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leahluvr · 1 month

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doesn’t matter - alexia putellas x reader

summary: alexia doesn’t pay attention to you

themes: smut 18+

despite the plethora of photos uploaded online that made alexia appear as though she was perpetually glued to her phone, she actually tended to avoid the device. the only reason she’d ever be on it was to constantly check on you, eli, alba, or any teammate that had recently been injured, asking if they were okay. other than that, she rarely touched her phone.

at home, she’d either rewatch her matches on television to revise and analyse them or immerse herself in a book. so when it came to nights tucked in before bed, you’d be the engrossed in your phone, scrolling away, while alexia would be sat silently, reading beside you.

but just like any passion alexia withheld, she was a deeply focused individual. she read over every single word without skipping any parts, never accepting a distraction to break her concentration on her choice of leisure.

so on this night, you lay on your side beside her, scrolling and giggling at a tiktok every so often, while your girlfriend kept at her immaculate posture, reading her novel in complete silence.

“baby, oh my god, look at this!” you chuckled, shuffling up towards her upright body and shoving your high-brightness phone in her face.

alexia’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration as she purposely dodged your phone and manoeuvred her book around your hand to look back at the page.

without looking away from the sheet of paper in front of her, her voice spoke up.

“espere, cariño,” she grumbled.

with a huff, you grabbed the duvet and roughly pull it toward your side of the bed whilst rolling over to face the other away, away from alexia.

“it wasn’t that funny anyway.” you mumbled, upset that you’re girlfriend obviously didn’t give a flying fuck about what you wanted to show her.

all you wanted was to crack a smile from the spaniard, who somehow always had a slight scowl on her face. your favourite thing was to see her face brighten up in a smile or hear her laughter, so you were disappointed with your failed attempt to see the happiness shine through. in fairness you were overreacting slightly.

the sounds to be heard in the room were the occasional stifle from you, music or the voice of someone talking playing slightly loudly from your phone and the sound of paper being turned by alexia.

after roughly ten minutes, alexia had finally finished the chapter she’d so desperately been anticipating to read all evening. she closed the book shut, reaching over and placing it on the beside table before flicking her bedside lamp off. all of her attention was now ready to be dedicated to you.

“amor,” she said quietly, moulding her body against yours in a spooning action and sliding her large hand underneath your pyjama top, placing it on your stomach. “what is the video you wanted to show me?”

you shivered, because she was whispering in your ear and the tips of her fingers were cold against your bare skin. you also did your best to ignore her like she had done to you 10 minutes ago.

“mamacita,” she whined.

you blushed profusely at the nickname, but stood your ground, not giving in to her antics and not letting her know her methods were in fact working. even when her hand was now slowly trailing down towards the waistband of your underwear, you eyed at your phone, tiktoks still playing, though now you weren’t paying a cent of attention to it.

“el vídeo, por favor?” she asked again, politely. though her actions were nothing but polite: she had begun to nibble at your earlobe, then down towards the side of your neck. suckling and tugging to get your attention.

“it doesn’t matter anymore, i scrolled past it ages-“ the tone of your voice wavered and finally hitched when alexia’s right hand had snuck under your panties.

“perdonamè bebè, i had to finish my chapter,” she whispered. her hand wavered closer towards your aching core, before she dipped her fingers in your wetness. “mierda, so wet.”

alexia very easily glided her fingers through your folds and you struggling to keep in a filthy moan, instead, whining at her gentle touch.

she fiddled and teased at your clit, before inching the tip of her middle finger into you. she stilled it there, stopping all of her movements.

“baby, please don’t tease,” you beg, rotating your body onto your back.

you watched as she got up from lying down, moving to kneel below your lower body and between your thighs. the edges of her mouth transitioned into that smirk. the smirk that practically melted your body every time she plastered it onto her face.

she hooked her fingers under the waistband of your underwear, tossing them onto the floor, for them to be dealt with another time.

“oh you want this, nena?” she asked mockingly and without warning, plunging a singular finger into you.

she played at your cunt, slowly pushing her finger in and out. everything sounded awfully pornographic all thanks to the moans you now let out with no remorse and the squelching that came with alexia’s finger toying at you.

“wow, tan vacío.” alexia laughed, pressing another finger into you, joining the lonely one that was doing close to nothing when it came to making you close.

with just two of alexia’s fingers you feel closer to full, because her fingers are just so big. they’re almost double the size of yours and just thinking about them turns you on.

alexia then leaned over and latched her lips over one of your perked nipples, after with one hand, had bunched your shirt around your neck to give herself a better view.

whilst sucking, she swirled her tongue around your nipple. you were really gone t this point, throwing your head back in pleasure.

“please,” you begged, pushing you hips up into alexia’s hand to get some added friction.

alexia hummed against your skin before letting go with a loud ‘pop’ and leaning backwards, taking in and admiring the sight of you, that she had control of.

“please what?”

“more,” you shuddered, literally desperate for more.

she added a third finger, earning a guttural moan from you, happy that she was fulfilling your request.

this time, she moved her fingers in and out a rabid speed, working you up to get you close. but to your mere disappointment she slowed down.

“another one?” she rasped, her spanish accent now strong with exhaustion, waiting for the nod of your head before squeezing her pinky finger along with all her other fingers into your pussy. that made you let out a moan that even people living two floors above your shared apartment could’ve heard you.

she began to pump into you slowly, then increasing her pace when you had opened up more. you could only let it wash over you, squeezing your eyes shut and enjoying the waves of euphoria that fell through you.

as your climax got closer, your grasp on the sheets beneath you got tighter and tighter, knuckles turning white.

“ale, fuck i’m close,” you managed to breathe out, your legs gradually closing in on each other.

the pleasure was overwhelming, the knot in your stomach tightening, while all you did was lay there and took her pounded fingers.

“cum, cariño,” she stared at you in awe, the sound of her voice tipped you over and your body let go, tremors pulsing from your orgasm and mouth agape from the silent scream that escaped your mouth. she’d never get sick of the feeling.

“dios mio,” she gasped.

you looked down to see and feel technically half of her hand pulling out you. she turned her hand around to show you the creamy white arousal that had pooled into the cup of her hand after you had came.

her open mouth turned into a wicked smirk, impressed at her own nick of talent.

“…can you show me the the video now?” she asked, looking down at your sex-exhausted body.

“ale, what? no.”

a/n: and that’s kind of a wrap for me! this’ll be my last proper post for a while

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas one shot #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #woso community #espwnt x reader #barca femeni x reader #alexia putellas

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ceilidho · 9 months

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prompt: ex special forces ghost working as a “travel companion for hire” and reader hires him because she’s too nervous to go solo travelling

It’s not the first time you’ve been somewhere on your own, but it’s the first time you’ve realized that maybe solo trips aren’t for you.

It’s in Germany, three drinks in and stumbling back to your hotel room, paranoia gripping you every time you pass a dark alleyway or take a right onto a deserted street. It’s the man walking your way on the same side of the street that has you stuffing your hand into your purse, clammy fingers gripped tight around your keys.

On the flight home, you’re wiped. Beat. Finally untethered from a week’s worth of anxiety slowly reaching a boiling point. You’ve traveled on your own before, but it’s the first time you can remember being acutely aware of your vulnerability. Granted, before this trip, it’s not like you’d traveled all that much on your own, especially outside of the country.

Ghost comes as a recommendation from a friend of a friend. You’d hemmed and hawed about the whole ordeal the Monday after getting home from your trip—working the front desk at an auto-body shop means that there’s no shortage of people to talk to. The guy picking up his car (fender bender, a wicked crack down the front that’s since been fixed) listens to you gripe with an absent look on his face, but you’ve learned to tune those out. People will listen to you even in spite of their indifference when there’s nothing else to do.

“Y’know, I know a guy that does stuff like that,” he says, cutting you off halfway through another half-baked rant about airline fares these days. Your mouth puckers into something quizzical. Tell me more, it says without saying. “Ex-special forces. Left because of some medical thing, I think. Dunno. Anyway, he’s been all over the world—built like a brick shithouse, that one—and last I heard he was, uh, renting out his services.”

“Services?”

“Like, he’d go with you, hang back while you do your thing, but basically the muscle. There to back you up if someone fucks with you.”

You’re just fresh enough off your vacation (an entirely miserable week, lest you explain the whole thing all over again) to give him your number. He promises to put you in touch with the friend of a friend who’ll put you in touch with one Simon Riley. He then gives you shit about the price on his bill and you knock ten percent off begrudgingly because the piece of paper with your number written on it is still crumpled in his palm.

No good deed goes unpunished or whatever.

“He’s not actually in the country right now,” Laswell, the friend of a friend, explains over coffee, Biscoff cookies spread out on a little tea plate between the two of you. “Or the continent.”

“Where is he?”

“For the rest of the month? Indonesia. He’s supposed to be back on the ninth. Should I let him know that you’re interested in his services?”

It’s a toss up at first. The thought of sacrificing your dignity (he would be more or less your babysitter) for adventure is tricky. With the way the dates line up—when you plan on traveling and when he gets back to the UK—you also won’t have much time to make his acquaintance before setting off.

But there are places you want to go, sites you have scribbled down in a pocket-sized notepad folded up in the inner lining of your backpack. So you give her your permission and promise to join her and her wife for dinner sometime (repayment, and also it’s only been a few months since you moved, so you currently have a dearth of friends in your life anyway).

The first time you see him when he stops by your workplace, you can’t help the double take. It just doesn’t seem possible. You know from Laswell and the guy at the body shop that Ghost is ex-military, but you’d been expecting some buzz-cut, slightly smarmy army reserves guy, maybe six-foot and decently muscled. What you don’t expect is the tatted beast that’s near twice your size. Only the top half of his face is exposed, the rest hidden beneath a black mask; you think briefly of asking him about it, but chicken out under his withering stare.

He doesn’t seem impressed when he meets you. “What’s your list?”

“Um…just around Europe. I haven’t thought about it too much.”

He stares down at you. “You wanna hire me just to run around the continent?”

“I haven’t thought about it!”

“Well, best give it a think fast, doll. Haven’t got all day for you to figure it out.”

You do have to think fast. He doesn’t leave until you’ve spelled out exactly where you want to go, until he’s watched you book plane tickets over your shoulder, heavy at your back while sweat beads at the nape of your neck. He’s entirely too intimidating to be looming over you like that.

You watch him whip out his phone and fire off a couple of texts; your phone pings with an email telling you that you’ve been reimbursed for his flight and when you protest, he brushes you off by saying that he’ll invoice you for everything at the end of your trip.

Then what was promised falls into place. Free of burden, free of anxiety or restless energy, new possibilities open up to you: countries where you don’t speak the language; countries where the sites you want to see are spread out across a wide enough area that it warrants having a man packed beside you in a too-small taxi, his thigh a hot line against yours; hiking trips through national parks, where you don’t feel like you might slip down a hill and twist your ankle, stuck without water or cell service.

You only have two weeks worth of vacation, so you use them wisely. A week traveling across Switzerland and Austria, and then a week in Cairo to see the pyramids.

Ghost hangs back most of the time while you traipse around and do your own thing. You can feel him at your back when you approach the stands where the local vendors have set up shop, perusing silver trinkets and jewelry, only returning to your side when someone stands too close to you.

He fists a hand in a pickpocket’s shirt when they try for your purse, giving them a shake and sending them off.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” you mutter in his direction as you watch the young man scurry away. Not sure if you’re blushing or sunburnt.

“You hired me to deal with this shit my way. Don’t get mouthy now.”

You think it might be the former because while you might not be the best at reapplying sunscreen, Ghost has been gentle-parenting you this whole trip. He pulls you off into corners and growls down at you while squirting a dollop of sunscreen into the palm of his hand to spread across your face. You close your eyes when his rough hands trace over your face and breathe out heavily when he spins you around, big hands engulfing your shoulders and spreading down your back.

You don’t think it could get worse. It gets worse.

He won’t spring for his own room. You stare at him in disbelief in the lobby of the two star hotel where you’ve booked a room with a single bed. There’s a vending machine in the corner of the lobby that only sells coke (all of the other buttons are broken). One of the ceiling lights flickers on and off, an ominous buzz filling the room. Ghost doesn’t so much as blink.

“You didn’t tell me—I didn’t know that was my job,” you rebuff, anxiety a fist in your throat. You’ve already asked the front desk for another room, but they’ve been sold out for weeks, the woman at the front desk informed you with no small amount of pity. It’s the busy season; even two-star hotels get booked up in the dog days of summer.

He cocks an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Never had to before. My job isn’t to book shit.”

“I sent you my itinerary.”

“That’s not how I work, love. Where’s your room?”

It’s nothing short of humiliating to have him follow you back to your shabby little hotel room. Your hands shake when you unlock the door, opening it to something no bigger than a closet. You’d purposefully gotten a smaller room than you usually would, anticipating the cost of Ghost's invoice at the end of your trip. No good deed goes unpunished.

He ushers you into the room with a hand on your back, shutting the door behind him. You flick on the only light in the room, a bulbous thing hanging from the ceiling. No bedside lamp.

When he settles on the end of the only twin bed in the room, the bedframe groans under his weight. Your hands are already clammy. He’s already making himself at home, unbuckling his belt with a single hand; it makes you almost dizzy to look over at him so you try desperately to avert your eyes.

“At least wait until I’m in the other room,” you hiss, rifling through your suitcase faster to get your clothes for after your shower.

“Quit moping, love,” Ghost scolds, resting back on his elbows and toeing off his boots. “We’ll make it work. Just gonna have to get comfortable together.”

You scurry off to the bathroom with your pajamas clutched tight to your chest, paying no attention to the fact that he doesn’t sound as upset as you thought he might.

#cod mw2 #ceil writing #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod simon riley #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost/reader #ghost cod

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bluexiao · 1 year

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#second lead syndrome… or is it really?

–when they couldn’t confess their love for you, thinking you love someone else / seeing you with someone, looking in love, how would they react?

CHARACTERS. Albedo, Al-Haitham, Ayato, Cyno, Heizou, Kazuha, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer / Scaramouche, Xiao, Zhongli; gn! Reader

THEMES. Some angst, some crack, and some fluff, (pick your fighter); non-established relationship (yall are not together, just friends)

NOTES. first ever multi hc for this year! yayy happy new year everyone~

ZHONGLI knew he was a god, and you weren’t. And even still, a part of him dreaded—desired you in a way that he never thought he would in a human. You were supposed to be one of his people.

But now he loves you more than that. And there only lies the question if you love him too.

Yet despite the dread to hold you in his arms and to proclaim of such mortal feelings he had attained for you, he holds back and forces himself to watch from afar. For a god like him has no reason to meddle with the fate of humans like you—no matter how he claims to be a mortal himself with the name he bears now.

And so, all he could do was watch you from afar, eyes fixed as if he was watching a theatre play unfoldon a stage that he chose to be an audience to, whereas the main lovers fall for each other, and all he could do was watch.

But then your eyes suddenly met, your smile like the sun that scorched his being, a gentle wave with your haand as you cal his name; “Zhongli! Can you come over here, will you?” It wasn’t even his real name, merely an identity he had chosen to keep as a result of wanting to live a mortal life.

A mortal life.

Maybe he should try living more with that—with you, he hopes.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

XIAO has no use for love. Such a measly thing it is—to devote oneself to another with just mere feelings and empty words of promises.

And so Xiao stands on the top of the inn, looking down, his spear nowhere to be found, arms folded over his chest, and gaze directly focused–your way.

You were talking and laughing at a certain human, looking ever so comfortable as you usually do with him–or maybe you were always like this to others, and that includes him.

Then, as if you had sensed his presence, you looked up to where he was, but he was far gone, disappearing as if he was never there. If he had only stayed and seen the frown on your face, he wouldn’t have had to waste his time hiding away from you.

Xiao, he soon realizes, does have a use for love, as this ache inside his chest is something he cannot quell just by merely equipping his spear and defeating monsters.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

WANDERER was never such a patient man. And besides, he isn’t even human.

It took a while to accept his… circumstances, and once he does, he will be very obvious with his so-called “feelings”, usually sticking to your side most of the time and glaring at practically anyone who would so much as dare to glance your way.

And as much as he is always near you, he will eventually notice whoever you will pay attention to–especially ones that would be constantly haggling over your sight. But he doesn’t do anything about it–doesn’t confess, doesn’t try to talk and ask to confirm his suspicions. Does he need to? No. He does not need affirmations because he is perfect enough to not need one–a perfect being who did not need such things as “love”, or “partner”s.

The words will die down in his mind when he sees you with someone else, however, form already right beside you as he finds himself glaring at whoever it was, “Oh realy? I can do that ten times better than you can,” he’d bark, already mocking at everything that the person does or claims themselves to be. Don’t misunderstand the Wanderer, he just thinks that this stranger is just too useless, you don’t need to waste your time over them.

‘But they’re human, unlike you,’ a voice inside his mind would say, but bites his lips, not letting that slip through his mouth.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

VENTI sings praises and is full of love. He is the god of freedom and the wind. He is a bard for goodness’ sake.

“I am but a simple bard, how in Teyvat would they even see a person such as I am worthy of them?” he cried theatrically as he took a chug of his wine–or whatever it was in the bottle in his hand. But no matter how much he looks, the weight in his heart was very much real nonetheless, the memory of you with someone else plaguing his mind.

A god such as him losing to a mortal over your love. What could anyone possibly say if they hear of such a tale? Perhaps he may just end up writing a song of his broken heart to somehow ease the pain. At least thatw ay, he could Mora…

But one must never underestimate a god’s love… as eh might find himself crawling back to your arms tomorrow morning.

He has a lifetime to win your heart, after all.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

TIGHNARI felt his feelings of care for you were normal. Of course, maybe he only favors you among the rest, even against his fellow rangers.

And something so normal is not supposed to bother him even in times when he’s supposed to be focusing. The forest is an unpredictable and dangerous place.

“What seems to be bothering you, Master?”

He halts from his tracks and turns to the other, “It’s nothing, Collei.”

But it’s not really “nothing” if he ends up walking away after reprimanding you and one of the other rangers for “lazing around”. And yes, that same one who had been lurking around near you lately, especialy when he’s not around.

Clearly, there must be something going on between that person and you. Of course, he could not possibly let anyone be so lax with this work, even if it’s you.

“You’re probably jealous, aren't you, Master? Aren’t you and Y/n dating?”

Colei can see and atone to how the other freezes—his tail and ears as well, and all he could do was watch as Collei giggles at him while nudging him with her elbows.

“Master and Y/n look very good together, and don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret if that’s what you want!”

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

For once, KAZUHA was out of words.

Peace can be associated with silence, but silence is not always at peace–and now, the wind was completely silent.

“Not going to Y/n, kid?” Beidou stands next to him with crossed arms as they both have eyes focused your way. She sighs while she shakes her head, “Are you letting them go that easily?”

He feels his stomach drop, but the ghost of a smile on his lips masks the feelings he has inside. “They don’t belong to anyone but themselves, and that includes me,” he looks away and turns around, the breeze slapping his face just as much as reality does, “they are free to love, even if it will not be me.”

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

HEIZOU knows everything.

But this one he just found out is probably one of the things he just wished he didn’t find out.

Well, technically, it was a good thing!, he says to himself. After all… he always teased you and now, he probably did the right thing instead of… telling the truth.

Ah, by all means, he is no hypocrite. But, he does wonder when you had liked another person, and why? Surely, he had made himself known to you, with your daily meetups and banters, and you were even his “partner” in a case once. Perhaps he relied in his ability far too much that he forgot purpose for all of his efforts.

The least he could do was to support you in the sidelines… right? Surely he doesn’t like you that much to remain helpless in this situation.

When he saw you with that person the next day, he knew his resolve was far gone.

He must definitely find out what made you fall in love with this person…

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

CYNO does not know what he was going to do. And so, what does he do?

He hides in the corner and observes.

Of course, he can just walk right past both you and the person who you’ve been eating lunch with for the past hour, but for some reason, he can’t. Something about the scene right in front of him makes him want to interrogate the person; what their job was, who their family are, what other things they do—they cannot possibly hang with you if they have a bad record. All the more, what if they have bad intentions towards you?

And so, with his mind made up, that was what he does. At least, intends to do until you saw him and he met your eyes.

“Cyno! There you are, I’ve been waiting for you!” Once you had caled him oevr, the person scrambles up an excuse and runs away as soon as they can, even stumbling over a few times.

All Cyno could do was watch as the perosn runs away and sighs, sitting right beside you and crosses his arms.

“Who was that? What do they do? Are they from the Akademiya? I haven’t seen them before.”

“Oh, I don’t know, they just came here and sat in front of me.”

He is definitely hunting down that person until his questions are diminished.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

What AYATO wants, Ayato gets.

Of course, that does not mean that he treats everything or everyone lightly, on the contrary, he does what he can to attain anything or anyone that he sees as valuable. With someone of his caliber, it would not be too difficult to get people to turn his way.

You, however, was someone who piqued his interest. Yet despite this, he lets you be, not doing anything… until he had seen you with someone else—a retainer of another Commissioner.

He reasons with himself that he only stepped beside you and piped in to the conversation out of being wary towards the other retainer—eh coudl not possibly have you, his friend, to be too exposed with the works of the Tri-Commision now, right?—and with his position and words, the retainer soon walks away.

“Now that they are gone, what do you say about having tea with me this afternoon, Y/n? Unless you have a scheduled date with that… retainer.” He tries to mask his disbelief, and thankfuly, you didn’t notice.

He ignores how you looked away, seemingly flustered for a moment as you mumble a small “Sure… and we’re not dating, master Ayato… it’s not like that.”

He looks away with a smile. Certainly, this is far better.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

ALHAITHAM is rational. Most of the time.

“O-Of course, The Scribe must be very knowledgeable, compared to a lowly person like me,” says the other person that Al-Haitham did not really catch the name of right after he just questioned the person’s intelligence (very subtly at that).

“Oh come on, you’re not lowly-“

“This is why it is important to raise our knowledge, even to the little things, as we do not know what we might encounter. If you want, I can even refer you to the Akademiya, you don’t need to thank me.”

“I-I’ll think about it… thank… I mean, see you later, Y/n… and Scribe Al-Haitham,” the person sooner leaves without any more fight.

“Hey…. What is it with you? Something ruined your morning or something?” You npeered at him and he merely looks away whilst clearing his throat.

‘We were losing our time. I wanted to eat our lunch as soon as possible. Why? Are you suposed to be on a date with that… person?”

“What? What on Teyvat are you saying?” Your reply makes him crack a smirk. Of course, he was right. How could he even think that you were dating that person… at least, he won’t let that happen.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

ALBEDO respects you a lot. A whole lot.

Yet that respect comes with admiration, and sooner, he realizes that this admiration might have been stronger than he had thought the moment he saw you with someone else.

He does not engage, however, merely waiting until you had finished your conversation with that certain someone, looking quite joyful than any time else, more than the times you had spent with him, actually.

“Albedo! There you are,” you grinned at him after walking away, even looking back at the figure of the person you had talked to.

His eyes peers at you like a hawk, taking note of everything; with the brightness of your smile, to the shine in your eyes, and to the giggle that erupts from your lips.

Had he ever seen such qualities in your face before? He couldn’t help but question himself as you send him one as well.

“Sorry, just got immersed in the topic… shall we go?”

He forces out a smile—which seemed real nonetheless, “Of course.”

“Hm?” You tilt your head to the side, “Is something the matter?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he immediately answers, thinking that you probably had noticed his staring. He raises his hand and smiles, “shall we?”

He squeezes your hand when you willingly took his. Ah, maybe he could be greedy… just this time, he thinks.

comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated! ♡

taglist on reblogs!

#yaepublishinghouse #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #zhongli x reader #venti x reader #scara x reader #ayato x reader #alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader

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levilxvr · 3 months

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thinking about levi catching you masturbating..

You couldn’t control yourself, really. He’s been on a business trip for the past two weeks and his ride home from the airport was only in a few hours’ time- so what better way to wait for him than to give yourself some much needed release?

You missed him so, so bad. You missed the way he sounded while coaxing you to remove your top, the way he kissed your collarbones while gently massaging your breasts, hips gently rolling against yours as his tip leaks precum all over your thighs. The thought of it was enough to make you feel restless, and soon your eyes flutter close as your fingers instinctively trail down below the blankets.

All you could think of was your fingers- no, his fingers teasing your wet hole, ghosting over your clit as it throbbed with need. You bite your lip to suppress a small moan, and when you’re wet enough, you let your fingers slide easily past your folds.

“good girl.. look at you taking my fingers so well..” His low voice is like a fog in your head, consuming every other thought as the rest of the world drowns out. You buck your hips into his hand, fingers curling against your gspot as a free hand moves to rub tight circles on the small bud above. You can imagine the way he’d be whispering in your ear, telling you to be patient for him. You’re chanting levi’s name over and over between heavy breaths, pleading for him to let you have the blissful relief you’ve been waiting so long for.

Two weeks worth of pent up tension finally releases a few minutes later as you feel yourself cumming, making a mess on the sheets and your hand as streams of hot liquid squirt from your swollen hole. It’s so intense your whole body tenses up, back arching as you ride out an orgasm that makes you see stars.

But still, it wasn’t enough.

Fuck, you needed him so bad- even after this you weren’t satisfied. And so you continue desperately, not bothering to let yourself recover from the first one as your fingers returning to fucking your cunt. You’re so caught up in masturbating to the thought of levi that you haven’t notice him standing in the doorway for the past ten minutes.

His eyes are wide and he’s completely speechless, watching you through the crack in door. How foolish you were, not checking if it was closed properly before doing such a filthy thing. Levi doesn’t care, though. Seeing you touch yourself alone in his room as your name leaves his lips is the best thing he’s ever come home to. Drinking in the sight, he waits a little while more until the strain in his dress pants becomes unbearable.

When the door creaks open and you come to your senses, his nimble fingers are already unbuckling his belt as he walks towards the bed.

“miss me that much?”

#levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader smut #levi smut #levi ackerman #levi x reader

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lucerothings1 · 11 months

Text

Step-daddy

Michele Morrone x male reader smut

Warnings: gay sex, daddy kink, doggy and missionary position, top Michele, bottom reader, unprotected sex, oral, a bit of overstimulation, rough fucking.

Summary: your mom left for a work trip leaving your hot step dad and you alone in the house but one day you catch your step-dad.

It had been little over a year now since your mother had remarried to a man named Michele after you father had passed away when you where ten and now you where nineteen so she had stopped herself from finding some until you seemed okay with the whole ordeal.

Today you had woken up to find your mom gone from the house to your surprise. On your bedside table there read a sticky note saying “Hey honey I was called in last night to go to meetings out of town so I won’t be back till Friday of this week have a good day at school if anything Michele offered to stay so he’s there for anything be safe love mom”

As you got up from bed and threw on some clothes to go to school and as you walked down there he was your step-dad Michele leaning on the kitchen island eating his breakfast.

“Hey kid good morning I made some breakfast want any before you head out” he said with his strong accent in his voice as he continued to eat with just some pj bottoms and his shirtless torso in display. “Um no I’m good thank you Michele I’m just gonna leave” “ Okay suit yourself” he replied waving goodbye as you walked out the door and headed to school.

“Why is no one here” you asked your self as you tried to pull on the door to be surprised to read on a pice of paper stating “There will be no school on Monday” as you sighed and headed back into your car and drove off back to your house.

As you pulled up you had pulled out your house key and started to open the door before you could yell out “I’m home” you had payed attention and could hear some load moans coming from upstairs level of your house.

As you took off your shoes and backpack quietly leaving them on the ground by the front door to not be heard coming up the stairs. As you walked through the hallway towards your mom and stepdads room the moans had become even loader.

The door was slightly open so you could see that the nosies where coming from porn on the tv of the room. As you keeled looking the worst thing that could happen happened the fucking floor cracked underneath your foot “shit” you whispered out.

“Who’s there M/n” your stepdad had yelled. As you had no other option then to open the door to find your stepdad stroking his cock with one hand as you enters the room and making your face turn red as you looked down at your feet in embarrassment.

“Come on M/n look up no need to be embarrassed where don’t men” he said still on his bed now putting his dick in his pjs again. “I’m sorry I forgot that school was closed today and I didn’t yell out so you would know I was here” you started blurring out “shhhh” it fine Michele said looking at you “why don’t you come over here” he said touching his monster bulge in between his legs as you looked up and headed towards the bed to sit down on the edge.

“Come closer here” he said pulling you close and gracing ahold of your hand as he palmed his on hard on with your hand. “This is wrong your my stepdad your married with my mom” “That doesn’t matter right now your moms not here is she we are” he said pulling you into a kiss as you gave him entrance into your mouth letting him explore it with his tongue.

“Undress yourself for me baby” he said in your ear making you go hard as you started to take off your shirt and pants and socks leaving you only in your jockstrap as you as well pulled off his pjs leaving him in his underwear.

“Come here” he said getting a hold of your waist and pulling to on top of his lap as his back was supported by the bed frame as you continuedmaking out as he traveled his hands down your waist all the way to your ass as he started to knead it like if it where dough causing you to man into the kisses

As he kissed down your neck making you moan again “why don’t you show me what this little mouth of yours can do” he said as you obeyed him and went down to his underwear removing them and starting to suck on his 11 inch cock as he pushed your mouth onto his manhood making you gag on his cock.

“Oh fuck your mouth was made to suck cock my cock” he heavily said as he pushed you down all the way to his base now feeling his pubs on your chin. “Oh shit you suck dick better then your mother” he moaned out to you as he pulled you off and smashed his lips on yours as he threw you onto your back now him on top of you ass he lifted up your legs as he spit onto your entrances as he began to eat you out like a wild animal.

“Your open enough” he said as he lined up his cock to your entrance as he slid in all at once “AH-FUC-K-AH” you yelled as he began to fuck you dumb on his cock not even giving you time to adjust to his size.

“Yeah you tight as bitch HA yeah take daddy’s cock” he yelled out as he continued to fuck you in to oblivion.

“Ah-um Oh Fuck I’m gonna cum-m-m” you moaned as you where stroking your cock as Michele continued his fast pace into your hole causing you to explode a lover your hand and torso up to your neck.

“Mm-ha yeah you like this huh you like that I tick you dumb on my cock my little boy slut what would you mother think huh” he heavily breathed out “Oh fuck yeah I’m gonna cum” “ Oh fuck yeah daddy breed me cum in my hole” you yelled as he erupted inside you coating your walls of his baby juice “oh fuck that was amazing” you sighed “oh where not done my boy” he said as he picked you up pulling out of your hole as he pushed you onto the bed ass up and face done to the pillows as he penetrated you once again with his cock.

“Ohhh-fuc-k yeah give it to be daddy~~ give me that big cock” you moaned out as he began to destroy your hole again as you felt yourself become hard again. As he noticed and reached down to your manhood and began to stroke it as he had now started a rhythm of pumping your cock and recking your hole.

“Yeah you hard again for daddy’s big dick in your ass boy” he said with one hand pushing your back down making it arch more.

“Oh Fuck Dad-dyyyy” you moaned as you cummed on his hand and on the bed sheets.”You just love making a mess don’t you my slutty boy” he said taking his hand away to lick the cum off as he began to fuck you faster. “Oh fuck yeah boy have take my cum” he said as he cummed in you again as he slipped out “Ha-Ha would you look at that” he said looking at your gapping hole leaking with his cum as he collapsed on to the bed and sighed.

“That was amazing daddy” you sighed still not moving from your spot on the bed “You where amazing for me my boy~~~ just so you know you will be my personal cum dump from now on out” he said to you “what about mom” you asked “please your mom stoped handing out after the wedding and I could go of more round plus we have till Friday to fuck in all the position under the sun” he said pulling you into a kiss.

#gay #gay smut #lucerothings1 #michele morrone #Michele Morrone x Male reader

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house-of-lovin · 1 year

Text

grouch

Wednesday Addams x F!Reader

masterlist

Summary: Wednesday barely found you tolerable. But, now as you were standing there, all dishevelled, sickly. She couldn't help but find you a bit endearing.

Warnings: you're a bit of a grouch when you're sick. swearing.

Note: just a regular sick fic

Word Count: 4.8k+

This is what death feels like.

You were aching, sweat dripping down your overly warm body; unsure if you were too cold or too hot for a blanket. There was a bug going around the school and it seems you were the latest patient of the virus. You figured you must’ve caught it from Enid when she got it earlier this week.

You should've told Enid to stay away from you with a ten-foot pole.

A groan leaves your lips when you remember the botany assignment you are meant to submit soon was left to be finished on your desk when you got too exhausted from working.

Mentally counting to three before heaving yourself up from your comfortable position and stepping on the hardwood floor; even with socks on you felt a shiver run up your spine.

Being sick sucks.

Just when you manage to sit down at your desk, a loud knock resounding through the room halts any further movements.

You drop your head in frustration, now having to lug yourself up once again to answer the door; internally cursing the person on the other side.

With slow strides and a rough yank to the door handle, you answer grumpily, “What?”

Wednesday Addams was one on the other side of the door, sporting that impassive stare that always manages to irk you. A slight uprise of her brow was the only crack in her deadpan expression as she ran her gaze up and down your figure; feeling slightly insecure under her watchful leer.

Sighing, you lean your weight against the door when she doesn’t answer. “What do you want, Addams?”

“What is wrong with you?” Was her response.

“I’m sick, can’t ‘cha tell?’ You remarked sarcastically, eyes blinking slowly.

“Now, hurry up and tell me what you want so I can be sick in peace..” You roll your eyes impatiently.

“Enid – your cousin, needs your past exam from 2nd-year potions to study for her own. She ask I come get it from you.” Wednesday replies with ease.

You are Enid’s cousin – older by two years. Although your paths don’t cross often, you were around enough because of your connection to Enid. At first, she thought you were going to be exactly like her roommate; all rainbows and sunshine, must run in the family, right?

Instead, you were snippy and quick-witted, never letting Wednesday get the last word. You acted indifferent to her threats, often throwing one back; it was infuriating not being feared.

Wednesday wanted to jab a knife through your jugular but alas, you are off limits. Enid would never forgive her. So she had to learn how to ‘get along’ with you – if that was even possible.

“Damn it. I knew she’d forget to grab it.” Shaking your head in annoyance before pushing your weight off the door to walk further into your room. Wednesday follows suit, letting the door close shut behind her as she surveys her surroundings.

This was her first time inside. Wednesday recalls tales from Enid about your cleanliness and need for order around you, but as she looks around it was anything but.

Clothes were thrown haphazardly on the floor and on the top of the armchair near your bed. She even excuses the overflowing trashcan of tissues and the mess on the floor that followed. Then the goth notes the scattered papers and opened books on your desk.

“Were you studying?” She asks; lips pulled into a tight line as she awaits your answer.

“Huh? Oh yeah… Got a botany assignment due in a couple of days. This semester is kicking my ass and this flu surely isn’t helping.” You chuckle hoarsely; distractedly looking for that exam she came here for.

“You are practically on death’s door.” Wednesday remarks, observing your weak slouching figure.

You are heaving with any sort of effort, moving in slow shuffles instead of your purposeful strides. Your voice got rougher and hoarser the more you talked; the congestion surely wasn’t helping. Even your eyes blinked much slower as if you were unable to focus on what’s in front of you. Wednesday wasn’t sure if she should step closer, afraid you’d suddenly faint on her.

“Gee… Thanks, Addams. You sure know what to say to charm a gal.” You roll your eyes with an exasperated sigh. No luck in the cabinet you just checked. “Where is that damn thing?”

Wednesday’s cheeks tinge red at your response. That was not what she meant to say. “I just mean… you are visibly ill. You should be resting.”

“I would love to do that too. But this scary-looking girl just had to knock on my door asking for something.” Glancing at her with a side-eye; teasing despite your dissolving energy – waving the paper you valiantly searched for.

How foolish of you to waste energy on a pointless taunt.

With an eye roll, Wednesday takes the paper from your extended hand.

“Now, if you don’t mind.” You gesture to the door with a sarcastic smile, “I’d like to rot in peace.”

Wednesday makes no indication of leaving. On any given day you would have put up a fight, but no, not today. Not when you, woefully, were on death’s door and had an assignment calling your name.

With reluctance, you ignore the unmoving girl and sit down at your desk to continue your work and trusted Wednesday can find her own way out of your room. But before you can sit on the chair, a rough tug on your forearm has you pushed to your bed instead.

“Whoa… too fast.” You stumble, the quick movement making you feel queasy.

“Lay down,” Wednesday says when she pushes you to sit on the bed.

“Dude, what the hell?�� You sneer in an agitated tone, attempting to stand but she merely steps closer – holding a hand out, preventing you from doing so.

“Addams, I need to do my assignment.” Huffing as you stare into the warning glint in her dark orbs. She crosses her arms, unfazed.

“What you need to be doing is resting. Lay down, I will not be repeating myself again.”

A staredown ensues between you and the Addams. Wednesday unsure if you were truly foolish enough to try and disobey her. But eventually, you look away and sigh but not without complaint.

“Who made you King of the World?” You muttered bitterly as you pulled the covers over your body, getting comfortable in the warm bed.

“Quit acting like a petulant child. You are literally shaking right now.” Wednesday scolds; her tone was harsh but her touches were anything but as she tucks you into bed, making you sure you were agreeable.

She moved around the room to gather any supplies you might need close and placed a cool wet towel on your warm forehead. Any hints of diffidence on Wednesday’s side about being in your space are gone as she nurses you. And, as you lay there, tucked under a pile of blankets, Wednesday finds herself about to tuck an astray strand of hair, but her touch halts. Too soft.

Wednesday scolds herself for thinking of acting on such an urge.

“Since when’d you care about me, Addams?”

“Never. But Enid cares about you, and I care about her – so by extension, I am obligated to help her loved ones.” She responds in a quick, even tone as if she rehearsed it before.

Humming, “Obligated huh?” She nods blankly.

“You make it an obligation to tuck people’s hair back too? You know when you’re out and about helping her loved ones.” Wednesday’s hand stalls in the air, not even realizing she subconsciously tucked your hair back anyway; her efforts of restraint were futile.

The goth stands quickly; pulling away as if she was burned by something hot. Ignoring your words, she replies, “Get some rest. If I find out that you got up to do some work, I will deliver you to death’s door myself.”

“How are you gonna manage that?” You question with a challenging tone, she merely raises a brow at the defiance. “Thing will check in hourly and report back on your status.”

She walks towards the door and opens it, “I am serious, Y/N.” Warning you once again, knowing of your stubborn tendencies and a strong aversion to being told what to do.

“I hear ya’, I hear ya’” You wave off with a nonchalant tone.

Wednesday inhales a slow grounding breath to stop herself from going back over to you; unsure if she wanted to strangle you or…or do something else! To shut you up! Instead, she grips the exam paper she came to your room for and shut the door behind her; walking away.

– –

“Wednesday! How was it?” Enid asked excitedly, turning so fast in her spot when she opened the door – Wednesday would be shocked if she didn’t have whiplash at the moment. Thing sat next to the werewolf, tapping his finger on the bed repeatedly, signalling the girl to sit down.

“She is dreadfully ill.” Wednesday deadpanned, handing the paper to a grimacing Enid.

“Yikes, Y/N has never been pretty when sick. God, she’s also like, ten times more sarcastic and whiny too.” Enid furrows her brows as she recounts all the times you’ve been sick when growing up together.

Wednesday wanted to disagree. You were not…dreadful to look at. Actually, you looked quite decent standing there wearing your pyjamas. Wednesday felt… privileged …to see you in such a vulnerable state.

The bags under your dead stare and pale clammy skin were not... unattractive to someone like an Addams.

Even as you were fighting her about going back to study, you were kind of…adorable for thinking you can fight Wednesday back in your state – not even in your healthiest form could you win against her. As you lay there buried under the bed covers, you looked so fragile; it was quite alluring – Wednesday shuts that thought away. Instead, she keeps her mouth shut and lets Enid ramble about the times you’ve been a horrible patient.

In the meantime, Wednesday orders Thing to check on you every hour to make sure you truly were resting like you said you would.

– –

The next time Wednesday visited, it was only a few hours later. Thing was the one who opened the door this time, she stepped in seeing you sat up in bed with your books scattered on your lap, pen in hand – you were wearing glasses, she notes. Wednesday doesn’t know why her heart is palpitating at the sight of you in spectacles, they are a common utility for humans. But on you, it looked… slightly better.

“What are you doing?” She questions with furrowed brows once she got a grip.

“Addams!” You greet, “Doing my assignment, but in bed. So technically, not breaking your rules.” Beaming in mischief, you shrugged your shoulders.

“This is not what I meant and you know it.” Wednesday stomps closer, placing her bag of supplies for you – mostly from Enid, she would like to note – on your bed. "I distinctly remember saying what would happen if you were to leave this bed."

You sigh in defeat, “Look Addams, this is the most I’m willing to compromise. I wasn’t even sure you were serious about sending Thing in here to check on me until I got whacked for leaving for the bathroom.”

Wednesday smirks at the mental image.

“I’m not really sure why you care so much – it’s actually kinda freaking me out. But, I really need to finish this. So if you wanna deliver me to death's door yourself, you're gonna have to wait until this is finished.” You finish off with a huff, pointing to the books in your lap with pouting lips and Wednesday feels remnants of spiders crawling in her stomach.

“Fine…” She concedes very reluctantly, “But you are going to stay here as you do it.”

Taking a seat on your bed, she says. “As am I.”

You study her wearily with a probing gaze, unsure why she was being so nice to you right now. Even her threats had lost a bit of their edge. It was unsettling but not unwelcome.

“Fine with me.” You say after a couple of seconds, breaking your surveying of Wednesday.

The goth nods, taking her supplies out of her bag, an assortment of snacks, drinks and a book she managed to slip in were among some of the other items. She would never outwardly say that it was one of her favourite books and that she would somewhat like to know what you thought of the plot – but just so she can tell you how her analysis of the book is better.

“Woah! Chocolate popcorn.” Roughly grabbing the packaged snack, staring at it with childlike glee. “This is, like, my favourite. They don’t sell these around here.”

Wednesday knows.

“How’d you get these?” You look up and Wednesday detests how she feels a physical stutter in her chest when you do; all wide-eyed, grinning – you look foolish being so galvanized over a menial item.

“Unimportant… and those are for after you get better, not during. Eating these now will only prolong your condition.” You pout disappointedly but obey nevertheless, putting the snack back down.

She sees your careful glances at the medicine in her hands. “Please don’t make me drink pills.”

You were in clear fear, shaking your head. Wednesday frowns at your genuine dislike for the medicine.

“What is wrong with it? Would you have preferred the liquid version?” She looks down confused at the items in her hand.

“I… can’t swallow pills.” You admit, awkwardly scratching the back of your neck.

Wednesday blinks, “Oh. Well… No worries, I have the liquid version in my room.” She dismisses but you audibly huff, crossing your arms in the process, confusing the Addams.

“I don’t like medicine okay? I don't take it, never have.” You admit with a puff and Wednesday takes a moment to gather her thoughts.

“That is a childish reason.”

“No, it’s not! Lots of people don't like to take medicine when they’re sick.” You defend.

“Most of those people might not be as sick as you.” She reasons but you shrug unperturbed, slipping on your headphones. “You would prolong your illness simply because you don’t like medicine?” Still ignoring the goth’s clinched jaw and flared nostrils.

Realizing that you were going continue your childlike behaviour, Wednesday sighs, standing up to survey your room for the second time today – this time with more attention to detail.

Like the gaming controller thrown absentmindedly on your desk, the wilting plant on your bedside table, or the sweater thrown on the back of your chair. Wednesday walked further into the opposite corner of the room. A make-shift nook of carpet, blankets and pillows was on the floor – barricaded by two large bookshelves. Inside is spacious enough to be comfortable and move around; it had an inviting atmosphere and Wednesday finds herself walking closer to it.

She steps inside the reading sanctuary; the carpet was crumpled, blankets unmade, obvious signs of its frequent use. A hanging light bulb illuminated the small corner. Wednesday runs a tentative finger through the spine of some books, before landing on a cozy familiar – H.P. Lovecraft, she didn't expect you to be a fan. She pulls it out from the rest, and takes a seat on the carpet, keeping a watchful eye on you.

For a while, you two just existed in silence. Only remnants of dull pen scratching against paper, coughing and the timely flip of a page are the only sounds to be heard in the room – it was calming. You were unsure how much time had passed by the time you decided you had done enough work for the night – the familiar aching of a migraine creeping at the back of your skull.

You scanned the room, forgetting the Addams girl was still with you, having fallen trance in your own world – she was sitting in your reading corner. Her body is hidden behind the large bookshelf but you can see a glimpse of her knees tucked close to her chest as her chin rests on top, flipping through the pages as you continue to observe her. She looked kinda cute.

Wednesday was often reading during the times you were around her – unless she was hurling threats at you. Enid said she preferred it over talking to other people. What is often an evasion tactic when out in public, is instead enjoyed as she curls up reading one of your favourite books. Almost looking relaxed, you note.

“I can feel your eyes on me.”

You snorted, closing your books, and throwing them to the side on the floor. Wednesday looks over disapprovingly at the thud. “I’m finished for the night, so you don’t have to worry about me sneaking off to do some work. I tap out.” You cross your arms in an ‘X’ motioning to emphasize.

“Good…” Wednesday answers, returning to her book.

You blink, unsure of what to do, “Um… what now?”

She thinks for a second before standing up, “It is time for medicine.” You groan, wincing in pain from the effort.

“Anything but that please.” You pout, hiding under the covers, hoping she spared you of this torture.

“I can tell your migraine is returning. You were wincing in pain for 15 minutes before you decided to stop studying.” That makes you halt, not realizing she was watching you so intensely.

“Don’t care.” You mumbled from under the covers. “Y/N…I know you’re in pain. Now.” She huffs impatiently, sitting on the edge of your bed.

Your usual fight and resistant attitude was dwindling with every passing moment, you’d really love to tell Wednesday to kick it but you’re half scared and half exhausted. With a defeated exhale, you pull off the covers and sit up; taking the medicine packet from her open palm. When your fingertips touched, Wednesday had to tightly curl her fingers closed when she dropped them back to her side.

You begrudgingly swallow the pill.

With an exasperated gulp, you ask, “Satisfied?”

Even while she was helping you, you were acting like a whiny brat. Just like Enid’s warnings, she recalls.

“Has anyone told you that you become increasingly whinier when you are ill?” Wednesday says matter-of-factly.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really bossy when you want something?” You retort with an upraise of a brow.

“Yes, actually. A few times.” Wednesday answers honestly. And you’re not even surprised, just laughing and shaking your head.

Tossing the medicine packets and other junk off your bed, you scoot off to the side patting the open spot. Wednesday looks at you blankly. “Come on, do I have to spell it out for ya? Sit beside me, Addams.”

The goth doesn’t respond, just getting up and sitting beside you; thighs and shoulders so close that Wednesday can feel the warmth radiating off your skin. Or maybe she’s just hyperaware of you and your movements.

You lean closer into her space, not quite touching, “Figure if you can ‘nurse’ me back to health, you can also sit through a couple of movies with me?” You asked in such a hopeful tone that Wednesday would never dare say no.

So, Wednesday nods, silently and you were excited – Thing who had taken a nap sprang to grab the remote and pass it to you – before then taking his leave for the evening.

– –

You two get through a couple of movies, some Wednesday liked more than she was willing to admit. You nudge her shoulder, “Told you How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days isn’t that bad, you just have to give it a chance.”

Wednesday rolls her eyes not wanting to admit defeat. “It was…interesting, they had both lied and humiliated each other for professional gain. It was cruel…I think it was tolerable.”

Knowing that was the best you were going to get from the goth, you beam back at her. You supposed you never thought of one of your favourite movies in that way before, but Wednesday is not without interesting opinions.

You two decide to start another movie, this time Wednesday’s choice. Halfway through the movie, you found yourself burning up uncomfortably; no position was comfortable for you, you think all your fidgeting is annoying Wednesday. It wasn’t until the familiar churn in your stomach was felt that you made a break for the bathroom; legs all stumbling from being tangled in the covers.

You gagged and vomited out all of your dinner; only stopping when your stomach begged for reprieve. You closed the lid of the toilet, flushing it as your shoulders dropped. Suddenly you feel a hand rub comforting circles on your back and another holding your hair up. The touches were so comforting to your overheating body that you let out a groan at her cool skin.

“I would like to say that came out of nowhere, but you were moving around so much it was only a matter of time.”

You just groaned again, letting your head drop to the toilet cover; stomach still feeling weak and queasy.

Wednesday sighs, her chest uncomfortably clenching at the sight of your weak figure – it was pathetic. “Why did you not just say you felt sick?”

“I thought I was fine.” You grumbled back.

Wednesday rolled her eyes knowing that’s most likely a lie judging by how much you were moving around 30 minutes into the movie. She knew you were trying to hold back whatever queasiness you were feeling.

“Do you think you can stand?” You nod.

Wednesday helps you up, about to lead you back to bed when you push her helping hand away. “Need to brush my teeth.”

“I think bad breath is the least of your concerns. You can barely stand, Y/N.” She tries to usher you back to bed, but you refuse.

“I may be sick, but I am not gross.” You push her back with what little strength you have left, shutting the door in her face; she hears the faucet running.

All Wednesday could do was scoff and cross her arms over her chest as she waits for you. Of course, she would wait for you. You have been whiny, bratty, and grouchy but even still, Wednesday finds it annoying how she still can’t bring it in herself to leave.

The Addams girl would like to blame the churn in her stomach for the same illness that you have but she knows it would be untrue. Wednesday always feels this way around you; ever since she grew to accept that you would be around. Sometimes with Enid at lunch, sometimes in the library, sometimes at her dorm.

She always, without a doubt, feels the remnants of creepy crawlies all over her body, hair raising, senses more aware; even if she wasn’t talking to you directly or even if you were on the other side of the room.

Those would be the times Wednesday elects to keep herself busy to avoid talking to you, whenever you two fight it always ends up with one of you storming off. So, sometimes she chooses to bask in the one-sided silence; whether it be a book or her typewriter.

Enid and Thing think it’s pathetic, hence why they tried to send her to pick up an ‘exam’ from you, hoping Wednesday can finally have a… pleasant interaction with you. But now that was all quickly backfiring for the Addams girl as she thinks of ways to torture you after you get better – to even the playing field.

She gets swept up in fantasies of her glossary of torture methods, mentally crossing out the ones she knew would not suit you. But as the bathroom door opens and you stand on the other side with a guilty frown, Wednesday finds all her murderous urges dwindling away.

She stands straighter at your expression, uncrossing her arms.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you said, looking up at her with glistened eyes. Wednesday’s stare unknowingly softens.

“I didn’t mean to do that. I become a real grouch when I don’t feel well.” You rub your palm into your eyes, wiping away the tears. Being sick also makes you emotional, she notes.

Wednesday steps forward, bringing a cautious hand to your wrist, bringing your hands down. “I know. I have been trying to tell you that.” She rolls her eyes.

“Just let me take care of you.” She all but fretted. Finally, you give in and nod; allowing your arm to go limp as Wednesday leads you back to bed, tucking you in.

Just like before, she moves about with familiarity. This time setting a bucket on your bedside – just in case. “If I knew how terrible this sickness would get, I would have made you the Addams special tea.”

“What’s in it?”

“Just the normal medicinal herbs and a drop of liquid from a vile.”

“What’s… in the vile?”

“Its origins are unknown. My mother says it is from an ancestor who took samples of a deadly virus in the old days, though no one is quite sure. All we know is that it works.”

Your nose crinkles at the thought, having heard of the macabre tales of the Addams family and their eccentric ways. “As thoughtful as that is… I don't think I'm there yet.”

Wednesday shrugs, stepping back. “You’re all set. You should sleep, it's quite late.” She looks at you bundled up in bed once again, this time looking worse than before and she feels short-lived feelings of pity. There was a brief moment of silence as no one says anything, unsure of what to do next.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Wednesday tries to spin around to leave, but you’re grabbing her wrist this time. “Or you can stay…It’d be unfortunate for you to get into trouble for missing curfew just cause you were taking care of me.”

Wednesday raises a brow, asking ‘are you sure?’ choosing to ignore the way her heart dropped to her stomach at your question.

You tighten your hold on her wrist, “I would… like it if you stayed.” You stammered out.

Wednesday nods, removing her boots and sweater then she starts to undo her braids and it makes your brain short-circuit a bit – never having seen her without them. When she gets in beside you she scoots closer than intended – shoulders almost touching. She moves down allowing herself to get down in a comfortable position on your pillows; it smells like you and Wednesday detests that she finds the scent to be so comforting.

You, on the other hand, weren’t really sure where you got that sudden inclination to ask her to stay, but as you look down at her adjusting form in your bed, bundled up under your covers, you knew you made the right choice.

When Wednesday doesn’t feel you moving to lie down, she looks up at you. “Y/N, you need to sleep.”

“The TV is helping me sleep.” You mumble.

“It is making your migraine worse.” Wednesday props herself up on her elbow so you two are face to face. “What is the reason this time?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, playing with the loose thread of the covers to avoid her gaze. “I get night terrors when I’m really sick. Sometimes I just wake up screaming ‘cause I’m so terrified. So I try not to sleep until my fever breaks.”

Wednesday is silent at your revelation. “Would you…like to hold me? While you fall asleep.”

Your eyes widen, not answering.

As the silence grows Wednesday starts to feel insecure about her question. Then your face softens, “Are you sure?”

“I would not have asked if I was not comfortable.” Your heart skips at her words.

Then Wednesday is turning her back to you, glancing behind her curtain of raven hair as a reassurance that she was serious about her inquiry. Your body is moving closer to her before you can even let yourself think about it, carefully wrapping your arm around her waist. It should be illegal how comforting this feels, at how unearthly it feels to have Wednesday this close.

“You can move closer, I am not fragile,” Wednesday whispers into the quiet night air. She grabs your arm, bringing it closer to her chest as you fall flushed against her; your front to her back.

“Tell anyone about this and I will bury you six feet under alive.” Wednesday threats with firmness.

You chuckle, “I would never tell anyone about this, it’s embarrassing for me.”

“Good. The same for me, as well.”

“Good.” You agreed.

“Great.” She agrees.

There is silence for a while.

“Are…are you…comfortable?” Wednesday breaks the stillness that grew in the room.

“Yes…I am.” You muttered softly; Wednesday fights her body’s reaction to shiver as you whisper the words so close to her ear. Instead, she curls herself into you, hoping her movements disguised the shudder.

“Good. Go to sleep.”

You chuckle, “Goodnight, Wednesday.”

– –

The next day, neither of you mentions how you wake up with Wednesday’s face nuzzled against your neck; hand under your shirt; practically on top of you. You also don’t say anything when she kept coming back every night to ‘help you’ with your night terrors until your fever broke and then a couple more days after that until Enid was practically begging her to come home.

–

#wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday imagine

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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months

Note

hi, can you please do a chris one about the things reader do that make his heart flutter, please 🫶🏻

Heart to Heart (Chris Sturniolo)

a/n: okay guys, i didn't know exactly how to write this but i sort of just ended up making it about moments in the relationship. i think its super cutesy and i hope you love it. thanks for the request anon, love ya

contains: fluff and alot of it, soft boyfriend chris, falling in love, chris third person pov, kissing, 950+ words

The first time Chris’ heart skips a beat, it’s so subtle he almost misses it. He’s meeting a girl. A pretty girl. It’s not new for him; he meets pretty girls almost every day. But something is different about this one and it catches him off guard. He can’t put a finger on it, can’t say what part of her has him off balance. He only knows that one minute everything was normal and then he met her eyes and now it’s like the world is somehow spinning backwards. Then she smiles, tells him her name, and asks for his. And suddenly everything is the same again, but now slightly different.

***********

She’s rambling the night he realizes there’s no way in hell he can just be her friend. There’s a movie on, but no one is looking at the screen. It’s the one she’s seen a million times and the one he only put on to watch her watch it. She’s criss-cross applesauce in his bed, mixed-matched fluffy socks on her feet, talking about how different this scene is in the book. And he doesn’t care at all, but he nods and hangs onto every word because she does. On the screen, the boy’s dad tells him that he’ll know when he’s met the one because he won’t have to ask. And in his bed, next to this girl quoting the movie word for word, Chris realizes with a start that he’s never asked once.

***********

They never go on a first date; he can’t bring himself to call it that. But he does take her to dinner. It starts a bit awkwardly and he begins to worry that he’s fucked this up. But then he cracks a joke and she laughs and he tells ten more, chasing that sound. And then they are talking about everything- the moon, hot sauce, Shonda Rhimes, Roger Rabbit- until before they know it their plates are cleared and it’s time to go. They take a walk down a path she knows, and he reaches out and laces their hands together not missing the smile she tries to hide. When she trips over a rock, because of course she does, he catches her before she can fall. And as he begins teasing her, she leans up and kisses him mid-sentence, melting his words away. She pulls away and he’s stunned for a second, but only a second, and then pulls her back to him, his heart beating faster than he’s ever felt it before.

***********

Chris loves it when she gets ready for parties or events with him for a million different reasons, but he thinks he loves this part the most. She’s doing her hair or at least she’s trying to, but their playlist isn’t letting her be great. When she hears the beginning of Migos’ Stir Fry, she’s up in half a second singing the words, dancing around, and pointing at him for the next line. He jumps up to join her, matching her energy and giving his goofy footwork. She’s hyping him up, recording him, and then crumbling to the floor with laughter as he trips doing the pin-drop. He looks over at her grinning and when she comes over to help him up, he yanks her down on top of him so he can kiss her.

***********

“I think I’m in love with her.” He tells Matt late one night, the two of them sitting in the kitchen scrolling on their phones. Chris doesn’t even look over at him, but he feels his brother’s eyes boring into the side of his head. Then he feels Matt’s hand on his shoulder and Chris finally meets his eyes. “Not to step on your moment here, buddy. But you’re the last one to realize that.” His brother grins at him and he can’t help but join. His phone goes off and he glances down, seeing her name flash across the screen. It’s a Snapchat of her blowing him a kiss, her face covered in a green mask, telling him goodnight. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, but tonight it makes his heart stutter: He looks over at his brother, who’s still studying him knowingly, and rolls his eyes. “Shut up, bro.”

***********

He has his eyes closed, well on his way to sleep, when he feels her turn in his arms. He’s about to open his eyes and ask if she’s hot when he hears her say it. It’s only a bit louder than a whisper but unmistakable, if only for the way it makes his body feel like he’s floating.

“I love you so much, Chris.”

She rubs her nose against his once and then snuggles into his chest, her eyelashes giving him soft butterfly kisses. And then before the moment slips away from him, before he can talk himself out of it, he says it back. His voice is a little groggy and rough but his tone is gentle. She freezes, clearly unprepared to have been caught and he laughs a little, pulling her closer and dropping a kiss on the top of her head. She sits up in bed, turning to him in shock. He opens his eyes finally and raises his eyebrows.

“Don’t make it a thing-”

She stands and starts jumping on the bed like a kid on Christmas. “You love me. You love me.” She sings childishly, laughing as he tries to catch her legs and make her fall. He sighs, giving up and letting his head fall back against the pillow, unable to hold back his smile. “Shut up and come here.” He says, holding open his arms for her to fall into. And she does. And as he presses his lips to hers, her hands tangling into his hair, he holds on to her and hopes she never makes him let go.

#sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo oneshot #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo oneshots #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

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soapybutt17 · 15 days

Text

Labour pt.1

Summary:A mission has gone sideways, you find your husband compromised alongside Gaz and because of it you were tasked with handling most of the mess that came after. What you didn’t expect was to be chewed out and spat on by one Philip Grave. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Philipp Graves. Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish. OC Children (Joey, Katherine). Price's mother (Beatrice Price). Word Count: 2,160 Chapter Warnings: Misogynism. Sexism. Graves is being a complete peace of shit here. Angst. Reader is literally breaking down here. Only hurt no comfort until the second part. John is being a little bit of a POS here. Author's Note: Song Inspo is this

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part II

You tried you best, you truly did but it was not easy to keep a straight face as you were notified that both your husband and Gaz were compromised because of wrong intel. It was hard not to scream at Laswell because it was her intel that left your husband wounded and barely awake as the doctors were tending to his and Gaz’s wound. It was even harder to reassure both Ghost and Soap that everything would be alright even if it wouldn’t be.

“What the fuck happened?”

No, this was actually the hardest for you as you stared at the obnoxiously arrogant bastard of a man named Philip Graves. He was blaming everyone else but himself. His shadows all nodding along with his rant while you sat in the meeting room. You kept silent. You wanted to wait until he let out all of his steam before you began. But it doesn’t seem like he was stopping any time soon.

“We followed Laswell’s Intel. Someone might have caught wind of it and attacked first.” It was Ghost that decided to cut the ranting.

It’s been a long and far too tedious mission for everyone and it’s coming close to a year now since you and your husband have returned back home. Close to a year since you’ve actually seen your son and daughter and missing out on most of their milestones because of it. You were at your breaking point and men blaming you want not helping in the matter.

“Laswell’s intel was perfect it was the execution your team made that ruined the mission.”

You took a deep breath as the anger grew ten folds because of the man.

“Are you done?” You inquired knowing it was time to talk since the conversation was going nowhere.

As the man shuts up, surprised even with your calm tone even with the stress of the failed mission. You gave both Ghost and Soap a warning look. It was all they needed from you to know you could deal with this.

“The intel was perfect a day or two before we headed out for the mission. No one here would realize that their movement and plans would change.” You explained. “We will do our best to fix this.”

“I don’t fucking need you to do your best to fix this!” Graves spat slamming his hand on top of the table that separated the two of you. “I want you to fucking do your job! Or has motherhood and becoming Price’s wife turned you into an incompetent soldier?”

You blinked, genuinely taken aback by the man’s words. In the years since you and your husband had finally allowed everyone to know about your relationship and marriage, never once had anyone say something as malicious as the man did in front of you.

“I am the best soldier before I became a wife or a mother.” You spat raising from your chair to look at the man straight in his eyes. “Do not use my family for your sick plan to hurt me, Commander. You are not the one in control of this mission, you are merely a pawn that we will more than happily discard once the mission is over.”

“Then act like it.” He spat.

You cracked your neck counting to ten trying to calm the bubbling anger fighting to come out. You still had your resentment and apprehension for having Graves participate in the mission. More than just how he and Shepard has betrayed your team back in Las Almas, you never truly trusted a man that had openly admitted that a woman like you did not truly fit in the military. This moment has cemented it.

The meeting was eventually dismissed and you made a beeline towards your husband’s office—rather, your temporary office while you handle most of the paper works while he was unavailable. You had ensured that the door was locked before the first line of tears had fallen from your eyes.

It was frustrating, to have everything you had worked on since an early age and every single sacrificed you had to make for the family you had created with your husband to be wasted by such words. You were reduced to just being your husband’s wife and the mother of his children. You were not acknowledged as the Lieutenant that had spearheaded in Makarov’s capture all those years ago, not acknowledged as the best sniper in your generation, not acknowledged as the best medic of the team. You were nothing more than a woman that served her husband and children.

Your phone dinged and the sight of your mother-in-law sending you a video of your son taking his first step further broke you as you fell to your knees and wept. Everything was falling apart all at once and you didn’t know how to navigate everything on your plate without being questioned.

The moment John had opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of his beautiful wife sitting beside where he laid. You were buried deeply in what he assumed were the mission report.

The first thing he had noticed about you were your puffy eyes that weren’t just from the lack of sleep but for tears that he was uncertain what had caused it. Even in the pain that came from his wounded shoulder, his moved his arm gingerly and held onto your hand taking you by surprise.

“John!” You gasped placing the paper work you were signing on the opposite chair that was your impromptu table while you stayed with him. “How are you holding up?”

“Alive so that’s good news.” He tried to minimize what had happened. “How long was I out?”

“A week now.” You answered looking at the clock above the bed. “Do you want me to call the doctor?”

He shook his head, not wanting to deal with a doctor just yet. His time with his own wife was more important than having to deal with the coats.

“What happened while I was out?” He inquired knowing it was better to know what was wrong than having himself second guess and annoy you.

“Mission was completed with the few hiccups with what happened to you.” You began with a sigh. “Had to do the debriefing with Graves and Shepard while making sure to keep Soap and Ghost in a tight leash and stop them from lashing out.”

John tried to decipher the deeper meaning from your words. There was something more you weren’t telling him. It was always like this with you, you always try to minimize what hardship that rested on your shoulders even the lashing that was thrown at your direction at the expense of your own feelings.

“What happened?” He repeated hoping it was enough to have you telling him the truth.

“Nothing you needed to worry about, Captain.” You avoided but how you called him Captain when it was just the two of you.

John tried. He truly tried not to worry but even after he was discharged from the infirmary and he continued on with what you had left off from his paper works he noticed the distance that had wedged itself between the two of you.

No longer did you try to stay in his office longer than you usually did. You didn’t even try to approach him unless there was someone else present. Yes, he truly did try not to worry but it was hard when he knew something was certainly wrong.

“What happened during the debriefing?” John couldn’t help himself any longer and the first opportunity that he had caught sight of both Soap and Ghost without you present he took his chance.

He watched the shared look between the duo.

“Still hasn’t told you what happened?” Soap inquired.

“I wouldn’t ask if she had, would I?” John quipped right back.

“Just some misogynistic bullshit being spewed by Graves.” Ghost was quick to end the to and fro that was evidently happen when it comes to Soap.

“Thank you.” John nodded and a plan was already formed in his head for what needed to be done.

“My darlings.” You couldn’t help but almost be in tears at the sight of your children in the airport with your mother-in-law.

With the mission over and done with, you and your husband were finally allowed to be home for the next few months—more so with your husband still recovering from his injuries.

You had wrapped your three year old and nearly one year old into your arms peppering them with kisses as your husband greeted his mother. You took a good look at them, so pained by how grown they were in the seven months of not being able to see them.

“Mama!” Your son, Joey mumbled at you with his small hands gripping onto the collar of your shirt.

You heard your husband grunt, bemused by the fact that your son’s first word was you instead of him. Turning to your mother-in-law, Beatrice, you gave her a quick hug appreciating her help with keeping the fort up for you and your husband. You owed her a good vacation with your father-in-law.

“Hope John would be alright now that he’s back. You know how he is with injuries.”

You peered at your husband that was forced by the doctor to wear a sling for the next few weeks while his shoulder heals. You definitely know how much of a baby the man could be every single time he’s injured. He would do anything but rest and heal. You just hope your children could keep him busy for the mean time.

“I’ll deal with him, Mum.” You reassured her with a smile. “Now, what don’t we go and treat you and Dad to some boogie five star dinner like we promised?” You inquired earning a peck from your mother-in-law in the cheek.

Eventually after dinner with your family, you had drove your husband and children back to your home. John had been becoming moodier as the minute passed, with the pain finally kicking in. Now you had to deal with three children that were getting uncomfortable being confined in the care for more than an hour.

Your patience was already laying thin with your husband not helping with your children crying at the backseat. With your children both in the confinements of their car seats and not being able to move as much, they were no help to your growing fouler mood. Your husband was silent in all of this, living in his own world dealing with his own discomfort for having to deal with the bullet hole to his shoulders and his refusal to drink painkiller to deal with it.

“John, the kids. Please.” You finally spoke, hoping he could finally take the hint.

“What do you want me to do?” He snipped and your felt your blood boil and ready to snap and before you could even do, the sudden ring of his phone interrupted you.

He moved slightly from his seat beside you to pull his phone up and immediately answered a call from Laswell, disregarding your request to keep the kids quiet and talked to the woman with your children crying in the background.

Once again, you felt so alone in this situation. It felt so unfair. So fucking unfair to you having to deal with both children, hoping and praying that bribing them with ice cream or sweets would appease them both, but it only made things worse and John demanding you to shut them up was enough for you to stop the car in the middle of the road.

Without another word, you turned the car off, unbuckling your belt and leaving the car slamming the door shut finally silencing both your husband and children.

In the middle of the deserted road, with the cold breeze of the midnight skies you screamed at the top of your lungs. You punched the closes tree that you could see. Punched the fucking trunk over and over as everything you had bottled up has finally overflowed and you were genuinely worried if you were finally going through a psychotic breathe because of it.

In your screams and punch, you halted as the wetness finally fell against your cheeks. You were truly losing your sanity as you sobbed over and over again for everything you had to deal with in the base and mission. Graves’ words that were meant to belittle your incompetence as a soldier dug through your heart more than you had ever thought it would.

You were tired. Just so tired.

When you could barely feel the tears falling anymore, you let out one last pained scream before finally wiping your tears and making your way back into the car. The silence in the car was a relief as you turned the car back on and continued driving.

“Darling…”

“Don’t, John. Just fucking don’t.”

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savviathan · 7 months

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There is a warden in decked out.

Hypno knows this, partially, because he’s been to level three himself. He knows that wardens roam the catacombs of The Black Mines on every level, sniffing out his scent faster than any ravager ever has—even though his run to level three was short lived—and Hypno knows that because… well, it’s hard not to know things with his namesake. It was a bit of a stand off of senses, really.

But Hypno isn’t talking about those wardens. He’s talking about the one that’s everywhere, and effectively, nowhere all at once. He’s talking about the one he’s heard humming in the shop. He’s talking about the one growling in the crypt. He’s talking about the heartbeat, identical to the thu-thud of Decked Out’s, in the spider’s den and the pirate ship. He’s talking about the sniffling sound, and something akin to a chuff, as he rides the minecart into the dungeon.

Indeed, there is a warden in Decked Out’s walls.

Tango doesn’t seem to be aware of this fact. At least, Hypno thinks he isn’t. Despite the Deepfrost Citadel and Decked Out’s visible complexity and design, Tango’s general observation skills aren’t as cracked up as it seems.

He mentioned his concern to the guy a few days ago, just before phase one ended so it, theoretically, could be fixed before phase two. To ensure fairness, and all that jazz.

As Hypno turns a corner towards the River of Souls and hears the faint groan beneath his feet, he knows it wasn’t fixed. He hops over the hazard trapdoors all the same and bounds towards the stairs of the crypt—and comes face to face with a ravager. He turns around. Whatever. He’ll just go—

The compass flips directly back into the crypt. Darn it.

Deep from below (or left? or right? sometimes it feels like the sounds are right on top of him) a warden chuffs.

It sounds like laughter.

Just yesterday, Hypno asked some of the others in the waiting room—or, the daycare? is that what they were calling it now?—if they’d heard the warden in Decked Out’s walls. False had said she thought she heard one in the circular room towards the front of level one, but she might have confused it for a ravager instead. Gem said she definitely heard one in level two a few days ago. Etho said something about speculating it was some kind of secret regarding the fourth level, which Cub immediately shot down by saying that the distance between levels would be too far if they were to assume level four was below level three.

Scar said he had heard a very loud growling inside the shop. Something like warbling, half jumbled noises and speech that seemed to range between content and very, very irritated. Tango had told him it was a squirrel.

Grian had spun around on a dime and gave the most expressive face he could muster with only his two eyes as he yelled, “Why on earth would there be a squirrel in the dungeon, Scar!”

Good news, Scar no longer thinks it’s a squirrel. Also good news, from that conversation, Hypno had came to the conclusion that he was not, in fact, going crazy.

Bad news—Reckless Charge is played, Tango’s disembodied voice announces, and Hypno scrambles over a nearby shrieker only to trip face first into a dripstone stalagmite in his haste—now that he knows this thing really isn’t supposed to be here, it makes the irritated growling at least ten times worse every time he picks up his frost ember spoils.

Hypno slides into the next room and finds a key laying atop a pile of snow. He scoops it up, shakes his hand free of frozen powder, and turns back around.

Now that he’s thinking about it, Hypno really wishes he’d asked Scar when Tango had told him the warden noises in the shop had come from a squirrel. Having a timeline here would be extremely helpful. If Tango already knew there was a possibility of a loose warden and still lied to Scar… Well, of course, there was always the possibility Tango was just messing with the guy, but…

Hypno drops his key into the slot.

He furrows his brows. Well. That would be really weird.

It would be really weird, actually, because Tango was a game design perfectionist. He set out to make the best possible design and playability in a game known to man, and expected others to do the same. He expected everything to run smoothly, and would test and test and test some more until it would. Everyone knew that. Tango wouldn’t just purposefully leave a warden to wander around Decked Out.

Or maybe he couldn’t find it? Hypno purses his lips. That somehow seemed less likely. Tango knew the ins and outs of this game like nobody’s business. He was tangled up in its redstone guts for thirteen months, for god’s sakes.

So why…

It feels like a truck hits his abdomen.

Hypno yelps, startled out of his thoughts, and crawls back into the entryway of level two. He glares at the ravager, head poking through the doorway innocently. Hungrily. Hypno sighs and begins to stand back up.

Maybe he was putting too much thought into this whole “warden in Decked Out’s walls” thing. He couldn’t even hear it anymore, anyways.

But by god, he couldn’t help it if his head swam with all of the possibilities, the reasons, the details—the fact that the hermits knew it was there, and tango didn’t, and wasn’t that odd—the everything that came along with this game, and this particular unexplainable detail about it.

What a meticulous creation, to have something so uncared for.

Hypno dives into the water. He swerves out of the way of an incoming trident and rolls out onto land, dripping wet and breathing hard. He would have to ring out his bandana between these runs again. That was going to start becoming a hassle very soon. One he would have to endure, unfortunately. God forbid he take off his bandana for a full run and accidentally see where every evoker was hiding in the floorboards.

There’s a key lying on the ground just in front of the dripstone caves. He rushes over to pick it up.

The door chimes. Hypno steps through and down into the darkened stairwell once more, half squatting, half tiptoeing, at the plateaus. Deep below, loud enough to shake the lantern’s flame on the shelf next to him, there is a wet warble of a warden.

It’s appropriately timed now, Hypno thinks, but it still makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up all the same. The warden is loud now, louder than when it was in the walls, and the floor, and in front of him. It’s almost like being suffocated, the sound bounces off the walls and into his eardrums and makes it sound like it’s on top of him, or just behind him, or—

Or everywhere, and nowhere all at once. In the shop, in the dungeon, in the walls. Always present, never visible.

Following.

Hypno freezes in the entryway to the Black Mines. There is a warden in decked out. Two, actually, but that second one is of nowhere near his concern as he looks directly into the spot where this warden’s eyes would be, no more than ten feet away from him.

The darkness pulses around him. Hypno takes a step back, hand searching for the stairwell’s walls and missing, waving at air instead. The warden growls.

Darkness floods Hypno’s vision. It pulses around him, wanes, and Hypno reaches back for the stairwells walls. His hand misses. The warden wails. It bounds off of the walls, reverberates as a horrible shriek. The walls are nowhere to be seen, and the sculk at his feet hums as it reaches closer for his skin, thrumming and shrieking to the same tune. Hypno scrapes his hands on the ground as he falls, staring at black, then blue, and then black, and Hypno sees robes as his eyes widen, darkened and silk in texture with snowflakes embroidered into the seams, and blue, and black, and blue eyes where they shouldn’t be, and the heartbeat is deafening now, he can see it pulse through the warden’s chest as it howls and its chest opens, and Hypno thinks he sees his face in one of the souls it carries there, and black robes, and blue eyes, and a darkened hood, and a cackling laugh, and Hypno screams as the warden blasts his head clean off.

He shoots up in bed. There’s sweat on his forehead. The voices outside call his name. Hypno breathes hard, and sits there, and puts his hands in his hair.

There is a warden in Decked Out’s walls. As Hypno stares up at Tango, a nervous smile on his face, he realizes, there always has been.

#savvieposts #savviewrites #hermitcraft #decked out 2 #tangotek #hypnotizd #fanfiction #im so excited to post this

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ghostlywhiskey · 4 months

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lawyer!price when the two of you finally start seeing each other. you never knew the man to be stressed or overwhelmed, if anything, you admired how he always seemed to handle everything. except, you’d never admit that out loud, or at least prior to dating him.

but it’s when he asks you to spend the night that you see behind the wall he’s built up. the two of you had been watching tv on the couch when you had fallen asleep, or at least thats what you remember. when your eyes blink a few times as consciousness comes back to you, the dark bedroom cold and empty as you sit up. price is nowhere within reach nor is he in your sight, the alarm clock on the night stand the only soft glow of light.

1:43 AM

slipping out of the bed, you quietly exit the bedroom. looking both ways down the hallway of the apartment, you make note of the lack of sound coming from the general living space. what does grab your attention is the exaggerated typing noises you’ve learned to zone out while at work. heading towards the sound, you stand in front of his office door; fingers knock softly against the wood as you wait for a response to allow you to enter, but when it doesn’t come you push open the slightly cracked door.

price is sat at his desk, eyes glued onto the computer screen in front of him while papers scatter the desk, some even making their way onto the floor.

“john?” your certain he might not even register the sound of your voice. and you’re certain he might not even stop to look at you if he does. but, fingers come to a halt on the keyboard and eyes divert their attention to you. he’s paying attention. he’s giving you his attention.

“what are you doing up?” he asks, he doesn’t sound mad or annoyed, is it concern?

there was still getting used to john price as your boyfriend, not the attorney who barked requests at you. it was like relearning how he operated at work. but now, you actually cared about the tone in his voice and his actions.

“i didn’t realize i feel asleep,” you trail off, taking a few seconds to stare blankly at him before processing your next move. walking over cautiously towards him, you stand next to his chair as you catch a glimpse of the screen. multiple tabs and programs, medical records and contracts opened across the two monitors. his desk scattered with more contracts and deposition transcripts. “but, i think i should be asking you the same question.”

a hand reaches up behind you, grabbing for your waist as he tugs you towards him. your body lets him guide you onto his lap, one arm securing around his neck as your other hand rests on his chest.

“nothing productive happens after ten,” you murmur, fingers toying with the top button of his dress shirt.

fingers graze past your jaw as his palm cups your cheek.

“tell that to the five pages i’ve written for the motion.”

“the motion isn’t due until the end of next week.”

“yeah, but then i have conferences and other motions to worry about,” he mutters. “and then i have oppositions due. oh, and then there’s the two depositions next week.”

and if there was one thing you knew about him, as your boyfriend or not, he was stubborn. your arm around his neck reaches to scratch the back of his head soothingly. you could hear him working himself up about everything he had to do.

“john,” you spoke his name for the second time that night. and before another word could get out, he tugged your face closer to his as his eyes locked on yours. “it’s almost 2am. come to bed.”

you weren’t asking him, even if your voice was still laced with the drowsiness from your slumber, the demanding tone was still present.

“giving me orders now?” he teases, closing the gap between your lips. your hand that previously toyed with his buttons now on his neck while the other held the back of his head. it was a gentle kiss, but the slow movements of his tongue moving against yours building tension in your chest. the lingering taste of a cigar you assumed he smoked recently on the balcony while you were asleep is prominent, but it’s mixed with the taste of toothpaste. he must’ve brushed his teeth after.

“what’s that taste?” your nose scrunches as you pull back from price, the man stood in front of you with his fingers tangled in your hair angles your head to look up at him.

“what?” his voice monotone, confused by your question.

“it tastes like,” your tongue swirls in your mouth and you swallow spit, the taste of tobacco strong. “a cigar?” brows furrowing together trying to determine if you were right.

“mhm,” he hums, tugging you back towards him gently as his lips brush over yours. “i was stressed,” teeth tug at your bottom lip before sucking on it gently and releasing it. “i had one earlier.” now, lips kissing you again before you can comment on him smoking.

hands grasp at his suit jacket, pushing him back gently to break the kiss. “it tastes terrible.”

“come on,” he mumbles, leaning down so his face is to your neck, teeth grazing the skin before he sucks on the skin. your cheeks warm at the realization of his action and quickly pull away from him and head for his closed office door.

“john price!” you hiss quietly, glaring at him. “i’m not leaving your office with a hickey or the taste of cigars in my mouth.” hand reaching for the door handle, you make your way out. he huffs in defeat, body heading to his chair as he sits back down.

despite being close already, your hand at the back of his head pulls him closer to deepen the kiss; body pressed against his as you straddle his lap. he remembered you hated the taste of the cigars, it was such a stupid thing but it made your chest tighten.

chuckling against your lips, his hands reach to securely grab at your ass to support you in his arms. his body rises up from his chair as he sits you down on the edge of the desk, guiding you to lay down. lips never breaking from yours, he reaches for your pants as fingers toy with the string to untie it.

only does he stop when he’s about to tug the pants off, hands pulling his face away from yours.

“john-“ you gasp for air, breathing quickened as you try to catch your breath.

“don’t tell me i need to sleep.” he mumbles, hands still pulling the pants off as you are left on the desk in your panties and shirt. hands grab at your body again to pick you up.

“we’re both not going in tomorrow.” he proceeds to carry you to his bedroom and you can’t help but smile, face nuzzling his neck as you place light kisses.

#john price #john price x reader #captain john price #captain price #captain john price x reader #john price cod #nic talks price #lawyer!price

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bloompompom · 1 year

Text

Remember how I said Eren isn't super into lingerie? Yeah, well, he really doesn’t like it now.

content: ~1.6k words. eren jaeger x fem!reader. switch-y, teasing, a lil nasty, eren dgaf about your expensive lingerie :( explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ a/n: sorry, i have no idea where this came from, so it might be rushed. i hope you don't mind ♡

Eren discovered this hatred when you revealed your newest set to him.

Okay, ‘discovered’ was putting it lightly. If you asked him, he would say it was a lesson learned the hard way.

You finally caved and bought that pretty set you’d been longing for. One crack was all you needed. That moment when you finally said, ‘Fuck it, I deserve this,’ and clicked that little button at the bottom of your phone screen. It wasn’t an impulsive purchase if it’d been sitting in your cart for the last week. Even if it took a glass of wine and an encouraging text from your best friend before you could pull the trigger.

The reason you hesitated—the sole reason you hesitated was because you knew you’d be the only one to appreciate the lingerie. You could see it now. You’d spend all of ten minutes admiring yourself in the mirror, just for your boyfriend to have it on the floor in even less time than that. Like it was nothing more than any old pair of B-tier underwear.

You made it sound harsh. That was what Eren thought, at least. What was the big deal, after all? Of course you looked great in it—you looked great in everything you wore. But that was because you were you, and Eren wanted to see as much of you as he could. Could you blame him?

Don’t get him wrong, you looked fantastic in it. When you surprised him that evening, all cute and giggly, he gave the lingerie the attention it deserved. He even had you do an embarrassing twirl for him. But as soon as Eren pulled you into his lap, the two of you sat on the edge of your bed, he started to play with one of the bra straps.

It was almost at your elbow when you shied away with a gentle roll of your shoulder. “I was thinking I could keep it on. Just for a little while longer.”

It confused him, and he didn’t hide it well. You could read it on his face, eyes bewildered and peeking through the lowly-browed look he was giving you. “Why?”

“It’s something different,” you flirted, like you could possibly sell him on the idea. You even went as far as to walk your fingers up his arm. “Leaves something to the imagination.”

Eren’s expression was steadfast, still unamused. “Isn’t it a little late for that?”

You were keeping it on. “It was expensive!”

“Then why did you buy it?”

“Because I thought it would make me feel good!”

This was it; you could hear it in your voice. The little inflection at the end gave it away. It was the turning point. The tippy top of the mountain. Where this could either become an argument or one of you (Eren) could grow up.

Eren, after spending years at your side, picked up on it, too. And while he was infamous for starting arguments, there was no way he was going to let that happen. Not now. Not with you, wearing something as frail as doilies, perched on his lap. Even if there was a pout on your face, it was the prettiest one he’d ever seen.

His voice was a smooth hum when he said, “I can make you feel good.”

That wasn’t the way you meant it, but you didn’t fight him on it because he had already brought his lips to you. At your neck first, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your skin as he scooped you off his lap and laid you back on the bed.

He leaned over you, breath hot against your ear, with fingers toying along the delicate hem of your panties. There was a shiver down your spine just as he whispered, “And how am I supposed to do that if you keep these on?”

But you were never one to give in that easily.

“Like this,” you purred, pushing lightly against Eren’s chest so he’d roll to your side. You took his hand into yours and snaked it between your legs. You steered his hand for him, the pads of his fingers rubbing over your clothed clit.

Eren felt the wet spot. It coated the tips of his fingers before he even had your panties off—yes, he was still determined to get them off.

He tore a sharp breath in through his nose—pulled himself together—and started to circle your clit, eagerly, and you released his hand from your grasp. You gasped, hands pawing at Eren until you were helping him out of his shirt. It was the only break he gave you, his fingers quick to return between your legs.

“Feels so good,” you whispered on a shaky exhale. Your vision was glossy, heavy lids fluttering over your eyes as you waded in summery pools of pleasure.

Eren’s slick fingers slipped between you, and he used it as an excuse to try and push your underwear aside.

And how tempting it was—to let him have his way with you. With his fingers, his tongue, or his cock. To let him get you off as many times as you wanted, only because you knew he was committed to proving his point tonight.

But, unfortunately for Eren, you were just as stubborn. You corrected him each and every time he let his fingers wander a bit too far. He gave up eventually, not even bothering to peel back your bralette before licking and sucking at your nipples. Even over the flimsy fabric, his warm lips and tongue had you grinding against his hand.

Surely, he must have won you over by now.

Eren kissed his way lower, breath ghosting over your ribs and just below your navel with nothing more than a tickle. He tried again to tug at the band of your panties.

You inched back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Eren bit back his response, offering nothing but a groan. Practically a whine.

He was getting really sick and tired of this fucking stupid, frilly thing.

You were torturing him now. Fueled off nothing but your own amusement. You somehow found teasing him to be more delicious than letting him make you come.

Eren knew it, too. He could see it in that glint in your eye. It was wicked, but God, did it do something for him. So he returned your panties where they belonged.

He brought his mouth between your legs, kissing down your slit, and even that overwhelmed him. He was absolutely pathetic for it, considering there was still a layer separating you, but he was already weak to you. Everything about you was intoxicating. Your heat, your scent—fuck.

He started licking at you like there was nothing between you, like the lace wasn’t rough against his tongue. He was a mess, his cock achy enough to have him rutting into the mattress for relief. He wanted everything you’d give him. Whatever he could get, even if he had to taste you through these goddamn panties.

There was no way you were going to wear those again.

It wasn’t long before they were ruined. Drenched in slick, spit, and the lewd combination of the two after you came.

You were still catching your breath, still caught in the waves of it, when Eren yanked off his sweatpants and flipped you onto your stomach. Your legs were wobbly, too tired to hold yourself up, even on your knees.

It didn’t matter; he pinned you to the bed anyway.

Eren’s thumb hooked the crotch of your underwear and tucked it in the crease of your thigh. He lined his cock up with your entrance, his body caged over you, and waited until you perked your ass up—begging for him not with your words but with your body—before he filled you with a slow and deep tilt of his hips.

That was the softest he was with you. After you had a moment to adjust—feel the shudder that ran through his body as he bottomed out inside you—he fucked you into the mattress. The way he thought you deserved after acting like such a tease.

You loved it so much. So, so much. As tough as Eren wanted to act, you still felt his neediness in every one of his thrusts. He was desperate for you. It had you reeling, high off him and him alone.

You chanted his name in crass moans. “I’m close. I’m gonna—I’m coming,” you whimpered. An announcement that was smothered by the pillowcase.

“You can’t come like this,” Eren taunted.

He knew you were helpless then, twitchy and writhing in ecstasy beneath him. That was the reason you were dumb to it when you heard your panties rip. No, not just rip but tear. Loudly and until they were no longer digging into your sides but crumpled to the sheets.

“That’s better.”

But there was still some use left in them.

Eren pulled out, jerking himself off until he spilled over your back. Gravelly curses and groans buzzed in your ears, dissipating to heavy breaths as he sat back on his knees. He reached for the tattered lace and used what was left of it to clean you up, your body all doughy but still quivering below him.

It was a weak attempt, if you could even call it that. There was no argument, but he had still won, and he wanted to rub it in your face.

You glared at him from over your shoulder. “Those were expensive.”

He flicked them aside like he didn’t even hear what you said.

“You used my card for them,” Eren reminded. Your eyes widen at his knowing smile. “You think I don’t check my own credit card statement?”

He ignored the daggers you were throwing and laughed. There’s that pretty pout again.

“You can buy as many pairs as you want.” He kissed the middle of your back. “As long as I can rip them off.”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren headcanons #eren hcs

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zhongrin · 2 years

Text

sayang

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, diluc, childe, xiao, ayato, kazuha, albedo, al haitham

◇ tags ◇ absolutely teeth-rotting fluff, slightly suggestive on some

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli frequently calls you “dear”, “darling”, and “my dearest”. if you’re married, he would be the type to call you and always refers to you as “(my) wife/husband/spouse”. whenever he feels a little clingy or needy misses you, sweeter nicknames like “treasure”, “jewel”, “sweetheart”, or “little one” would come out, and that’s your cue to drop everything you’re doing to coddle this man.

whatever nicknames you use to refer to him, he loves it all - just your sweet voice calling his name will make his day brighter…. just be careful when you call him with his old archon names, especially in the bedroom ;)

diluc only calls you “beloved” in private at first, but as you get comfortable with your budding relationship he starts to use them in public too.

he finds himself loving the ticklish sensation in his chest when you refer to him as “my boyfriend” or “my husband” when talking with other people. cuter nicknames like “my firefly”, “boyfie”, “hubby”, and “my love” will always bring his cheeks aflame. he abhors his “darknight hero” nickname, but he thinks it’s not so bad when you call him “my darknight”.

childe has an assortment of nicknames he calls you and the list is quite literally endless, but he especially abuses the use of “babe”, “baby”, “love”, and “my water fairy”. oh, and you know those weird nicknames lovers have for each other? that’s the two of you. there are probably a lot of inside jokes between you both for those nicknames, and he especially loves the weirded-out looks you get from strangers because they would never understand.

still, his absolute favorite has to be you whispering his actual name as you stare into each other’s eyes under the moonless nights, with the overabundance of love he doesn't think he deserves contained within your voice - “ajax”.

xiao’s names carry a multitude of memories and significance. a new beginning, a war machine, a symbol of protection, a desperate attempt to save one’s life... but when they fall from your lips it turns into something dear, something precious and pure, free of bloodshed and karma and war. like you’ve washed it anew and cradled it within your warm arms for millennia, your warmth seeping into cold, cracked jade.

he mostly calls you by your name, only because you calling him by his renewed name makes his heart do a little flip and a stutter. but on some rarer days, you might hear him utter sweeter names like “my dreamcatcher” or even “love”...

just maybe.

.... if you’re really lucky.

ayato is a fan of calling you embarrassing nicknames in public so he can see you lose your composure. “sweetheart”, “darling”, “my dear”, “my love”... he has no shame. when your engagement is finalized, there isn’t a day that passes where he doesn’t call you “my fiance” or “my betrothed” at least ten times. people referring you to “mr/mrs/mx kamisato” after your formal union never fails to bring a genuinely proud smile to his lips.

you won’t see him lose his cool no matter how many cringy nicknames you use on him. secretly, he enjoys your attempt and has a tier list of the most amusing ones you manage to think of. so far “my black camellia”, “mr. pillar of teasery”, and “sugar daddy” (he had no idea what it meant at first but he lost it when he finally found out what it meant) are the top three.

kazuha’s nicknames are as poetic and as free as he is. he doesn't settle for any specific names and every day you have a chance of getting a new one, but you’ll know he’s calling for you because he’ll be using that special tone. “dove”, “sparrow”, “maple”, “leaf”, “sunshine”, “moonshine”, “my heart”, “my soulmate”, “my home”, “my one and only” - the list is expanding as we speak.

in turn, you do the same to him, and he would be lying to say that he’s not looking forward to what you’re going to call him today. in fact, it might inspire him to write yet another haiku, which he will write and stash within his drawer, along with hundreds other papers of poems previously written from your influence.

albedo didn't exactly understand the appeal of sweet nicknames until you start calling him things like “my stardust”, “dear”, and “my prince”.

it’s like you opened a floodgate since then. you’re [name] but you're also “my starlight”, “my love”, and “dearest”. he doesn't have a lot of petnames for you but there's always a soft smile on his lips whenever he calls you one. however, this doesn’t seem to extend to when he’s talking with other people - for these occasions, he will still refer to you by your name properly. the only exception is when he’s talking with klee, he always refers to you as “big sis/bro/sibling [name]”, as if he’s prepping for the inevitable future where you three will become a family.

al haitham is another one who mainly calls you by your name. you might think that it hides your relationship from the public eye. but contrary to your thoughts, even blind people would know that you’re a couple, due to the soft undertone in his voice as his tongue rolls carefully to pronounce your name.

you can call him whatever you want and he wouldn’t mind. a few too many embarrassing nicknames in public might break his composure, though.

behind closed doors, he might slip out a “sweetheart” or even “love”. they might sound uncharacteristically gentle and soft compared to his usual selection of stoic words, but just remember to pay attention to his tone, because sometimes he will use them whenever you’ve pushed his buttons a little too far, and it might be a sign for you to back off…..

or don’t?

your choice, really.

ps. if you want to be removed/added from the taglist, just send an ask!

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axelsagewrites · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 2023 List

Welcome to my first ever kinktober, a month long of smutty drabbles and one shots. Hope you all enjoy and if you want added to a charecter/fandom tag list so you dont miss anything let me know <3

NSFW under cut

Masterlist Here

Day one: discrete fun with Robb Stark – deciding to take his teasing to a new level Robb decides to take the sex toys out of the bedroom

Day two: marking with Jace Velaryon – jealous is an understatement for what Jace is feeling so he decides to fix his problems by showing everyone who you belong to

Day three: phone sex with Jamie Tartt – even though he loved to play the long nights away from you were almost impossible to bare so he often found himself hitting call at late hours of the night

Day four: body worship with Podrick Payne – Podrick feels honoured just to be able to touch your body and wants you to hear his praises

Day five: role reversal with James Potter – James is used to being in charge, but things change when one night you decide to give him a taste of his own teasing medicine

Day six: over stimulation with Jon Snow – Jon is eager to please but even more eager to make you a mumbling mess who doesn’t know their own name by the end

Day seven: stepcest/cam girl au with Daemon Targaryen – after Daemons new stepdaughter moves in daemon finds out her naughty little secret

Day eight: dubcon kidnap au with Ramsay Bolton – Ramsay can’t stand the idea of such a pretty creature going unappreciated any longer

Day nine: edging/orgasm denial with Rhanerya Targaryen – since you’re used to get everything you want Rhaenyra decides to show you good things come to those who wait

Day ten: throne/semi public sex with Danerys Targaryen – being the queen is a stressful job and it is your job to help your queen relax even if that means risking getting caught

Day eleven: knife play with Ivar the Boneless – people whisper and wonder how someone so sweet could marry someone so angry, but they don’t see what Ivar does when you’re underneath him

Day twelve: exhibitionism with Tormund – while wildlings talk freely about sex Tormund enjoys watching your blush at even the mention of it making it even more fun to tease you when you come to tend to his wounds

Day thirteen: primal play with Remus Lupin – usually when Remus runs around the forest its not by choice but tonight, he is chasing his favourite prey

Day fourteen: sex toys and teasing with Sansa Stark – after finding a sleek pink vibrator in her top drawer you decide to see what it can really do

Day fifteen: voyeurism with Aegon Targaryen – while you are visiting his family Aegon discovers a secret passage and what he accidentally sees through the cracks makes him want you instantly

Day sixteen: caught in the act with Roy Kent – when Roy came home all he wanted to do was curl up in bed with you but when he heard a buzzing from under the sheets his plans took a very different turn

Day seventeen: mommy kink with Cersei Lannister – while she may be rough and callous to most others Cersei finds herself dotting on her sweet girl in her chambers each night

Day eighteen: corruption kink with Alicent Hightower – a new septa arrive at court but none of the thoughts on Alicent’s minds are holy

Day nineteen: choking with Bjorn Ironside – you may have been captured by the enemies, but the punishment Bjorn gives you is starting to feel like a reward

Day twenty: bondage/wax play with Margaery Tyrell: people may whisper about her brother’s bedroom habits but none of them see the things she gets up to with her ladies’ maid

Day twenty-one: face fucking with Cregan Stark: to gain his loyalty Cregan demands that you earn it, and he enjoys watching the tears streak down your face as you do

Day twenty-two: daddy kink with Sirius Black – the word just slipped out one time but now it’s all Sirius wants to hear from your lips

Day twenty-three: brat taming with Sandor Clegane – after growing sick of a princess’s bratty attitude Sandor decides to teach her how to behave

Day twenty-four: thigh riding/dry humping with Ragnar Lothbrok – after taking a Christian girl prisoner he decides to show you the pleasure a heathen can feel

Day twenty-five: breeding kink with Ned Stark – there is a reason why Ned has so many children and it’s not as noble as many assume

Day twenty-six: collaring with Aemond Targaryen – not wanting to share Aemond decides to invest in something to show that you’ll always be his and only his

Day twenty-seven: double penetration with Jamie Tartt and Roy Kent: they both like you and when they came to settle it once and for all neither of them expected this out come

Day twenty-eight: mutual masturbation with Oberyn Martell – you always heard that the dornish were more sex positive than most, but you hadn’t expected Oberyn Martell of all people to show you just how good it could feel

Day twenty-nine: face riding with Heleana Targaryen – while Heleana appeared shy outside of your chambers when you, her maid, came to tend to her at night she was anything but shy

Day thirty: teacher student au with Jamie Lannister – he knew it was wrong to ask you to stay after class but after one too many short, short skirts he could no longer keep his thoughts at bay

Day thirty-one: orgy/group sex with Aegon, Aemond, Jace, Daemon, and Rhaenyra since after all sharing is caring

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