not have to cover this up with makeup,” you say.
“No promises,” he whispers, irrupting butterflies in your tummy. He lifts your shift up and you lift your arms up, helping him slip it off. He takes a look at your almost-naked figure. Your red panties are still on, hugging your hips perfectly. He sucks in a breath and smiles, something he does every time he sees a part of you, or all of you. He never fails to do it, and it never fails to make you feel special.
“Lucky me,” he mumbles to himself, taking in your beauty.
“Xavier,” you whine. Although you love the attention, you’re a little too horny than you’d care to admit. You need him.
“What, pretty girl?” he asks, his eyes flipping to yours. “Don’t just sit there. Do something,” you answer.
He chuckles, “you are so needy in the morning, you know that?”
You shrug, “you’re fault.” “Oh, is that so?” he cocks his right brow.
You grab his hand that’s on your boob, bringing it down to your panties so he can feel the small wet patch. His dick strains against his pajama pants.
“See? You’re fault,” you say. “I feel so bad,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Guess I should do something about it.”
You roll your eyes as he keeps playing games. If he didn’t love seeing you struggle and beg, he would already have his head between your thighs. But seeing you whine and huff is equally as rewarding than making you come.
“Please, Xavier. We don’t have long until we have to go to class,” you beg, pulling at his shirt.
“Well, since you said please,” he hums. He brings his head down to your boobs, putting his mouth on one as his hand encompasses the other. You sigh lightly, resting your hands on his shoulders. His tongue flicks your nipple, rolling the other between his thumb and third finger.
Need grows in your tummy. You buck your hips up, meeting his thigh that’s between your legs. Your voice shakes as moan, lifting your hips up again. Your clit rubs against his thigh, almost giving you the satisfaction you crave.
“So needy,” Xavier mumbles against your skin.
You reply by grabbing at his shirt, your fingers hooking around the waistband of his pants. “Want you, Xavier. Need you,” you breathe out.
You watch as his cheeks become rosy. You smile to yourself, your hands slithering under his shirt and running over his chest.
He begins to kiss down your chest, not being able to take it anymore. If there’s one thing he wants most in this moment, it would be to make you shake and scream him name.
“You are so perfect,” he hums against your skin. He places passionate but feverish kisses across your body, hands grabbing at your thighs and ass. You look down at him, not being able to contain a smile as he covers your whole body with his love. He kisses your hip, sucking softly on the skin near your pussy. He’s so close, you can almost feel his tongue on your clit.
You push your hips up to his face, his nose bumping into your thigh.
“Patience, princess,” he mumbles, his hot breath fanning over your skin. Your underwear dampens and he chuckled as the wet spot grows darker. He hooks his fingers onto your underwear, pulling them off painfully slow. It feels like a million years as you watch him drag them down to your feet. He discards them onto the floor, settling himself between your thighs.
He starts to nibble on the inner corner of your legs. You huff impatiently, tangling your fingers in his hair and trying to move him to where you want him. But he’s stronger than you. One of his hands takes yours, pinning it to the bed. Wet kisses line your legs. He sucks down on one of the most sensitive parts of your inner thighs, making you jolt.
“Please, Xavier. Please,” you gasp. “Please what, pretty?” he asks, his eyes meeting yours.
You groan internally. He looks so sexy between your thighs. Those big, innocent green eyes staring up at you. His pupils are blown and you can see your own reflection.
“If you don’t tell me what you want, I can’t give it to you,” he hums.
“Eat me out, please,” you moan pathetically. You feel his cheekbones raise against your skin as he smiles.
You watch as his mouth attaches to your clit. Your head lulls back in relief and pleasure. You feel his tongue flick your clit, rubbing circles against the throbbing bud. He brings his mouth down to your slit, slipping his tongue into your hole. He swirls his tongue, shaking his head from side to side.
His tongue lips a stripe up your pussy and lands back onto your clit. He sucks softly but firmly, taking the hand that isn’t holding yours and slowly inserting two fingers into your pussy. Your lips gush liquids, making a little puddle on his bedsheets. He begins to move his fingers inside of you, his tongue lapping around your clit.
“Fuu-uck, Xavier. Just like that, yeah, ju-just like that,” you praise, your hand gripping his hair. His pony tail falls out from your fingers and moving his head. His hair falls onto your skin, tickling you slightly.
You let out a breathy giggle. It gets swallowed up by a moan as he adds another finger. You spread your thighs, your muscles clenching his fingers. Your moans get louder, egging Xavier on. His lips suck on your skin as his tongue licks up and down your clit. His fingers move inside of you faster, more of your juices spilling out around his fingers. The only sounds in the room are your moans, your pussy, and his panting.
“Xavier, baby. I-I’m close,” you stammer. Your thighs enclose around his face. You begin to ride his tongue, your nails digging into the back of his neck. He lets go of your hand that he’s holding, gripping onto your thigh. He holds your leg close to his cheek, wanting - no needing - to be engulfed by your scent and taste. His fingers dig into your skin as his hand that’s fingering you begins to move faster.
“Ah, ah, ah!” you pant, your chest puffing up and down. Your tummy tightens and you feel like your bladders about to let lose. Your body comes to a stop, all the muscles in your body tightening. You come so hard, the hand that’s on his bed almost rips the sheets off.
He watches your face as you unravel, feeling his own underwear become wet with pre-cum. You’re so beautiful. The way your head is titled back, your mouth wide open. He loves the way your eyes are screwed shut in pleasure. He can’t help but smile, not being able to stop admiring you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you ramble. He slows his movements, stopping his fingers but keeping his tongue moving.
“Ohmygod, fuck. Xavier, please,” you begin to pull away from him, the stimulation almost painful.
He stops, sitting up on his knees. He sucks his fingers dry, running his other hand through his hair. He looks down at the puddle you made, a prideful smirk taking over his features.
“Someone was really wet,” he says. “Your fault,” you say.
“I guess it was,” he chuckles. He dives his head back down, kissing your calves all the way up to your face. You bask in his love, your body tingling in each place he kisses. He holds your sides gently, his hands snaking to the small of your back. He kisses you sweetly. You can taste yourself, your tongue running across his bottom lip to capture the tanginess.
“That feel good, gorgeous?” he asks against your lips. “So good,” you breathe out.
“I think we should start every morning off like that, yeah?” he suggests
“I’ll be exhausted every day, then,” you chuckle. He shrugs, one of his hands moving to the underside of your boob. “As long as you’re exhausted from me.”
“Oh, shut up,” you snort, rolling your eyes and pushing him away lightly.
“You would love that, too,” he smirks.
You shake your head with a big smile on your face. “You wish.”
————
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trashogram · 28 days
Text
He Chose You (Pt. 10)
Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
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Everything was white. Pristine white. 
You couldn’t be blind, but no one would blame you for entertaining the idea as nothing but white stretched beyond your gaze.
Unending white. 
Uncanny. White. 
“Hello?” You asked the white abyss. Your call echoed out and back in, the way you imagined sound would echo in a canyon. 
“Hello!” 
You screamed, jumping up at the new voice coming from somewhere high above you. You tried to pinpoint where it came from, staring up at what you hoped was the sky before things slowly materialized. 
Pastel pinks, oranges and soft blues bled into the white, adding definition to what had once been literally nothing. The whiteness remained in the shape of buoyant, fluffy clouds pillowing all around you. 
“Over here!” The voice chimed. “Oh no, here! You’re getting warmer! Almost there!”
After circling around like a dog after your own tail, you finally found the source. Behind you rose a ginormous golden gate, gleaming beneath an electric-looking, all-seeing eye.
 And at its entrance towered a gold and platinum podium. 
A very… well, there was no other way to say it — a very white man with swooping blond hair eyed you from the top of the podium, grinning from ear to ear. 
“Hiya! Welcome!” The man said. “You’re right on time!” 
“Uh, okay…?” You replied. 
Without a hitch, the blond lifted up a large tome and began flicking through the pages. In the meantime, you stood there awkwardly, a question on the very tip of your tongue. 
“Wh-um, where am I, exactly?” You finally asked. 
“Why, you’re in Heaven of course!” He stated jovially before turning the book around and tapping on a name. “This is you, correct?”
Your name stared back at you in a glowing golden font, all pretty and shiny — 
And underlined? 
“Yeah.” You blinked. “Wait, did you just say Heaven?”
“Mm-hm, yep! And if I could just get you to stand right here at the center of the platform, that’d be great.” 
An elevated slab of pure gold rose from the clouds beneath your feet a little ways ahead of you. Timidly, you made your way over and onto the platform as instructed. You were pleasantly surprised at the instant warmth that met the bottoms of your bare feet. 
“Pe-rr-fect!” With a flap of suddenly conjured wings, the gatekeeper floated down to hover right beside you. “Now, we just wait for Emily. She should be here in 3, 2, 1… .5 — ”
A loud clang startled you out of your skin for the second time, and you whipped around to face the woman that had spontaneously appeared in front of you.
She panted. “Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry! I didn't mean to be late!” 
The golden gates pulled back to reveal the white-haired newcomer in all her splendor. This other angel was bedecked in a floor-length white gown to match her downy-white hair and periwinkle-grey skin dotted with white freckles. A halo hung over her head, casting an eternal light over her large, bluish eyes that sparkled with mirth. 
Like the gatekeeping angel, her wings flapped behind her, but you noted how they seemed to flutter nervously. Or perhaps excitedly? 
“Welcome to Heaven!” She opened her arms toward you. “We’re so glad you’re here! I’m Emily, but you can call me Emmy, or E, or Millie. Whatever you want!” 
You waved dazedly. “Hi.” 
Emily stopped short of touching you, despite looking like she was about to wrap her arms around you in a hug. Instead, the angel bit her lower lip as she stared at you. 
“I really am sorry I was late. I got caught up talking with Sera, making sure everything was all ready for your arrival.” She gushed. “Thank you for greeting her, Peter!” 
Peter brightened. “Of course.” 
Emily turned back to you, buzzing with anticipation like a bumblebee. “Anyway, I’m sure you have tons of questions! No worries at all! I’m here to give you a tour and show you around your new home!”
You cautiously took the hand offered to you, and let yourself be led through the golden gate. 
— 
Heaven was very beautiful, and very clean. The polished golden floors and beautifully-crafted architecture, complete with smiling people of all races, sexes and species didn’t unwrench you from a nagging sense of confusion however. 
“Um. Emily?” You asked your companion — well, one of your companions. Peter had elected to join the two of you on your tour, commenting that he’d gotten someone to cover his eternal shift at the gate for the next few hours. 
“Yes! Yes?” She smiled at you encouragingly. No doubt, your silence, while it had not stopped her constant chatter, had been a downer in as far as engagement. 
“I’m… dead. Right?” You asked. “I mean that’s how one gets to Heaven, so obviously I am… right?”
The mood turned down at that, with Emily turning morose. “Yes, I’m afraid so.” 
“Okay, good. I mean — I’m dead, but I’m having a hard time remembering h-how it… happened.” You admitted, embarrassed. And a little afraid, if you were honest with yourself. “Is that… normal?”
Emily and Peter stopped on either side of you, twin looks of confusion on their poreless faces. 
Peter was quicker to recover. “Oh that can happen sometimes! Dying can be a very traumatic thing for the soul.” 
Emily seemed hesitant for the first time since you’d met her, but with a look from Peter, she seemed to gain resolve. “Yes, yeah. Lots of people forget… but you’ll remember in time, I’m sure!”
“But wait!” Emily gasped. “We could ask Sera about it!” 
She clapped her hands together joyfully, while Peter’s expression teetered on uncertainty. 
“Uh, Em? I don’t think —” 
“We were headed her way anyway.” Emily nodded as if affirming her own plan. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to help us figure this out!”
The angel yanked you forward in her quest to get to Sera (whoever that was) and had you stumbling on pure fluff to catch up with her. 
Many angels raced to get out of the way as Peter called out in alarm, but apart from shouldering a particularly tall angel clad in a chasuble, you were unable to stop or slow down. 
“Hello child.”
The Seraphim (“Sera.” Emily had urged) was so large that you had to crane your neck up to see her face. 
She was beautiful in the most ethereal way. To look upon her was to look at a celestial body and feel your own insignificance dragging you down and swallowing you whole. 
Your surroundings — a gold and white antechamber with delicately carved archways and a grand war table in its center — did not help. 
Emily laid a hand on your shoulder with concern before you realized that you’d been paralyzed by the scene before you and had yet to say a word.
You stuttered a hello, and Sera’s stoney face softened into an understanding smile. “Be not afraid, my friend. I mean no harm.” 
You returned the smile, albeit shakily. 
Emily squeezed your shoulder. “Sera? We have a question.”
The Seraphim gestured with open palms. 
“Well, we were going around Heaven, and just kind of talking before um… well…”
“Emily, dear. Please speak up.” Sera’s command was gentle but firm.
Emily bounced in her spot, unable to keep herself from floating up from the ground. 
“Shesaysshedoesn’trememberhowshegothere!” She blurted out.
You and Sera both stared at Emily for a long moment, trying to process what exactly she had said. Sera had opened her mouth once more before the grand entrance into the committee room was slammed open and all heads turned to the unwelcome sound. 
The angel with the chasuble came barrelling in, and the omnipresent sunlight that touched everything around you glinted off the sharp black horns winding down from his skull. Or was it a skull? The face of this particular angel looked odd to you, with its smooth, glassy surface and flickering pixelated expression that replaced natural features like lips, cheeks and a nose. 
Their appearance looked at odds with everything else you’d seen in Heaven, regardless of the holy garbs they wore. Everything, while somewhat fantastical on the basis of it actually existing, resembled the organic and natural, and this figure stuck out like a sore thumb in comparison. 
“What the actual fuck? She’s actually here?!” The abrasive, aggressive voice that came out his digitized face shook you from your musings. 
You shrunk back toward Emily and Sera, instinctively trying to get away from the rapidly approaching figure that also towered over you. He glared in your direction, as if you were an insect he wanted to squash, and only when you lost the nerve to meet his gaze did you realize there was another angel behind him. This one wore a similar face, though they were smaller, slimmer and straight-backed. They wore darker vestments and jet-black horns as well, with wings nearly as jagged and hardlined. 
“Adam,” Sera greeted hesitantly. “I don’t believe you were summoned.” 
“Why is she here?” ‘Adam’ demanded, as if the Seraphim had never spoken. His companion stood firmly just a pace behind him, arms behind their back. 
Their combined presence was so off-putting, and your brow furrowed with mounting confusion. Sera’s shoulders slowly rose and fell as she sighed, disapproval in the hard line of her mouth. 
“That was part of the agreement.” 
“Uh, yeah — with the Devil!” His demeanor completely threw you off, so much so that you didn’t catch the full extent of what he’d said. “Who the fuck keeps their end of the deal with that asshole?”
You couldn’t hold back a scoff of disbelief, even as your confusion deepened. ‘The devil?’ 
A hand wrapped around your forearm, making you turn to look at Emily, who’d once more moved beside you. Her ire was clear, though much less contained than Sera’s. “Who are you to question Divine Judgement?” 
Adam laughed condescendingly. “Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m the fucking CEO of Divine Judgement, kid!” 
“We are literally judges, juries and executioners in Hell.” The other angel chimed in, flat and resolute. The smirk that curved her stitched lips gave away some covert sense of satisfaction in that statement. 
“Executioners?” Emily’s voice rose a few octaves. “What’re you talking about?” 
She was legitimately bewildered. 
“Enough.” Sera stepped in. “Adam, this has never been, nor was it ever, a debate. If you have a grievance, you can take it up with the counsel at a later date.” 
“My ‘grievance’ isn’t gonna fucking wait for this bitch to fuck shit up!” Adam pointed at you with a poisonous claw. 
“Excuse me?” You demanded in sheer disbelief. “Who do you think you are?!” 
The grin Adam shot you was more a bearing of one’s teeth, which further threw you for a loop as, again, his face was completely digital. “I’m fuckin’ Adam. The First Man. The Original Dick. I’ve been here since the fucking beginning. I earned this shit.” 
“Who do you think you are?” He asked, advancing on you. “You think you can whore yourself out to the worst being in all of Creation and still take up space in Heaven? Are you fucking kidding me?” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your gaze narrowed, a stark contrast to the whirlpool of thoughts swirling in your mind at his accusation. 
“HA! Seriously?” His face was mere inches from yours. “What? D’you open your legs for fuckin’ everyone? Have a hard time keeping track of all the brats you pop outta that used vag? Guess so, if even dying for one doesn’t ring your fuckin’ bell.” 
“ADAM!” 
Adam’s sharp grin dropped, expression dawning from stunned to petulant as Sera’s thunderous exclamation reverberated through the vast space between your unusual group. You swore the clouds trembled beneath your feet, but it was hard to care too much with the insinuations that had been thrown at you rattling within your being. 
Dying for… 
“Charlotte.” Your eyes widened to the size of saucers. Air escaped your lungs - which shouldn’t have been possible, but you were already dealing with one crisis upon the epiphany of what you’d been missing this whole time. 
A blitz of images and sordid emotions saw you struggling, legs falling out from under you as the weight of how exactly you’d died forced you down. Emily’s distressed cry sounded from above you, melding with Lucifer’s frantic pleas for you not to go as life drained from your body. 
The Seraphim’s shadow engulfed your broken form while you panicked on Heaven’s floor. 
Lucifer sat hunched in his chair, your cold, lifeless hand hanging in his. 
Charlotte had stopped crying and presumably gone to sleep. He hadn’t put up any fight when Cass took her to a crib set up beside your… your bed.
That was who knows how long ago. And apart from Cass coming over the check on his daughter, the elderly worshippers had left him to grieve in peace. 
The King had tried to convince himself to get up. He needed to take Charlotte and leave. Go home. The sight of you in death was unbearable — but he could not move. 
He couldn’t leave you, even if you were no longer there in spirit. The You he loved the most, your soul, was gone and had been gone for some time now. 
You had gone to the one place he could not follow. 
Lucifer’s hanged head slowly rose. His thoughts were starting to become more coherent — what if you hadn’t gone where you were meant to? 
Heaven was a paradise bound by rules, but it was also a cold bureaucracy where things could fall through the cracks. 
And any dealings with him — Heaven’s sworn nemesis — were likely to be one of those things. 
Slow-building anger replaced the gold in his veins as Lucifer considered that his own Deal was not met. If it wasn’t, that meant you were down Below, alone and afraid and suffering. 
The Devil’s claws cricked, fist clenching as he glared at the wall opposite him. 
He would not let you Suffer. Not you. Never you.
And you weren’t here anymore. He needed to know where you’d gone. Now. 
Rising from his seat, Lucifer laid your hand at your side and ignored the tears that stung his eyes at the sight of your ashen face. 
He touched your brow, lingering only to memorize the way your lashes rested against your sinking cheeks before turning to Charlotte’s cradle. 
She was sleeping peacefully, unaware of his anguish, of the great loss that not only he had endured but she as well. It made Lucifer’s heart ache. 
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. 
Then, with a sudden snap of his fingers, Lucifer conjured the presents he’d made especially for her. 
The twin goats appeared, suspended in the air behind him. Lucifer didn’t bother to turn until their bodies were triple their original size, fur changing from felt to coarse fiber, eyes glowing as they were transformed from button to bonafide, and their bat-like wings began to beat at the air, blowing back the gossamer of Charlotte’s bassinet. 
Lucifer looked between the two magicked goats after kissing his daughter’s fragile head. 
“Stay here and protect the baby.” He ordered. “Charlotte is your top priority, do you understand?” 
The two creatures nodded simultaneously, determination set in their naturally adorable maws. 
“If anything happens, just bleat, and I’ll be back in the wink of an eye.” Lucifer’s wings extended and propelled him upward with a great stroke. 
The King of Hell disappeared through an enormous portal, sparking and swirling reddish-gold before vanishing behind him. 
*** Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee, @aquaamythest96, @0strawberrysorbet0, @fluffy-koalala, @washeduphazbin, @rebecca-hvnstn, @velvette3, @kermitdafroggy, @wpdarlingpan, @apatcheworkofproblems,
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leclercings · 1 month
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I'm Yours | Oscar Piastri
Genre: Fluff
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader
Summary: When the thing with Oscar turns into more than a crush...
A/N: This is longer than I expected it to be!! Hope you guys enjoy it. Cheers to Oscar for a great performance so far in his home GP!
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You smile at yourself in the mirror. You're wearing a little black dress with nothing left to imagination, teamed with black pumps and winged eyeliner.
Your signature look of the day is complete.
It's Lando’s birthday and a few people from the McLaren Team have been invited, including you, Y/N Brown, the CEO’s daughter.
You wonder... If your dad would've seen you wearing this dress he wouldn't have approved at all, but who needs permission?
And anyway, you have a certain hottie to impress.
You're riding along with your best friend from the team, Y/Bestfriend/N. All of you are staying in Las Vegas for the Grand Prix and Lando thought that throwing a birthday bash for his 24th would be fitting to boost the team spirits up.
There's a knock on the door. It's your best friend. She looks killer in her red dress, making you a little conscious and underdressed.
“Wow, Y/N. You look stunning.”
“Thanks love. You don't look too bad yourself,” you respond cheekily. “Have you booked the cab?”
“Yep,” she replies, popping the ‘p’. “It's ten minutes away.”
“Cool. ID check?”
Your best friend nods confidently as she skims through her purse. Her expression falters just as she realises that she's forgotten to get her ID. As always.
“Shit, I almost forgot. I'll get it.”
You laugh, taking your clutch and room key. You know how clumsy she is.
“I'll wait near the lifts.”
She walks towards her room and you go in the opposite direction, near the lifts.
You do a double take. Oscar is right there. You back away a little, hoping he hasn't seen you and just as you turn away you're interrupted by the Australian accent that you know too well.
“Hey there, Y/N.”
You freeze.
“H-hey,” you catch your breath.
Oscar gives you a onceover and your cheeks turn red.
“You look gorgeous.”
You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your heart beating fast.
“Thanks,” you reply timidly and you hear footsteps approaching.
“Found it! Oh, hi Oscar.”
Your best friend joins you both. She gives you a teasing smile.
“Hi! All set?” Oscar asks, just as the lift door opens. Being the gentleman that he is, he gestures the ladies to go first.
“Yes,” she replies. “How are you going?”
“Lando's downstairs, waiting. We've a car on rent. Would you like to join us?”
Your best friend nods. You nudge her.
“We've a cab waiting,” you reply.
“It's not a big deal. Come, Y/N.”
You give in to his cute expression.
“I'll text Lando.”
Your best friend nudges you quite harshly, and you wince in pain.
“What was that for?” You whisper.
“Sorry, what?” Oscar turns around and asks.
“Nothing,” your best friend cuts in.
The lift door opens. The three of you walk to the front of the hotel. Lando is waiting at the gate.
“Happy birthday Lando,” you and your best friend wish him. He gives you both a lopsided smile.
“I hear that you'll be joining us?” Lando says, just as the driver brings the car.
Lando sits in the passenger seat. You, your best friend and Oscar decide to occupy the back seat. He opens the car door for you. “After you.”
You and your best friend sit inside and he follows. His warm body touches yours, and you shiver.
“Cold?” Oscar asks you. “Mate, turn the heat a little up.”
Lando does as instructed.
“Did y'all pregame?” Your best friends speaks, connecting her phone to the car's Bluetooth.
“We thought it'll be better to get sloshed at the nightclub.”
Your best friend nods in approval.
“It'll be a fun night,” she winks at Lando who's staring at her from the rear view mirror. He cackles, making you all laugh too.
“What should I play?” Your best friend opens Spotify.
“What about The Weeknd?” Lando replies, before turning the volume up.
“Oh come on, how typical,” you roll your eyes.
Oscar is looking outside, lost in thoughts.
“What would you recommend?” He suddenly turns to you.
“U-um,” your mind goes blank.
Your best friend nudges you yet again.
“Let's stick to The Weeknd, okay?” She breaks the silence.
Within half an hour, you reach the nightclub. It's crowded inside. And really humid.
Lando and Oscar being the perfect bodyguards, guide you all to the table that the McLaren team has booked.
“Hi!” Everyone cheers as you all enter.
L
You earn a few stares. Nobody has seen you like this- so sultry and seductive. It's a nice change from the usual, but one that makes you a little conscious as well.
Oscar says something but you can't hear it.
“What?” You shout at the top of your voice.
You struggle to hear his reply.
Something something… drink…
“I'm going to the bar to order!”
You look around to find Y/Bestfriend/N, but she's busy talking to the McLaren boys. Not wanting to disturb her, you make your way to the bar.
“One Pina Colada, please.”
The bartender nods, and starts preparing your drink.
Someone comes right next to you. You smell alcohol, and it makes you feel nauseous.
“Hi there, sexy. You look gorgeous.”
A guy, flat out drunk, tried to make a conversation with you. You ignore him.
“Oh come on, darling. Don't be a tease.”
You give him a stare. He smiles creepily.
“Let me pay for your drink, darling.”
He takes out his card and you shake your head.
“I'm good, thanks. Please leave me alone.”
You take your drink and try to walk back to where the McLaren team is, but he stops you, holding your hand.
“Is there a problem here?”
This surprises you. Oscar has made his way to the bar.
“Why don't you go back to the table, love? I'll deal with this.”
You give him a grateful smile. The man goes away.
“Thanks Oscar,” you tell him, sipping your drink.
“Anytime, Y/N.”
The drink is strong. Being a lightweight, you start getting a little tipsy.
“You good?” He asks you, and you nod.
“Would you like to go outside for a little bit? It's hot in here.” You fan yourself and he gives a positive response.
You both go outside, towards the hotel side of the nightclub.
“Thanks for helping me out there.” You tell him, acknowledging what he did.
“It's no big deal, Y/N. Anything for you.”
That makes you blush. The conviction with which he responds makes you feel special. You wonder what else can he do for you… but never mind.
“Shall we get back?” He motions, and you follow.
Hours pass by. Now you're standing in the middle of the dance floor with Lando and your best friend. Your gaze lands on Oscar who is intently watching you, his expression unreadable.
You beckon him. You're not like this usually, but the alcohol is giving you the confidence to do so.
Oscar, as if on cue, comes and starts dancing right next to you. You breathe in his musky cologne- which is as intoxicating as the alcohol itself.
You lick your lips and loosen up your hair. Oscar gulps, his gaze on your lips.
“Like what you see?” You tease him, inching in closer.
You can see so many emotions rising behind his eyes. He puts his hands around your waist, pulling you in.
“Love it,” he responds. His lips centimetres away and above yours.
You gasp at the proximity.
Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's the adrenaline, maybe it's the heat of the moment, but he suddenly crashes his lips against yours.
You take a sharp breath in as his lips passionately kiss yours, before deciding to give in completely. His hands are firm on your back. Yours are in his hair, tousled.
You're confused. What is happening?
You pull away to catch your breath. He smiles at you, pressing his forehead against yours.
It might just be a kiss for him, but it means everything to you.
“Did we just-?” Before you can complete the sentence Oscar goes in for the second round.
Lando and your best friend cheer.
“Finally!” Your best friend squeals with happiness.
“Great job, mate.” Lando pats Oscar on the back.
Oscar is blushing, and so are you.
“I've always liked you, you know?” He whispers in your ear. “Be mine?”
Your heart is filled with joy. Of course you'd like to be his. You take a deep breath in and nod.
“I'm yours.”
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gojos-thot-patrol · 9 months
Note
Geto/gojo/reader “I can’t believe there’s only one bed” and HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY
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THANK YOOUUU!! So, this one really sang to me, I went ahead and combined the two, mostly because they are very similar. Thank you both for the prompt!!
Now Presenting...
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Starring: A flirty Satoru Gojo, and a tired Suguru Geto
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Your body protested every step you took as you walked into the hotel, screaming at you to lay down and accept the sweet embrace of death. Okay, maybe death was a little extreme, but you could definitely have gone for a light coma in that moment. A yawn you had been suppressing came forward, and you tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes.
“Awe, well aren’t you cute when you’re sleepy.” Gojo teased with a smile, earning him a glare from you. 
“Shut up Satoru.” This entire trip he kept making note of how cute you were, and how you needed to be protected, and at this point, he was on the brink of losing vocal cord privileges.
“Flirt later you two, let’s just get checked in.” Suguru muttered as he ushered the two of you to the front desk. He tried to summon a friendly smile for the clerk, but it didn’t touch his tired eyes. “Hi! Uh, we should have two reservations under Masamichi Yaga.” He said, really hoping they didn’t ask for an id. He told his teacher that he should probably put the rooms under one of the three people going on the mission, but the man was more muscle than brain.
The young worker started typing on the computer, before confusion fell over her features. “Um, I found the reservations, but it says it’s only for one room?” She asked. You were a bit taken back by that, and you could tell from the looks on their faces the boys were too. You thought for sure you’d at least get your own room. But, then again, if getting a room with 3 beds was cheaper than getting 2 separate rooms, it did make sense for Yaga to take that route, the penny pinching bastard. 
“Uh, yea that should be fine, that’s us.” Suguru shrugged, too tired to really argue. Much to your relief (and concern) the woman nodded and happily gave over the room key, not bothering to ask for an ID. What a stand up place. The three of you dragged your tired worn bodies over to the elevator. Well, two of you did. Satoru felt fine, because of course he did. And because he had no problem filling the elevator with whatever came to his head. You shared a look with Suguru.
How do we shut him up? Your eyes asked.
Pillow over his face as he sleeps Sugurus eyes offered.
No, I want him to shut up now. 
Oh, that’s not gonna happen. For now, we just have to endure him.
You sighed, knowing he was right and hating that fact at the same time. Thankfully, the elevator door opened, and the room wasn’t far from it. Geto unlocked the door, and you and Gojo practically fell over him to get into it. You quickly went to grab your toothbrush, and Gojo went to fiddle with the tv. It was Suguru who noticed it first.
“Uh, guys? I don’t see another bed.” He said. You and Gojo stopped cold in your tracks, heads whipping to the center of the room and- yep. That was one bed, and only one bed. Not even so much as a pull out couch in sight. 
“OH ho ho!!” Satoru laughed, launching himself onto the bed and folding himself into what you think was meant to be a sexy pose. “I’ve read fan fiction before, I know what happens here!” He cackled, “Be gentle with me, I’m a virgin” He swooned, acting like a helpless flower. 
“I call sleeping in the bathtub.” Suguru said, checking out of this battle before it became a war.
“No, Don’t!” Gojo whined, reaching out to him, “The bathtub is cold and hard, I'm warm and soft. Unless you want me to be hard.” He winked. 
“I can’t believe there’s only one fucking bed, who sets this shit up?!” You snapped, aggressively waving your hands at the bed.
“God.” Gojo responded.
“Bad fan fiction writers.” Geto retorted, apparently salty about his characterization in my past fics. 
“Satoru get out of the bed.” You demanded, shaking your head. You did not just get out of a fight with ten, count em, ten first grade curses to sleep on the floor.
“How about you get in the bed?” He purred.
“I will, as soon as you get out of it.” you scoffed, fighting back a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
“Why not get in it with me?” He grinned at you, opening his arms wide as an invitation. 
“I’d rather sleep in the bathtub.” You replied.
“Not an option, I already called it!” Suguru reminded you.
“Why don’t you sleep with him?” You accused more than asked, “He’s your man!”
“He is most definitely not my man!” Geto rebuffed the statement, shaking his head.
“He’s actually my man, we just haven’t taken our relationship to the next level yet.” Satoru purred with a cheeky wink to Geto to really seal the deal. Geto rolled his eyes.
“I’m going to bed, goodnight.” He said, going to grab a pillow from the bed, only for Satoru to grab his arm.
“Come on guys, don’t be silly! This bed is big enough for all of us!” He argued, “We all trust each other, right?!” Gojo paused long enough to look at both you and Geto, but not long enough for an answer. He already knew it. “We know no ones going to try any funny business, we trust each other with our lives there's no reason for any of us to be uncomfortable tonight!” you and Suguru shared more glances. Gojo may be annoying, but when he was right he was right. The only thing really keeping the three of you from sharing was standard social conventions. 
“Fine, but if any of you touch me I’m throwing you off the balcony.” You warned. Geto sighed and ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the bed.
“I just don’t get why we weren’t warned about this.”
“I mean, it kind of explains the weird look she gave us.” You noted, sitting on the other side of Gojo.
“Yay, sleepover!” Gojo cheered, grabbing onto Suguru because he was the one that didn’t threaten him, “Fair warning, I’m a cuddler.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows for emphasis. 
“I knew I should have just slept in the tub.” Geto sighed.
🛏️🛏️🛏️
In the morning, you were a tangled mess of limbs and drool with your two best friends. Any warning against cuddling being tossed to the wind in exchange for the comfort human warmth brings. You hated to admit it, but it was the best sleep you had gotten in weeks. Gojo woke up not long after you, smiling softly, slowly coming back to life.
“Good morning,” He said. You shook your head and covered his face with a pillow.
“It was before you started talking.” You muttered.“It’s 6 am, go back to bed.” Suguru begged, not happy to have been woken up.
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hanihazeljade · 3 months
Text
Disgustingly Green
Tim got de-aged at the age of 8. The age where he is the exact carbon copy of his parents ruthlessness. Can Batman, Nightwing and Robin can handle him?
(CW: verbal abuse, wrong parenting)
Part 2: Skill Issue
Part 3: Forced Playdate
Timothy doesn't know where he is. He knows that he fall asleep on his bed and not on some clinics. He slowly rise up to look around his surroundings.
His vision is still hazy and he rubbed his eyes with his fist as he yawns. He heard someone cooed before him. It is a grown up man that he doesn't know.
With that in his mind, he shook away all of his sleepiness. Was he kidnapped? Again? Oh no, his parents wouldn't like it.
"Hi Little Timmy, how you feeling?" The man asked him but he just looked at the man. He has blue eyes and black hair and also really really handsome. Maybe he wasn't kidnap?
"I am fine, thank you for asking." he politely replied, on reflex.
"Do you know who I am?" the man smiled at him and he just shook his head. "I'm Dick, your brother." the man, Dick, introduced himself. His face must be formed some confusion when the man chuckled, "My parents doesn't know that there is a double meaning with that, if that really bothers you, you can call me Richard."
"How about we go up? the man—Richard, said. He nodded, he doesn't always like hospital beds.
He was about to jumped out of the bed when Richard just grabbed him and carry him. He let it be, after all he likes it, noone touched him for weeks now and he missed having skin contact.
Going up the stairs and coming out of a grandfather's clock, weird, he look out of the window and he knows where he is. There is only one place like this that he could possibly be. He is still in Gotham, in Bristol still but he doesn't know which house.
The man— Richard— carry him till they end up in a long table, probably the dining room. In there, they're some people seating and he knows the man who is seating on the head seat, it's Bruce Wayne. He knows his face because his mother always pointed out his stupid behaviour but good thing is that he has some good looks.
"Is that Tim?" Bruce Wayne knows his name, holy cupcakes.
"Yep. As cute and light as ever." Richard said as he keep on cooing to him and Timothy doesn't appreciate that.
Richard put him down in a chair and a butler comes and bring him some cookies. "He wants to eat because it seems like he didn't eat for so long. "Go on, dig in Master Tim."
"Is there walnuts here?" he asked and the butler agreed.
"Yes there is a walnuts in there."
Tim pouted, he is allergic to walnuts. "I am sorry, Mister Butler, but I am allergic to walnuts."
The butler seems shocked at his claimed but quickly dissolved his shocked and gave him a chocolate chip cookie. "I hope this one is not something you are allergic with."
"Thank you, Mister Butler." he said as he take a bite. The cookie is delicious.
After the snack, Richard bring him to the room that he apparently has been using here. But he doesn't remember that. But hey, his parents won't be back till Thanksgiving and they have cookies here, he will escaped the week before Thanksgiving.
++++++++
Tim was watching a documentary about the alps and different flora that has been keeping up with the extreme weather of it, when a kid, definitely more older than he is starts bothering him.
"Tt. Of course Drake will be incompetent enough to be a hindrance in his night life." the kid said, behind him is Richard and Mister Wayne.
Timothy Jackson Drake knows that is a jab to him, and all he could remember is that his father kept on saying, "If they hit you as Drake, you hit them back twice." and her mother added, "Not physically, Timothy but rather used highly intelligent words that may hurt them. Unless they do it first." and those words were imprinted on him.
Timothy paused the documentary, and then walked closer to the boy that was insulting him, and when they are foot apart he stopped.
"Mister, you have such a vibrant green eyes." he said, "But my mother said to me that green is the colour of disgust, that's why she gave birth to a blue eyed kid. Is your mother disgusted of you?" he asked. The room was silent, no one decided to say anything after that, the kid who insulted him has a hurt in his face, but Timothy is not done yet.
"But green is also a colour of evil in Disney, like when Ursula is trying to steal Ariel's voice or when Scar pushed Mufasa in the cliff and also the green poison apple in Snow White, so is that why your Mother left you because you are evil and disgusting like them, or you are evil and mean like them because you are disgusting and left by your Mother?" he said. He strike back twice and that is his goal. His mother would be so proud.
"Tim!" a voice behind him yelled, it was Mister Wayne.
"Yes, Mister Wayne?" he smiled at the man.
"We don't insult people here, okay? Apologise to Damian, now." Mister Wayne demanded, making Tim to frowned. He is not in the wrong though?
"I am not insulting anyone, Mister Wayne. I am merely saying my observations of him." he said while looking at the adult that is so much larger than him, but Mister Wayne is a dumb man, he always broke his bones and spills wine to other people so maybe he wouldn't get it.
"However, if it really bothers you..." Tim said and he looked at Damian, "I am sorry that your mother hates you because you are disgusting and mean and evil." he added as he looked back to the stunned Bruce Wayne.
"If you excuse me, I am exhausted to talk to anyone here. You should know better Mister Wayne, you are an adult." he said and then he walked towards to his room, leaving the three stunned. Well at least he made his point.
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cameronspecial · 4 months
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Hey! Could u do a fic of rafe x reader and just him being the best boyfriend ever I just can’t find enough fics about ooc rafe! Maybe him just being like a super protective, sweet, and like touchy boyfriend. I absolutely eat up all of ur writing, it’s so good!
Hammocks, Cookies and Massages
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of Them Going to Have Sex
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.5K
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Y/N swings in the hammock like a child, trying to get it the highest it can go. Her giggles reach Rafe’s ears as he walks out to her backyard. The image of her flipping over flashes through his mind and like a prophecy, he watches the scene slowly unfold in real life. He dashes to her side, sliding himself under her to cushion her fall. He lets out a small grunt at her impact. Her head rests on his chest while his arms wrap around her. “It’s super nice that you are protective of me, Rafey, but sometimes you have to let me learn from my mistakes,” she whispers to him. He shakes his head, “Sorry, my love, I can’t do that. I love protecting you. It makes me feel useful.” “You can be useful in other ways,” she seductively giggles, getting back on her feet. Her eyes dart to the hammock with wagging eyebrows. Rafe gets up to sit on the hanging fabric, “You are so right. We’ve never done it in the hammock before.” He pulls her on top of him with laughter. 
The room is quiet as she works on a document for work. Her work day is about to end, but she knows it will probably be a few more hours until her boyfriend gets home. Fear goes through her when the front lock turns to open. She scrambles off of the couch and grabs onto the closest item. Unfortunately, it is a pillow. Rafe walks through the door to see his girlfriend ready to fight. “What are you doing?” he teases. Her arms drop, “Why are you home so early? I wasn’t expecting you.” He goes over to her with a familiar pastel pink box in hand. “Is that what I think it is?” She reaches for the box that he lets her take. “Yep, I was missing you, so I thought I would come home early. Who needs work anyway? And I happened to pass by your favourite bakery, so I had to get you a cookie,” he explains, watching her eat the cookie. She gives him a knowing look, “We both know that the bakery is totally out of your way home.”
“Okay, I didn’t pass by, but I just wanted to make you happy.”
“Rafe, can you please move over a little bit, please? You are kinda crushing me,” she says from under his hold. He scoots with a pout, “But I want to be touching you.” “Well… You can give me a message,” she offers, arching her aching back to release some tension. A grin paints itself on his face and he turns her onto her stomach. He tugs her shirt up until it pools at the dip of her shoulder blades. His fingers start to press into her skin, pulling a moan out of her. The warmth from her skin reddens his cheeks because he loves intimate moments like these. When it is just him and the woman he loves. 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @victory-in-the-llama
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