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#These are more than three sentences but you know whatever
oct0bra1ns · 2 days
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Can I please request, four platonic yandere brothers with helpless y/n who only grew up relaying on their brothers
My god, i take so long to answer, anyways teehee, im finally answering things yayayayay my trip back home is uh not going to happen i think, very sad, anyways also omg, four brothers also also, im lazy so for now, their names are numbers :p
Reblogs and comments are appreciated
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Having four brother to look after you is probably great when you're young but a pain when you're older, combined with the fact their yandere behaviour it's probably hell on earth.
You have to ask them permission for any and everything you do, and unless they say yes, you won't be able to do anything. If involves a friend, one or two will always be hiding in the background in case something happens.
The eldest, One, makes all his brothers report everything to him, where you go, what you do but he himself, never steps in to stop you from doing something, instead, he'll have Two or Three do the dirty work.
One is your beloved brother, who'd never do anything to make you upset, he may be pulling the strings but he'll never out himself as the villian.
One probably has the best job out of all the brothers and he has no problem handing you his card to go buy whatever you want, eat whatever you want. Hell, he takes you to expensive restaurants every now and then.
Even if you ask for a luxury car, he'll get it for you, no questions asked.
What his parents couldn't do, what they couldn't buy you, he'll buy it for you, he'll make sure you never lack in anything, whether it's something you need or something stupid, he'll hand it to you.
Having a good job, also means he's quite busy, but he makes time for you no matter what, one call and he'd drop everything to come to you, after all, his company should be more than equipped to deal with things in the absence of their CEO.
Two is the second eldest, the more strict brother, one who seems he'll scold you for sitting the wrong way, when in reality, he'd never do anything like that.
Despite being the one who finds a way to spoil all the plan One disapproves of, he makes sure to let you down gently, how horrible of an idea it is, how dangerous the outside is, especially when you're so looked after by four brother, the world is not as kind as they are.
Being a professor, Two is out most of the day but when he comes back, he always makes sure you have something to eat or buying something you want to eat. There isn't a single day he doesn't come back with a trinket in his hand.
Two is the brother you go to when you're having trouble with your assignments, he'll take all the time he has to explain it to you, no matter how busy you are, no matter how many assignments he has to complete, he'll always ready to explain things to you If you ever go into the same field as him, he'll pull some strings to get you into the same college he works in.
Two knows better than anyone how much you hate when people raise their voice at you, after all, he was the one who always comforted you after you got yelled at for not being able to understand your school work.
Two does not hesitate to go argue with the teacher if he sees and mishap in your grades, Two has years of experience and multiple connections, he'll make sure that teacher never gets to grade another paper again or if you get a lower grade than expected, he;ll go through the paper with you.
Three is someone who quiet, but the moment he opens his mouth, only sarcastic sentences and insults fall out of his mouth and even you as his sibling are not immune to this, although, he might tone it down so he doesn't get smacked by One again for making you upset.
Three is the brother you'd call after getting in a fight or if people were being creepy towards you, he wouldn't hesitate to break their nose off, and he always reaches the spot suspiciously fast.
Three might not be as rich or smart as the other two but he sure as hell knows how to deal with problems through violence. It's the only way he knows to look after you, you who used to get into ridiculous arguments, who used to stand there and accept every insult, not doing anything afraid to disappoint One or Two. He used to deal with people back then, he used to drag you away when your parents were fighting over something stupid, if he could he would have made sure you never has to see those things but back then, he wasn't as strong nor was he as capable as he is now.
Three is the brother you go to when something goes wrong with your car/bike, he'll fix it up for free, arguing how it got this bad because you took it to some random mechanic outside.
God forbid, Three ever find out a mechanic overcharged you with something, he'll go down there and pick a fight before demanding One to shut down the place.
Four is the youngest and closet to you in age, someone who's always up and about. He'd be dragging you to different places to try out different things.
Always going against One and taking you places, One disapproves off, claiming how you'll be completely safe with him and that nothing could go wrong.
Four knows how much it upsets you when Two or Three stop you from going somewhere when everyone is busy, so he makes it a point to take you there whenever he's free.
Four has always been stuck to your side like glue, back in school when no one wanted to sit with you and now when all your friends happen to be busy all the time.
He'd make it a point to show how awful your friends are, hanging out with others while ignoring you everytime. Unlike the other three, Four doesn't mind if your feelings get hurt a bit, perhaps sitting in a cafe, waiting for your friend for hours will teach you how unreliable they are and how much better your own brothers are, when they drop everything to come attend to your needs.
Of course, he doesn't go too far, four is well aware how one already disapproves of his ways and the last thing he needs from his brother is a lecture.
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katrinawritesthings · 2 years
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glow in the dark stars (that's one word) jongtae bedroom :)
Taemin holds Jonghyuns arm, gently poking around the star-shaped scabs of his newest tattoo on the inside of his forearm. It was kind of an impulsive one, Taemin thinks; Jonghyun didn't mention that he wanted to get a new tattoo until they had already been visiting Taemins family in his childhood home for a few days. But they found a little parlor close by and everything went well and now they're back in Taemins old bed, just like when they were teenagers, underneath his old posters and old knick knacks and old glow-in-the-dark stars and--
"Hold on," Taemin says. He squints at Jonghyuns arm, then looks up at the ceiling.
Quickly, Jonghyun takes his arm back to himself, cheeks burning. "what?" he asks defensively. Taemin gets up, closes his curtains, turns off the ceiling light, and walks back to Jonghyun in the dark, grabbing his wrist and pulling his arm out.
The constellations freshly tattooed onto his skin match the glowing stars scattered over Taemins ceiling exactly.
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cerise-on-top · 1 month
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heyhey!! just wanted to say your works are amazing and i love them so so so SO much aagghhh!!
now onto the request— what if,, what if reader knew a ton of languages like nikolai does, and they call their s/o pet names in those languages. an example would be,, maybe if they knew french they would say 'mon chéri' or perhaps they picked up romanian at some point and would call them 'dragă'
the characters i have in mind are price, nik, alejandro, & rudy, if that's okay !! (´▽`)
sorry for the super long ask, lol :')
Hey there! Thank you, that makes me really happy to hear :D And don't worry about sending longer asks, I really don't mind ^^ Also, that request is really cute! I love reader speaking several languages and being a sweetheart in all of them :D
Price, Alejandro, Rodolfo and Nikolai with an S/O who Knows Many Languages
Price: I think he knows quite a few languages himself, being a captain in the SAS and all. Not nearly as many as Nikolai, but he probably knows a good three to four languages, so he likely wouldn’t be entirely clueless when you call him something along the lines of mon petit chou fleur. While he won’t understand every term of endearment you call him, it does warm his heart to hear you speak a language he doesn’t know. It flows off your tongue very nicely and he just loves listening to you. Depending on what kind of language it may be, even the profanities sound nice. Although whenever you want to get his attention, just to call him something in a language he doesn’t understand, he sort of expects it to be some cute pet name. Will always smile at you, even if you were to call him your albernes kleines Kaninchen. Retorts with a pet name in one of the languages he speaks. Sometimes he does feel the urge to learn a new language, just for you. Or maybe you could learn a new language together? Practice with each other and just have a good time overall? He might bring up the idea at some point.
Alejandro: Like Price, he probably knows a few languages himself. More than the average person, but not nearly as many as Nikolai. So probably three to four as well. However, because he knows Spanish there’s a good chance he can derive most words in a Romance language. Call him something along the lines of giliw and he’ll always retort with some embarrassing pet name in Spanish. Yes, he knows several languages himself, but that doesn’t mean he won’t almost always revert to Spanish anyway. Pretends that you’re using your languages against him and calls you a traitor. And, as is the rule in your household when you’ve betrayed him, you will be held accountable. Lots of chasing through the house. Will “interrogate” you to get you to tell him what you said. Call him a term of endearment in Spanish and you won’t ever hear the end of it. No matter how many times he hears you call him guapo, he always gets that goofy grin on his face. Might research embarrassing terms of endearment to use on you in any other language. And yes, his goal is to find a language you don’t speak. Once he’s found one? He’s not gonna let you live it down. He’s bested you, and that’s all he wanted.
Rodolfo: You’d actually have to call him by his name if you want his reaction since he usually just tends to block out people speaking a language he doesn’t know. Why bother trying to understand someone like that? It’s not like he’ll learn the language overnight anyway. Rodolfo knows about three languages, so not as many as Alejandro. But he knows English and Spanish, which means he can communicate in most places anyway. He thinks he knows enough languages since learning one takes roughly an eternity and he doesn’t have the time for that anyway. Call him Cục vàng and he’ll just look at you as though you’ve grown a second head. You’d have to tell him what it means and then he’ll smile. While he will always appreciate a good Hartlam, he might look at you confused until you tell him you love him. Might not always retort with a pet name of his own, but will mix it up among the languages he does know since he doesn’t wanna seem too stupid next to you. Will also sometimes look up new terms of endearment in languages he doesn’t know so he can surprise you, but might get a bit shy since he might botch the pronunciation a bit. But he tries, and that’s all that matters.
Nikolai: He canonically knows eight languages, so there’s a good chance he knows what you’re saying. Even when you’re saying something in a language he might not entirely know, he might be able to derive the word from a language he does know. Although he may love any pet name you give him, he especially loves any Russian ones since he’s very attached to his country and his native tongue. Goes absolutely wild whenever you call him radnoy. There’s just something so sweet about you calling him something nice in Russian, doesn’t even matter if you botch the pronunciation. Will always give you a hug and a kiss to your forehead since he will always be reminded of how much he loves you. But even a simple min søde skat will get him to smile, even if he has no idea what it means this time. Because of you he might be inspired to pick up some new languages along the way, maybe even ones you don’t know so you can get the same treatment he does with you. Whenever you speak a language he doesn’t know he gets heart eyes for you. You’re just so gorgeous, you’re just so very smart. However, at some point he will just start speaking Russian to you, even if you don’t know the language. He won’t say anything mean, he’ll just tell you how precious you are and how much he loves you.
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actualtoad · 2 years
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i have a bad stomachache again today
#…anxiety?#it doesn’t really feel like my period anymore it feels like im just scared#being mentally ill feels so stupid especially when there’s so many layers like this because it’s like#idk. when i get just regular anxious i always feel like. man. of all the things my brain could be worrying about#like i could be having a bpd spiral right now and the most interesting thing my mind wants to do is give me an unexplained stomachache????#i’ve been fully tangled in delusions multiple times this week and my brain is like. hey have a tummyache??#and it’s like. i don’t count it as real mental illness but dang if it’s not contributing to my bad mental health. so i should shut up#and deal with the fact that some of my brain problems are harder to reckon with than others#it’s probably silly and strange that i feel like delusions are more reasonable than regular dread but like. this just feels so dumb#okay so um#nothing to do first hour. second hour work on project. third hour sew my jacket. fourth hour movie worksheet. fifth hour movie worksheet#and i have three and a half cards to give. one of them i’ll give today#the thing is im literally giving my chem teacher a two page letter about how awesome he is but im still nervous about him#like there’s a lot of things to be thankful for but im still just a little off put by him being so friendly?#and so i kind of just feel weird giving him a card. idk. but i don’t want to not recognize how helpful and understanding he’s been so i will#the other cards are less of anything it’s just around three sentences per teacher of: listen i know i don’t turn in enough assignments but#i think you’re rad. love how you do [a] and [b] in your class#mme peterson’s is going to be a little longer and also en français but otherwise still a little boring#but mr hidaka’s is two pages long thanks him for everything says there’s no way it’s a full goodbye and that he makes me feel safe#which is true when im around him just not when i get home and THINK about him and so idk. but idk. he’s a nice guy. whatever#im giving him his card today the other people are getting theirs on the last day. but also his isn’t really a card it’s more of a letter#they’re all letters actually. just some of them are very short letters. but none of them are really cards#anyway i have to do my dumb PROJECTS and not fail my CLASSES and there’s not that much left but it still feels like so much#also i had to fall asleep last night with the fake sounds of a fireplace to drown out screaming parents. so. not doing the best at home#but. i should start getting ready for school. im just kind of here#me. my post. mine.#delete later
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jewishrat420 · 4 months
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No one has ever flirted with Steve the way Eddie flirts with Steve.
And it's not like no one flirts with Steve. God, no, it's not like no one flirts with Steve. Steve can't walk into the grocery store without at least three sets of heads turning and focusing all their attention on him.
And he's not even trying to be cocky about it. That's just the reality he was gifted when he came out of his mother's womb looking like the world's freshest Adonis. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they changed the colloquialism to "Steve."
Regardless. For as many people like to flirt with him, make themselves known, filtering in and out of his orbit like willing planets, no one knows quite how to get him going like Eddie. Maybe it's that they're not as confident as he is, maybe they're scared of the rejection Eddie was born facing and will die knowing.
Maybe they're scared of ruining their chances. Maybe Eddie isn't.
For whatever reason, Eddie doesn't seem like he's scared. Even though there was a long time before he knew Steve was bi, was just as into the flirting as Eddie was, even though there was a chance (not like it'd ever happen, but the unknown was there) that Steve could have beaten him up just for calling him "sweetheart," he did it anyway. He got right up into Steve's space, close enough that Steve could get high off the remnants of the joint he'd smoked earlier, and gave him a look that offered everything.
And, God, Steve wanted it. He wanted it all.
And so that began months of what Steve has so aptly referred to as torture. Apt, because he knows what it's like. He has the scars and the fear of ice cream and needles to prove it.
But this... this is a different kind of torture. Mental, emotional, spiritual, whatever you call it-- this is meant to tear him apart from the inside out, meant to make him want to rip his own bones out from his body and offer them to Eddie if it meant the other man making a fucking move.
And Steve would, is the thing. He would absolutely make the first move-- it's what he usually does, anyway, and he's got a pretty damn good success rate for it.
But, for whatever reason, this feels different. This back and forth they have, the constant teasing, the sliding in and out of each other's orbits, unable and unwilling to refute the most fundamental laws of gravity... it's something special, at least to Steve. Something sacred.
Which is why, when Eddie calls Steve "Harrington" for the first time in months, his first response is to pout.
They're about halfway through splitting a joint, the sweet smoke curling around wisps of hair and parted lips and filtering in and out of the holes in their sweaters. The air outside is getting colder, thinner, sharper, as the winter months dreg on. But inside the trailer, it's comfortable and warm. Safe.
Steve's being a bit of a hog, and he's man enough to admit that. But he had a shitty day at work and all he wants is to feel nothing other than the weightless relaxation of a good high buzzing through his bones. Sue him for taking a little more than his fair share of the good stuff, even if it is Eddie's.
"Steve," Eddie whines, reaching his hand out and curling his fingers in request. "Give it over."
"No," Steve responds, just on the edge of whiny. He brings the joint to his lips and takes a long, slow, deep drag, feeling the sweet heat of the smoke burning in his lungs, taking up the space where oxygen should be. He goes a little dizzy with it, feels his eyes lower. "Mine."
Steve can't see it, but he knows Eddie's rolling his eyes. Can sense the shift in the air, can sense every little fucking thing about Eddie at any given moment.
"C'mon, Harrington, you're being a brat."
And, normally, Steve would find another aspect of that sentence to freak out about. Would zero in on the word brat and relish in the flare of heat it sends shooting up his spine like firework sparks. Would squint his eyes at Eddie and tilt his head in the way he knows makes him look good, would give him his cutest little smirk and say, "Who, me?" and would preen in the response it gets.
This time, though, he's much too focused on the other name Eddie used for him. The one he hasn't heard come out of Eddie's mouth since before he realized that Steve was, as he put it, "actually a good dude."
He doesn't realize he's pouting until the sudden silence in the room starts to creep in, make a home in the buzzing in his ears. He didn't realize that he didn't say anything, and neither did Eddie, and now they're sitting in a mess of their own making. Of Eddie's own making, really.
His next words come out without effort, without intent.
"Don't call me that."
He chances a look over at Eddie, at the risk of appearing as vulnerable as he feels, and to his distress, he can't get a read on the man. His dark eyebrows furrow, brown eyes squinting slightly, and his lips part like he wants to speak. He licks them. Steve's eyes follow the motion unintentionally.
"Call you what?" Eddie says on an exhale. "A brat?"
Steve shakes his head. "Harrington. Don't like it when you call me that."
Eddie kind of softens, then, and Steve didn't realize he had stiffened until he isn't anymore. He sort of sinks into the couch, spreads his legs imperceptibly wider, and Steve wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the way his left knee brushes against Steve's just barely. Just enough for those heated sparks to send a couple pinpricks across his skin.
"No?" he says, looking over to meet Steve's gaze. His cheeks are flushed, whether from the weed or the heat of the room or the heat between them, and Steve's sure that his look the same. "What do you want me to call you, then?"
Steve's definitely blushing now. He looks away from Eddie, tucks his chin to his chest, lets the joint between his fingers burn away. Eddie takes it from him, gently, and brings it to his lips. Steve hears the paper crackling as he inhales.
His voice is quiet, almost meek, when he speaks. It's completely unlike Steve, completely unlike the persona he used to so proudly take on-- but then again, Eddie is completely unlike anyone that Steve has ever met. He's more real, more human, and in turn, Steve is too.
"...You know."
Eddie makes a little noise, then, something in the back of his throat that was born and died within the very same second it was released. Something soft, almost pained, like his body couldn't help the reaction it had to that sentence.
Steve watches the thin, long line of Eddie's arm reach forward and press the joint into the glass of the ashtray. He follows the motion until Eddie's hand settles into the rips over his knee, fingers intertwining with the thread. His pinkie is dangerously close to Steve's own sweatpant-covered skin, and he feels the contact as if Eddie were touching him.
Eddie's hand twitches like it wants to move, and Steve resists the urge to grab it, hold it within the warmth of his own palms.
"Do I?" Eddie says, his voice quieter than it was a moment ago. That thick silence fills the trailer once more, settling in between the soft buzzing of the lightbulb in the kitchen and the muffled humming of the crickets outside. Steve hears Eddie take a stuttering breath. "Tell me."
Steve sighs, feeling his chest burn as his heartbeat picks up. His throat pounds with the pulsing of it. He places his own hand on his right knee, pinkie finger edging closer and closer to the space where Eddie's meets his. Eddie's hand twitches again.
"Like it when you call me sweet things," he says on an exhale, as though getting it out all in one breath would make it easier. "Like how it makes me feel."
Eddie lets out another one of those noises, then, something more like a cut-off groan. His hand curls into the fabric of his jeans for no more than a second before he releases it, and Steve gets to watch as the blood blanches and then returns to his knuckles.
"Sweet things, huh?" he muses, voice only slightly strained. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say Eddie is nervous. "Like... Stevie?"
Steve hums. "Yeah. I like that."
Eddie's pinkie moves closer. Barely. Imperceptibly, if not for the way Steve is tuned into his every movement, like a dog to the sound of their owner's keys.
"Yeah?"
Steve hums again.
"What about... sweetheart?"
Steve closes his eyes. Lets out a shaky breath, inhales a smoother one.
"Yeah."
Steve feels something brush against his pinkie. Something warm.
"Honey?"
Steve nods, biting his lip. "Mhm."
Eddie lets out a quiet little laugh. "Even big boy?"
Steve returns it helplessly, feels the edges of a smile pulling at his lips. The air feels cold on his teeth, as though he's burning up from the inside out and anything outside of his own body is a cooling salve.
"Especially big boy."
Eddie laughs a little louder, and the jostling of his body brings his pinkie even closer to Steve's. Completely pressed against his own, now.
Steve swears he can feel his heartbeat through it. Or maybe it's his own.
"What about..." Eddie takes a breath. "Love?"
Steve's own breath hitches. He opens his eyes, looks at where their skin is touching in more than one place. He feels it, feels every point of contact where the cells that make Eddie are existing with the cells that make Steve. Wonders, maybe, if they stay here long enough, if they'll merge and mold over time. Become one.
"Yeah," Steve breathes. "I like that one a lot."
Eddie hums, and the room falls back into silence for a moment. Steve's skin burns where their fingers are touching. He moves his hand to the right, just barely, just enough to let Eddie know that he feels it. Just enough to ask Eddie if he does, too.
His response is overwhelming.
Eddie moves his hand to the left, solidifies all the points of contact between them, and Steve feels like he's exploding. Feels like a bubbling pit of lava that's set to burst, to overflow, like it can't hold back anymore. Like it's tried for so long that it's hurting, now, pressurized and boiling and hot, way too fucking hot.
And then, Eddie crosses his pinkie over Steve's, and Steve thinks he's dying.
He takes in a sharp breath like it's the last one he'll ever get, and he doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed about it. He knows Eddie is right there with him, knows he's not the only one feeling this irrefutable pull like gravity between them. Knows, hopes, it's only a matter of time before they collide.
Eddie hums again. He taps his pinkie once over the smallest of Steve's knuckles, almost like he's making a decision. He takes a long, slow breath before he speaks.
"You know which one's my favorite?"
Steve's throat clicks. "Which?"
"Look at me."
Steve turns his head to the right for no more than a second before Eddie's lips are on his.
It's hungry, it's indulgent, it's immediately addictive. It feels like breathing.
Eddie presses his whole body against Steve's, and he can feel the way his tendons flex where his hand is covering the back of Steve's. Where their pinkies meet, their fingers intertwine and cross over one another like the roots of a tree, their bodies the whole mycorrhizal network.
The next word is spoken against Steve's lips, and Steve can feel the way his mouth forms around it. Decides, from this moment on, that he never wants to hear it another way.
"Baby."
Steve's exhale is more of a moan, a dying sound that, like Eddie's before, lived for only a moment in his throat before pushing through the wall of his lips. Eddie takes it, holds it in his own mouth, swallows it down hungrily and slides his tongue against Steve's as though asking for more.
"That's--" Steve pants, getting his hands on Eddie's hips and pulling until he's seated in his lap. "Mine too."
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, his lips still pressed against Steve's. Their words are muffled against each other, but they don't need to hear them to understand. They only need to feel the outline of them, the shape of the consonants and vowels against and around each other's tongues. They only need to press their bodies together and know, intimately, the meaning in each other's hearts.
"Yeah. Want you to call me that forever."
This time, Steve feels Eddie's laughter against his lips. His chest. Feels it bubble up in the space between his ribs, feels it flow into his mouth like a river, swallows it down like the first glass of water after a run. Feels his own creep up behind his teeth in return, gives it back to Eddie like an offering, who takes it greedily. Hungrily. Gratefully.
"Think that can be arranged, baby."
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papercorgiworld · 6 months
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Apologies and love confessions
The Slytherins guy’s are jealous because you have a date. When your date flops, they show up: to make up or make out, or both…
General story introduction and then you pick your favourite Slytherin. Or all of them, I won’t judge.
Theo, Blaise, Enzo, Draco and Mattheo.
Warning: a little bit of smut bc of Enzo and Mattheo ofc.
Not proofread, so if a sentence hurts your brain, my apologies. Let me know and safe an innocent reader.
After months of not writing, I present you… whatever this is.
You took one last look in the mirror and turned to your friends, Pansy and Hermione. “Acceptable?” You asked sheepishly. “More than acceptable.” Hermione smiled. “Hot.” Pansy bluntly stated.
It was a late Saturday afternoon as you made your way to the great hall to meet your date. A few days ago, Neal - a Ravenclaw one year older than you - had asked you out. You hadn’t talked much but all of your friends liked him and he wasn’t bad looking. As you almost reached the great hall you ran into the notorious Slytherin boys. When you spotted them you wanted to turn on your heels, but Enzo already called for you. “Y/n, you’re looking fine.” He slurred the last word a bit as he looked you up and down. Your cheeks went red as all the guys stared. “Ah, your date’s today, right?” Blaise asked nonchalantly. You nodded, getting a little nervous. “What was his name again? Dirk… Dean?” Draco asked with his usual voice filled with arrogance and annoyance. His eyebrows went up and down as he leaned against a wall with his arms crossed. “Neal. And I should be going.” You blurted. Theodore was slow to move aside and you passed him, his eyes never leaving you. As you walked away you could hear Mattheo snicker and your heart sank.
Up until recently you had gotten along with them just fine. You were Pansy’s friend and by association also theirs. Just like you were Ron and Harry’s friend because of your friendship with Hermoine. However, there was a difference. You always wanted to be liked by the Slytherin guys, or just by one. Unfortunately, ever since you mentioned you were going on a date they had collectively decided to ridicule your every move. Making you feel terribly insecure.
***
Your date flopped. Neal was a great guy. Accept for the fact that he was obviously still hung up on his ex-girlfriend. When you entered the Three Broomsticks and chose a table near a window, he told you his ex liked to sit by the window too. When you ordered drinks, Neal told you his ex didn’t like your choice of drink. When he mentioned her for a third time, you fell silent and gave him a tight lipped smile. Oh Merlin. This was the worst.
After a little over an hour you said your awkward goodbyes. You started to walk back to Hogwarts, dreading the idea of telling your friends about your date or worse all those other gossiping people finding out.
As you arrived at the courtyard the ones you wanted to avoid most were there. You tried to subtly speed walk past them. This time it was Mattheo who was first to speak. “Y/n! You’re back early.” You simply sighed and Mattheo smirked. “How long were you gone? Didn’t even last two hours.” Mattheo turned to Theodore who let out a short laugh. Pansy who sat next to Enzo shot up and started yelling. “Oi, shut it!” Your friend took your arm to guide you away from them, towards the castle. “Pay up, Blaisy-boy. Not even two hours, so I win.” You heard Riddle say and you shot one last look at them, seeing how Blaise grimaced and reached inside his pockets to pay up. You were nothing more than a joke to them.
Pansy held onto your arm while you walked towards your common room. Hermoine spotted you from afar and pushed Ron and Harry aside to get to you. “So how was i…” Hermoine’s question was cut of my Pansy aggressive signal to shut up. “So, should we hex him?” Hermoine suggested as she saw that your eyes were welling up with tears. “No, it’s not him. I mean it was a bad date. But, so what. No biggie. But those, those, those… twats! They, they are the worst!” You yell, attracting the attention of students nearby. Hermoine looks over to Pansy with a confused look. “Will hex all five of them.” Pansy said and Hermoine caught on, she knew exactly which five morons you were talking about.
You nodded and sighed. “I need a moment alone. I’m going up to the astronomy tower for some quiet time.” Your friends were understanding and you left.
Theodore
“This is my hang-out.” Theodore says, pulling you out of your train of thoughts. “This is the spot people go to when they’re sad. If this is your hang-out, then that says a lot about you.” Theo halts for a moment, feeling a little exposed by your analysis, but joins you nevertheless, his arms resting on the railing. You notice how he plays with a cigarette between his fingers. “I won’t light it. I know you don’t like it when I smoke.” You raise your eyebrows. “I also don’t like it when you ridicule me, but that’s never stopped you or your merrie band of delinquents from mocking me.” Now, it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.
He’s about to open his mouth and give you some lame excuse for his behavior, but you stare at him with unimpressed eyes. So, he closes his mouth and lets out a nervous laugh. He takes a step back from the railing and throws his hands up in surrender. “I’ll admit, I’ve not been on my best behavior the past week.” Now, he has your full attention. You wanna hear what he has to say. “But neither have you.” He points to you and you scoff, no longer wanting to listen. “Going on a date with… what’s his name again. Of course everyone’s laughing.” You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Unbelievable.” You sigh.
“How about you go out with me? No one will laugh.” When you didn’t immediately respond he tried to sell the idea a little. “I’ll tell Matt and the others to behave. No more mocking.” You tilt your head in amusement to his suggestion. This guy, unbelievable. “You can do that, tell them to behave?” Theo takes a step closer towards you, leaving no space between you two. “Uhu.” He absentmindedly breathes while his hand softly caresses your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “And will you behave?” You ask, subtly taunting him. “I’ll be good.” He says softly and licks his lip.
“I’ll think about it.” You say taking a step and putting some distance between you two. But Theo quickly reaches for your arm, pulling you back towards him. “Don’t play with me.” As soon as you look into his eyes, his lips are on yours. The kiss is filled with longing, his thumb brushing your cheek as he pulls you in. Theo pushes you against the railing, never breaking the kiss. Your hand finds their way to his messy hair. The more you tug on one another and push into each other, the sloppier the kiss gets. He squeezes your ass and as a reflex you gently buck your hips into him. “Fuck.” He growls. You smile at his reaction and seize the moment to push him away.
Walking past him, you never take your eyes off the confused man. “I’m looking forward to that date.”
Blaise
“I lost a bet because of you.” Blaise says with a loud voice while he’s still on the stairs almost at the top, but still out of sight. You turn towards the stairs waiting for him to arrive. “I mean really, not even two hours.” “No.” You cross your arms in annoyance. “I mean you're annoying sometimes, but-“ You shove his shoulder. “I was not annoying! I AM never annoying. I’m a blessing to be around.” He raises his eyebrows, but you ignore him and continue your rant. “You! You on the other hand are frankly unbelievably childish!” You poke his chest, being more than a little shocked at how muscular he is, but you push that thought aside. “Betting on my misery, have you no shame!”
He spreads his arms in defense. “Well, that was Mattheo’s idea. No morals, that guy.” You raise an eyebrow in response. Just Mattheo. Think not. All of you, you’re a bunch of demon children. “You joined in.” You throw at him, like a lawyer making their case. “And lost.” Blaise says sheepishly. “Don’t be mad at me. I lost money, my day is already bad enough.” You turn on your heels, away from him. “Well what about my shitty day.”
“Ah, about that, your shitty day, I can make it better.” In a split second you’re facing him again, eyes shining with curiosity. “This better be good, Zabini.” He simply grinned. “There’s this guy, who’s been into you for months now. Incredibly hot. Sixpack and everything. Really into quidditch, a bit of a jock, but also really likes wizard chess and magic history. And has a soft side, secretly loves to watch muggle-movies. That’s some boyfriend material, uh?” You’ve been nodding along searching for the catch.
“What’s the catch, Zabini, no dude’s that good. Definitely not one that happens to have a thing for me.” He smiles as takes a step closer. “He would like to ask you out. So.. what do y’say?” You drop your head and shake no. “I’m not going out with him until you tell me what the catch is.” “Fineee, the catch is… he’s me.” You frown in confusion. “You, Blaise Zabini, want to go out with me?” A nervous and adorable smile appears on his face. “Yeah, and I would like it to last longer than two hours.” You give his shoulder a little push. “Depends, are you going to talk about your ex the entire time?” “What? That’s how Dirk ruined your date? What a git.” His name was Neal, but whatever. I got a new and better date.
Enzo
Enzo has his back against the railing. His eyes trace your face. “Didn’t go well did it?” Your eyes meet his and he sees your forehead wrinkle at his stupid question. “Well, look on the bright side. You’re back on the market.” You shift yourself so you’re leaning against the railing with your side and facing Enzo. “I was never off the market. I went on one date.” He also shifted so he’s facing you. “Yeah, you’re right. I was overreacting. I shouldn’t have worried so much.” You look confused at him, but he doesn’t immediately explain. “Why were you worried?”
“Well, uhm, you know, maybe you would’ve liked him.” He tried his best to sound casual, but you could tell he was a little nervous. You took a small step towards him. “Why would that be a bad thing?” He huffed like the answer was obvious. “Because it’s wrong to ask out a girl who's dating.” You frown. “You’ve lost me, Enzo, I don’t follow.”
“Wait, wait. This will clear it up.” He closes the space between you two and cups your cheek. What followed was the softest kiss ever. After a moment you both opened your eyes, but didn’t move away from each other. “See, I couldn’t have done that if you were dating Neal.” You nodded. “I follow.” You brushed your lips over his. A cheeky smile covered his face. “You know, if you’re interested… there are a lot of things we can do now that it’s just you and me.” “Care to give an example.”
“My pleasure.” Is all he says before his hands find their way to your hips lifting you up. Your legs tangle around him as he pushes you against a wall. The cold stone makes you arch into him. His mouth nips on the flesh of your neck. “You and I should go on a date.” Enzo breathes in between kisses. “You two need to find a room.” You're both startled by Neville’s sudden appearance. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Enzo says, looking at you with lust. “Mine or yours?” You ask as you lick your bottom lip.
Draco
You sighed, letting the view and silence calm you. Suddenly you hear footsteps and when you look up Draco’s walking towards you with his usual flair. “What a tool, that Neal-guy. Taking you to the Three Broomsticks.” You roll your eyes and look away from him. “You should’ve known, a guy like him is no good.” Before he opens his mouth again you whip your head around towards him, eyes ready to kill. “He’s no good? Neal’s not the problem. You are! You’re no good, with you mocking and ridiculing. You’ve been acting like a total ass the last few days! So get lost, Malfoy!”
Draco remains quiet for a moment. The frown on his face grows as he realizes his jealousy might have taken the upper hand these past few days. Falling back in his normal composure, his hands reach for the cold railing as he comes to stand next to you. “I just didn’t think it was a good idea. You, going out with him. You need someone who buys you a dress and takes you to a fancy place.” When you look up at him in confusion, he continues staring in front of him. “I think you deserve better.” You huff, indulging his lame excuse for his behavior. “Know any guy like that?” You blurt out thinking back to your miserable date.
Draco inspects the rings on his fingers as he searches for the courage to say what he so badly wanted to say these last couple of days. “Me.” He says so quietly you almost didn’t hear, but you did and you look up at him with wide eyes. Where is this going? “I would like to take you somewhere fancy. Spoil you.” You let out a laugh and he immediately snaps at you. “No, need to laugh. A simple ‘no thanks’ would have sufficed.” You press your lips together and take a step towards him. The scowl on his face falls when your hand reaches for his tie, gently playing with it. “I think I’m going to take you up on that offer, Malfoy.” Your face inches towards him and his lips brush yours.
The kiss immediately becomes more passionate and his hand tangles in your hair holding you in place. His other hand snakes to the small of your back pulling you close. You whimper softly at the feeling of your bodies against one another. This gives him the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss even more. You break apart to catch your breath, but you stay close. “You were jealous, weren’t you?” Draco scoffs. “Not. It’s simply a matter of principle. Classy women belong with classy men.” You roll your eyes. “Draco, kiss more, talk less.” He huffs in annoyance, but obliges.
Mattheo
“I told you so.” Mattheo’s voice sang as he approached you. You didn’t turn around, instead you just rolled your eyes. “That guy just wasn’t for you. Don’t be so upset about it.” You shook your head. What’s he even doing here? Shouldn’t he be laughing behind your back with friends? When you stayed quiet Mattheo got worried and his tone softened. “He didn’t hurt you or anything? ‘Caus I’ll deal with him. He’ll never bother you again.” Okay that’s it, Riddle. You angrily grab onto the railing you were leaning on before turning around fuming. “He didn’t hurt me. He was just boring. But you on the other hand, you hurt me with your constant mockery. So why don’t you punch yourself in the face and stop bothering me.” Mattheo looked away from you for a moment, making you think he actually felt bad. But when he looked back up, he was back to being his cocky self. “Can’t punch this pretty face.” He said, pointing at himself, grinning.
You turned away from him, hoping that he would leave. You couldn’t see it but his face fell again, really feeling bad about hurting you with his stupid jokes. “I just knew he wasn’t the guy for you.” No reaction from you. “Look, we can split my win from the bet with Blaise.” You let your head fall, looking at him from the corner of your eyes. The audacity. He came to stand next to you and also rested his arms on the railing. “I know, I can be an ass sometimes. So, just tell me, love, how do I make this right.” Your eyes meet his, you’re surprised by his gesture. “I guess it’s alright. I’m a forgiving soul.” He turns away from the view, towards you and lays a hand on the small of your back. “No, don’t be forgiving. I’ll do anything to make this right.”
He uses his body language to make it clear that he’s willing to do anything to make it up to you, shuffling closer, leaning into you and licking his lips suggestively. “Are you really trying to seduce me into forgiving you?” You ask not believing that that’s the best he can come up with. “Well no, love, I’m going to fuck you into forgiving me.” This man. Who does he think he is… well, the dark lord’ son, but still. Unbelievable. Mattheo falls to his knees, his hands moving from your back, sliding over your ass to your legs. He looks up at you with soft eyes before gently pushing your skirt up. This man… should be my future husband. Mattheo places soft kisses on your thight, slowly getting closer to your panties.
You close your eyes and let out a soft moan as he gently tugs down your panties. “If we get caught up here. I’m never going to forgive you.” He places a featherlight kiss between your legs and you instinctively reach for his curls. “Are you sure? Because I think I’m really excelling at apologizing, don’t you think so, love?” Damn you, Riddle. You’re good, and you know it.
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sinning-23 · 19 days
Text
Hot Tatted Uncles (Uncle!SukunaAu X Teacher!Reader)
I’ve fallen victim to the unkuna/uncle sukuna au so HAVE THIS
PART 2 UP NOW!!! <------- Click the link here!
_____________________________________________________
“My uncle be fighting people.” Yuji hums, your gaze immediately shooting to the toddler.
“O-Oh really?” You gulp, knowing kids say the wildest things but after you’re first encounter with the pink-hair boy's uncle, you would put it past him.
“Yeah, he. He told me uh-um-.” The boy sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, to which you sigh and directed him to the sink as he continues his story
“Uh- he told me that he beat up this guy and he- uh he won and that the guy lost.”
You fight the urge to laugh, his sentence seeming so long and incomplete. Typical toddler.
“Well we don’t fight our friends right Yuji? You be good and keep your hands to yourself?” You encourage, ruffling the boy's hair as he smiles, one of the fronts missing.
“Yeah! We use nice hands.” Yuji repeats, leaving you with your thoughts as he grabs ahold of a car to play with.
Why would you tell a 2-year-old you beat someone up?! You sigh, scrolling through your contacts, making a note to speak with his father, even though the boy hadn't done anything, it's still concerning that he might feel as if that’s okay since his uncle does it.
It’s quiet for a moment, your other three students Nobara, Megumi, and Mahito playing together….and then it happens.
WHAM!
A still silence falls over the room and soon a roar of cries as Mahito holds the top of his head. In all honestly the child was a problem so whatever he did to get smacked over the head with a wooden block was probably warranted. But the bigger problem was that you biggest fear had come to fruition. Yuji, had hit and essentially started to fight with another child, as Mahito had hit him back. You’d definitely need to speak to his father now.
The rest of the children had gone home now, Yuji being your last child as you closed your classroom down. Your class usually ended around 6:00 and it was pushing 6:15 now. Just as you were about to make your courtesy call, the door opened with the jingle of keys and a throaty chuckle.
"Look at you, giving your teacher a hard time?" The tatted male asks, scooping up a giggling Yuji with a toothy grin. You, however, were far from pleased, giving a tight-lipped smile as he just barely glances your way.
"Hi, I'm Miss Y/n, Yuji's teacher." You announce, taking a tissue to wipe Yuji's nose one last time before he left.
"Uh huh," He responds, grimacing as you wipe the snot away.
"So, Yuji had a pretty good day today, but I did have to have a chat with him about..fighting and hitting other friends." You explain, feeling smaller under his sharp gaze. His face is tatted too, the thick dark lines running along his nose, cheeks, and jawline.
"You in here beatin people up?" He states sharply at the boy who only nods with a smile.
"Yeah! Like how you said you beat everyone up!" Yuji admits ith joy and his Uncle's face falls.
"Yes so, before Yuji hit the other child he told me that you...fight people and I told him that we use our nice hands. But right after that, he had-" "Hit another kid. The parents mad?" He asks, a bit troubled now, most likely mentally cursing himself for kinda causing this whole debacle. \
"W-well I can't really disclose that. The point is, please just chat with him and hopefully, he can learn that's not okay." You explain, feeling a bit more relieved since the convo went smoother than usual. And part of you was a little... flustered with how seriously he was looking at you. You couldn't help but look at his tatted and flexed arm as he moved Yuji to sit on his shoulders.
"Yeah, well, here have my number so if anything else happens and I'm picking up you can just let me know." He hums, pulling his phone skillfully from his sweatpants pocket and
Holy shit...
You think to yourself, seeing the print just faintly. You swallow, taking the divide and inputting yoi contact.
The pair leaves, Your heart trobbbing as you take a breath. Being any type of romantically involved with your students' parents was highly unprofessional...but the rules never said anything about hot tattooed uncles.
-in the car-
Sukuna buckled Yuji into his seat, passing the child a happy meal he'd picked up as payment for a job well done.
"Nice work. How bout next time you mention your Uncles got no girlfriend either." He laughs, backing out of the parking space with your number and a grin.
Authors Note; Ok yes i wrote this on a whim I swear I'm trying to finish the stuff I had listed on my update post lmao
Also might make a part 2 for this cause I freaking love this au
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vanderilnde · 4 months
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I don't know how much it fits but, keeping with the theme of butcher!simon's neighborhood being a bit dangerous:
where I grew up (rough neighborhood) there were often bars/pubs and even gas stations nearby that operated all afternoon/night and guys often congregated outside smoking cigarettes and what not. they never bothered the residents, but they damn well worked as guard dogs and warded off strangers.
so... idea: simon and his buddies hanging out outside the corner pub when reader is coming/going to her second job in the weekends, watching closely to make sure she makes it from the bus/train stop to the building door, especially after dark.
OR
alternatively!! simon who stays up and checks out of his window when reader is coming home after dark and doesn't let himself go to sleep until he hears her door unlocking and her making some type of sound (like closing her rickety door or whatever).
i dont think you understand….. reading this altered my brain so viscerally. guard dog simon. yeah.
-
“Still got yer balls in her purse?”
Simon lights his cigarette. The soft smoulder of it barely offsets the flickering streetlight above them, scarcely illuminates the sidewalk. It shines over his face, hanging from the threshold of his lips.
“Yup,” he hums. “Right where I want ‘em.”
Johnny cackles through the plume of smoke curling up and out of his lips. He pats Simon on the back, taking a long drag of his cig, and bumps his shoulder with Kyle’s.
“When’d’ya reckon he’ll let us meet the Bird?”
Kyle rolls his eyes. “When he finds someone to pay.”
“Put a sock in it,” Simon snarls. Taps the ash off his cig. 
Photo is a generous word for it. But it was the only thing Simon had to testify to your existence. A blurry, smudgy picture taken on his phone. Half-eclipsed by his thumb which was accidentally in the corner of his camera. A picture of you leaving the lift—a shallow angle of you walking in some leggings, returning from work. 
It was privy to Simon. A likeness to indulge in during his work days. But in a flitting moment, Johnny laid his eyes on it. Read him to filth for it.
And now, they’re here. 
Off-white sheets of rain running off the canopy they’re situated under. Each holding a cigarette to their lips, resting against the wet brick of a hole-in-the-wall pub. The warm hum from inside pooling into the empty streets of Manchester.
A thin sound arises from it. The chime of a shopkeeper’s bell, signifying the door is being opened. Into the diving rain, you step out, clutching a backpack against your shoulder, your uniform sticking to your skin.
It’s a heavy mass of muscle you almost run into. You stop yourself with a hand split against their chest, against the fleetly rise-and-fall of their jacket.
You have to hoist your neck up to see him. It takes you a while to reorient yourself, to recognise the depthless copper of his eyes. And it takes you even longer to register the underside of his face. Bare, flooded under the soft light of streetlights. 
“Simon!” You squeak. The succession of his heartbeat pumping under your palm. Two men hovering behind him, exchanging puckish smirks. “What are you doing here?”
Simon’s eyebrows purse like he’s confused. He tilts his head, looking at you like a puppy, and shrugs. “I’m here to pick you up.”
“Pick me up–” a chord of bemusement strikes you, collapsing your sentence. Your reservations catch up to you, hitting you like bricks. “Pick me up?”
Simon grunts. His eyes flicker down to your skirt, how it flurries in the wind, and pulls you beneath the awning. 
“Getting y’rself all wet under there,” he grumbles. “Brought you this.”
Simon holds up an umbrella. He waits for you to take it before splaying his big hand on the hind of your spine and turning you around, shepherding you forward.
Your voice is warped with bashfulness when you speak. “Where’re we going?”
“Home,” he says. Three pairs of footfall tread on your heels. Each one more intimidating than the other. Sticky and wet as they trail behind you.
“Just keep walking, Trouble,” Simon mumbles. “‘m here.”
It’s a shield that keeps everyone away. The invasive eyes, the creeping men that usually accompany you on your walk home after work. But today, they’re silent. 
The three men are a pack of dogs behind you. 
Simon, kissing the ground before you walk on it.
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empyreva · 3 months
Text
Loser's Spoils
Summary: Luke usually loves treating you like his own little goddess, but after you cost him a game of capture the flag...he wants to change things up.
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Word count: 4.1k
Warnings: Established relationship, Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader (not that important), Mean!Luke Castellan, smut, P in V, PWP, oral sex (m and f), fingering, dom/sub elements, slight dubcon (always check in with your partners!!), kink exploration, slapping, some degradation (and praising)
A/N: Shameless indulgence. I tried to stick to this audio as best as I could but I think that in teen/ya relationships, holding a more serious dom/sub dynamic is a little harder so Luke is super good at making sure you're ok because it's all new to him too...Minors DNI!!
Other campers were quick to dodge out of your and Luke's paths, sensing that he would not hesitate to body-check them if they didn't. A cloud of wrath (with a tinge of humiliation) seemed to engulf your boyfriend--They knew better than to question it at all, scurrying back to do whatever chores and tasks they had been mildly interrupted from before.
Before you knew it, Luke had dragged you into your cabin, looking around for any of your, as he put it, 'overly pretentious' siblings. Aphrodite's cabin was empty, much to his delight, and he dragged you into the bathroom with a loud SLAM of the door. Once inside, he let go of you with a slight push, seeming to not pay you any mind as he fussed about the area.
"Luke, what the fuck?" You hissed, rubbing your now tender arm as Luke propped one of the vanity chairs beneath the door knob to ensure no one would be able to accidentally wander in. It was a good precaution--Three too many of your sisters now can't even look at him without becoming almost visibly upset. "What's your problem today?"
"Don't act like you don't know, baby," Luke turned around with a dark look in his eyes, causing you to gulp back any further questions. "You've hurt my feelings today, y'know? First by not joining my team...and then by winning because you know I couldn't hurt my pretty little girl--acting all brave and jumping in to protect that twerp of an Apollo kid."
"Baby, it's just a game..." You reached up to caress his tense jaw, his facade faltering for a split second as he took in your soft touch, "I mean, they just needed another player--that kid is literally like 11 so-" Luke cut off your sentence by roughly pushing you against the vanity counter behind you--glass bowls and organizers full of various makeup products rattling from the force. His hands planted at either side of you, hips flushed to yours. 
"I. Don't. Care," he growled. A whimper escaped your throat, feeling something hard pressing against you--growing in size with every breath that your boyfriend took. "You were disloyal, you won, you know that drives me crazy."
"'m sorry," you mumbled, trying your best to bat your long lashes at him, fingers brushing against the hem of his shirt. This was a common occurrence between the two of you--You 'defeating' the 'best swordsman' just by distracting him enough to let your teammates finish up the game. How could he even raise his sword at a girl like you, batting your lashes and pouting so cutely as a kid scurried off behind you? Even if he seemed mad about losing, losing to you drove him up the wall with desire—I mean, it always ended in Luke making you scream his name until your throat went hoarse, anyway. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."
"Yeah, you will," there was a glint of something sinister in Luke's eyes that unnerved you. It was like you were a piece of meat dangling before a starved wolf, just waiting to be devoured. "I'm not gonna let you off easy this time, baby. No, no...You need to be taught a proper lesson." He glared down at you, but his hand grasped yours gently, thumbing circles against your knuckles. "Ok? Now on your knees."
Obediently, you lowered yourself to the ground, hands in your lap as Luke discarded his belt and cargos quickly. His cock was already dripping with pearls of precum--and you couldn't help yourself as you eagerly took him in your mouth. Your head bobbed unhurriedly as you savored every inch of his hard cock, taking pleasure in the way his hips thrust forward instinctively. He liked it when you took your time, swallowing him whole and gagging. You moaned deeply, feeling his hand brush lightly against the nape of your neck, urging you to slow down.
"Shhh... Look at me," he commanded sternly. His voice was low and gravelly, making your insides quiver. You hesitated briefly before meeting his gaze fully, watching intently as he gazed intently into your soul. There was a fierceness in his expression that sent chills down your spine, and you knew that he meant business. His fingers traced your hollow cheeks, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ears, drinking in this image of you. "You look so cute, so adorable."
That comment flustered you more than the fact his dick was nearly halfway down your throat--and you immediately pulled back, words forming in your throat as the head of his cock brushed against your tongue. A fistful of your hair wrapped around Luke's hand, and he pushed your head until your nose was tickled by the curls of black hair at the base of his dick. "Shut the fuck up and look at me. Let me see my pretty girl."
Nearly, crossed-eyed, you stared up at Luke in a daze, nostrils flaring as you held back your urge to gag around him. He looked so handsome...a certain tortured look marred across his face as he contemplated whether he should cum down your throat while you clawed at his legs or if he should fuck you silly. Tough choice.
"I want to play with you," he finally decided aloud, releasing you from his cock, letting you gasp for air. It didn't last long, though, because Luke was quick to roughly pull you back onto your feet, a strong hand gripping your jaw. You gulped and heaved, daring not to move as Luke pressed up against you, eyes inspecting your flushed and sloppy face. It was just so kissable, his poor little baby. 
His tongue slipped into your mouth before you knew it, and your hands reached up to grab at his curls--pulling him deeper. A collection of quiet moans filled the bathroom, bouncing off the marble floors and pristine white walls. After a few minutes, Luke pulled away cheeks red and burning, staring down at you.
"Take your pants off, just the pants," he commanded, giving you just enough room to fumble with the button of your bottoms. After nervously missing the hole a few times, you were able to slide them off, kicking them to the side. You resisted the urge to rub your thighs together, instead choosing to look haphazardly at the floor. "Good girl, now look at me." 
You faltered, maybe from shyness or maybe from a sudden spark of rebellion, but your gaze remained pointed down at the space between you. Luke was stunned for a moment, tilting his head to the side before letting out a sarcastic chuckle.
"Look. At. Me."
Slap
Your gaze shot up, eyes wide as you began to register the sting radiating in your cheek before it dissipated. His slap wasn't too hard, more of a forceful pat. Eyes locking with yours, Luke seemed to be gauging your reaction, waiting for you to say the words that would have him begging for your forgiveness in a matter of seconds. They never came. 
Slap
"I said look at me when I'm speaking to you." 
Slap
Fuck okay, that one hurt a lot more. You let out a pained yelp, lip quivering as you tried to keep yourself steady. 
Slap
Luke shushed you when you tried to cry out, frowning when you flinched away from his hand--now he was just trying to caress your cheek. A small wave of regret washed over him, and a tightness in his chest pulled tighter. "Come here, it's ok," he beckoned, drawing you into a hug. You buried your face in his chest, biting back whimpers as he reassured you that you were a good girl and you were so brave and so strong for him. 
"Are you ok, baby?" He whispered into your hair, wanting to know before continuing. Nodding slowly, you pulled back to look at him with misty but loving eyes, a small smile stretching across your lips.
"I trust you, you know that." Luke was a man of many curiosities, so you were somewhat acclimated to his sudden changes in wants and needs during sex--even if albeit a bit shocking at first. But deep down, you knew that he would rather stab himself with backbiter a million times rather than force you into anything.
"Love you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The two of you stayed quiet for a second, Luke touching you wherever he so pleased as you fell compliant under his touch. His fingers found yours, bringing one hand up to daintily kiss the back of it--a mischievous grin appearing as you met his gaze. In a split second, his hand was in your hair, tugging your head back sharply, earning a hiss in response.
"Shhh...it's ok, it's ok, baby," Luke's lips trailed down your cheek, ghosting over your neck before planting a few rougher kisses. You whimper, feeling his teeth sink into the tense skin, surely leaving a mark as he suckled and nipped. "Shh, we don't want people to hear us. Don't we?" Luke taunted you with his own deep moan, now moving onto his third mark--pulling away to look at you when he was sure your neck was going to be a nasty shade of 'Luke Purple' tomorrow morning.
"Spread your legs," he murmured, watching intently as you complied--shifting your ass and hips so that your soaking wet panties were on full display. You bit your lip shyly as Luke inhaled sharply, studying the way your squished-up belly rose and fell, the way you seemed to tremble just a little more when he took a step closer. "Good girl--You look so cute." 
He grabbed your throat, forcing you to look up at him, shushing you softly, "I know, I know, It's ok, I know, shh--" A smirk danced across his face before he leaned in, kissing you deeply, fingers feeling how wet you really were. "You're so fucking wet, aren't you embarrassed, slut?" In a quick movement, his open palm collided with your clothed pussy--sending shockwaves through your body. "Shhh...Put your hand over your mouth. Be quiet, be quiet for me." 
You shakily raised your hand to your mouth, chewing on the flesh of your middle as another slap morphed into a gentle stroke. "Are you gonna be quiet for me? Tell me. Tell me." 
"Y-Yes, Luke," you mumbled from behind your hand. His nostrils flared as his name bounced off your tongue, such a sweet sound. "I'll be quiet for you." 
"Good girl--now shut the fuck up." Luke continued to shush you as he pulled the thin cloth of your panties to the side, thumbing over your clit and dipping between your slickening folds. "Sit up there, back against the wall. Now. Good Girl. Shhh--Spread your legs for me, good girl. Just a little more, good job." 
Your sizzling hot skin left behind foggy marks on the mirror behind you as you leaned back--the coolness of the glass doing little to ease the fire inside of you. A slick layer of sweat spread across your body, pooling at the small of your back. Luke continued his teasing touches, evading your pussy and instead stroking the tender flesh beside it until you squirmed. You were breathing too loudly.
"Do you want me to touch you, baby? Then be fucking quiet, ok?" The fake sweetness left an uncomfortable pit in your stomach--but it was quickly forgotten as Luke's deft fingers circled your clit, moving in all the right ways. He knew your body too well, like the back of his hand. "This is all mine. My girl, so cute," he purred, pushing up your shirt and bra in one motion, mouthing at one of your tits as he shifted his forearm. Fingers abandoning your clit, two of them slipped between your folds--teasing and brushing over your hole before abruptly plunging inside with a curl.
"You like this, yeah? Shhh--" The pace was inhuman, the sound of your wet pussy squelching around his fingers growing louder. "You look so pretty." 
You threw your head back, trying to swallow back your whimpers and moans, hips rolling into Luke's touch. Gods, you didn't even realize how much stamina he had with how he plunged his fingers inside of you without even a slight change in pace. "Shut the fuck up, let me take care of you, it's ok, I promise. I promise baby," his cooing was mocking, each word dripping with a promise of something even more sinister than the tortured ministrations at hand. "I'm gonna fuck you so fucking hard. Aww, I can see it in your eyes, you want it so badly, yeah?" 
"Please," you couldn't stop the words from coming out of you, and Luke was quick to silence you. At this angle, you could see his biceps flexing, the way his shoulders tensed and released--it was like a daydream. His free fist wrapped around your neck, causing you to choke on air as you struggled to swallow and gasp. 
"Shh, try to be quiet, shh. Gods you're so fucking wet, you look so pretty." Somehow, he managed to up the speed even more--your toes curling and legs clamping down on his forearm as it flexed and strained to keep pleasuring you. "Do you want me to fuck you? Do you? Say it, say it." 
"Y-yes, yesyesyesyes," you cried out, only for Luke to squeeze your neck even tighter. "So close, please--" He shushed you, lips smashing against yours until your teeth clanked together in the frenzy. Tears welled and spilled your eyes from the mounting pressure in your belly, so close but so fucking far--He knew just how to play you. A flicker of concern came and went from Luke's eyes, and he pressed his body closer to yours, the fabric of his old camp shirt tickling your skin.
"Shh, I know, you're freaking out, I know," Luke pressed his lips to your tear-stained cheek, "Calm down, I know, I know. I'm just fingering you, it's ok." You could hear the faintest 'Don't cry' come out with his next breath, but you honestly couldn't be certain. His hand moved up and gripped your jaw tightly, squeezing it until you couldn't help but protest the pain--prompting him to silence you with his mouth. Tongues battling, his fingers slowed their dangerous pace, coming to a gentle stroke against your fluttering walls. A bridge of saliva kept the two of you connected, pulling tight like a tension wire before snapping as Luke took a step back to admire his work. "You're so pretty--Y'want me to pet your pretty clit, yeah?"
You nodded eagerly, trying to form the right words to scream 'Yes please!' but Luke cut you off with a harsh shush as his thumb came in contact with your puffy clit. It felt like a spell was cast over you, the way you couldn't peel your eyes off of Luke's face--his eyebrows furrowed as he worked you closer and closer to your much-needed release. Your gaze was obvious, and Luke gave you a wicked grin, quickening the pace of his deft fingers until you had to choke back your whines with a bite to your knuckle.
"This is my pussy and anyone else who tries to fuck it will never be as good as me. No one will ever measure up to me, understand me?" Luke growled, curling his fingers just right so they brushed and stroked against that special spot deep within you. You couldn't help your reaction, hips bucking and chasing your orgasm that Luke just kept skirting you away from. 
"Fuck, ff-fuck, Luke-"
"Shhh, calm down. I know, baby, I'm the only one who can fuck you like this, I know. Say it,” he taunted, a Cheshire grin beaming up at your half-lidded eyes. A dumb nod came naturally, but he tutted and pursed his lips in a sense of disappointment. “I said 'Say it'." 
"Y-You're nghhh the o-only w'can fuck m'this way," you whimpered, weepy doe eyes looking up at him for approval. It was wholly pathetic; the tears trailing down your cheeks, the way you could barely even breathe, the way you just had so much love and adoration for the boy in front of you—denying you your release and ruining you. "Please Luke, please fuck me."
"Gods, you're such a good girl, d'y'know that?" Luke groaned, slipping his fingers out of you much to your dismay. He shushed your whiney protests, dry fingers wrapping around your throat, his thumb threatening to press down on your windpipe. “Love how you beg for me.” He was so much stronger than you, so much bigger, so fucking powerful. Two slick-covered fingers made their way up to your mouth, and you eagerly accepted them with a low moan. "That's so good, baby. Keep sucking yourself off my fingers like a little slut, yeah?"
Your pink, wet tongue licked at his two digits like one would a popsicle on a hot summer day. Drool mixed with your juices on his fingers as you gagged around them, low moans threatening to spill over. It was sloppy, your soft moans vibrating his fingers as you made eye contact with your boyfriend, needing his approval. He smiled, releasing your throat so he could knead into the flesh of your thigh, his touch hot and needy. Distracted with the show you were giving Luke, it was too late before you realized just how close his cock was to your pussy—
"Ahh—W-wait, Luke," you cried out as he slammed into you, his dick sliding down to the hilt without warning. Your pussy clenched and spasmed as you tried to adjust to the size of him, hips squirming. He didn't even stop for a second, picking up a fast and dizzying pace, fingers still hooked in your mouth. Gods, he was drilling into you so hard and it just felt so good--
"Shut the fuck up, shut up, I don't care," Luke growled, his voice heavy with need. Despite his cruel words, there was an underlying tenderness in his touch, and you could feel the intensity of him growing more fervent and unhinged with each passing second. His moans filled the room, sounds that you were only ever allowed to hear. Squelches and slaps and the sickest, wettest, most depraved noises intoxicated you--And every time he hit a particularly sensitive spot within you, you couldn't help but let out a choked cry, struggling to remain silent.
"Shut your pretty fucking mouth and be fucking quiet," he demanded, his tone laced with desperation. You gave him a weak nod, but his attention was already drawn away as he changed his angle to have a little more leverage. Moans and whines dripped from Luke's tongue like honey, oozing through the room and straight down to your clenching core. His hips swung and snapped against yours, a steady and rough pace keeping you on the tip of your toes. "I'm trying to be quiet but your pussy just feels so goddamn good,” well that was just a flat-out lie at the sheer volume that he even said it. “Does my cock make you forget all your manners?" You nodded without even thinking, lips parted as you tried to catch your breath. 
"Fuck yeah," he muttered roughly, his breath hot against your cheek. You swore you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. "You want me to go faster?" he huffed, his breathing ragged. "Fuck you harder?" His voice was cracking and straining, his teeth clenching as he tried to hold back his whines and whimpers. 
Without waiting for a response, he increased his pace, grinding against you with a fierce intensity. His hands dug tightly into your hips as he pulled you closer to him, moving your body for you like all you were was some fucktoy for him to use and abuse. Choking softly on his own breaths, he fucked you harder and deeper, his rhythm becoming increasingly frantic—face buried in the crook of your neck. You couldn't help but wrap an arm around him, the other keeping you stable on the counter as he rutted and bucked into you, pulling him close to you. "Luke," you breathed out, "calm, baby."
"No no no, it’s ok, shh," his voice was trembling, fighting back a moan at just hearing you say his name so sweetly. It seemed like it was more of a reminder for him less than you, to try and keep his composure for just a few minutes more. He never wanted this to end. You guided his face to look up at you, his eyes lost behind his sweaty black curls, but his lips didn't fail to connect with yours. Nipping at his bottom lip, you moaned into him--a gesture he reciprocated eagerly. He couldn't even pull away, letting out a muffled, "'m so fuckin' close, baby. Wan' you t'cum on me--fuck, cum on my cock, baby."
“Mmmm so close,” you moaned in agreement, rolling your hips to meet his. “Please touch me, Luke.” You didn’t have to ask twice, his fingers shooting down to the junction where the two of you were connected. A rough pad dragged across your clit—rubbing almost as frantically as his hips slammed into you, your head dropping back in pure ecstasy. You were so fucking close, so close, just a little more…
He didn't scold you for how loud you were getting, he didn't even falter when your thighs began to shake and your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders until the skin broke. And he didn't stop—fucking you right through your orgasm, feeling your walls spasming around his cock, how your legs drew him in closer. Stuttered words of encouragement flooded from his mouth, but most were swallowed up and lost amongst his needy moans and grunts. His pace became erratic, shoving you back hard as one hand braced the wall and the other clawed into your hip. You yelped and shuddered, all of the stimulation crashing down on you at that moment as your pussy twitched, weeping for Luke. 
“Hah-ah, fffuucckk,” Luke whimpered into your ear, hips stuttering for half a second. "'m g'na mmmm...ahh--" He dropped his facade entirely, no longer trying to hide how his voice went 3 octaves whenever he came, eyebrows pinched together to stop himself from just melting away into the floor. The heat of him coated your walls, struggling to fit inside of you with him still taking up most of the tight space. His lips trembled as he tried his best to regain some composure, rutting his hips into you deeply once more--just to feel all of you. You whined in return, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he continued to pump into you slowly.
“Look so fucking pretty right now,” he whispered, slowing his hips to a halt after a long, torturous minute. His lips found yours, muffling your groan as he pulled out of you—the sudden emptiness was always a disappointment. You would keep him inside you all the time if it was up to you. To make matters worse, he freed himself of your iron grip, pulling away from your lips with a heavy panting shaking his chest.
It was like seeing a goddess' true form for the first time--the way your soft tummy rose and fell with each of your breaths, your lips parted and covered in drool and saliva, knees bent, toes curled as you posed there; your abused, cum-filled pretty little pussy spread open like the forbidden fruit that Tantalus could only dream of tasting. You looked like a fucking masterpiece. 
Silent, Luke sank to his knees, lost in the sight of you for only a second before hooking his arms around your thighs--dragging your ass to the end of the vanity. His flat tongue ran from bottom to top, collecting your mixed releases with a certain gentleness. You whimpered as his tongue pressed and swirled around your clit, the sensations of your last orgasm still not fully settled yet. "You are such a good girl," Luke murmured between licks. "You are so pretty, you look so fucking cute, you're adorable." 
His dark eyes looked up to meet yours, locking in as he suckled and lapped at your core. With hesitation, you reached out a hand gingerly, finding a tuft of curls to reside in--earning a purr of approval from your boyfriend. 
"I'm so proud of you," he whispered, suddenly pulling his mouth off of you so he could press a gentle kiss to the junction of your thigh and pelvis. His eyes glanced up to peer at you--seeing your gentle smile made his heart flutter and grow three sizes. A soft trail of kisses made its way to your knee, his arms still supporting you, his nose nuzzling against the soft and damp skin. "You did so good today, I'm so fucking proud of you, baby."
"I know, Luke, I know. I'm proud of you too."
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tacticaldiary · 9 months
Note
Reader joining 141 for a mission and Simon is not having it and is pissed at price for calling them and all of the other guys are confused about why ghost is so upset till they find out reader is his wife after the mission
Maybe reader got hurt and ghost goes off on price
The Price Of A Secret
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
"People get injured on the job, Ghost." Gaz tries to defuse the situation. "She's alive-"
"This is different." He grits out.
"And why's that?"
"Because that's my wife!" He hisses, slamming his fist onto the table. It strikes them harder than if he were to have yelled it at them.
A/N: It's 2:45am and I have no energy to proofread caution advised-
Masterlist
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The moment the picture of the intelligence officer joining them flashes on the screen, Ghost puts his foot down.
"She's not coming."
Everyone in the room pauses, Price staring at Ghost mid sentence. It's the usual 141, and then it's her. Sitting there with a mildly frustrated look, refusing to look at him because she should have known he'd try to pull some shit like this.
"Why not?" Price folds his arm, narrowing his eyes. "Is there an issue, Lieutenant?"
She was supposed to work from the inside, drawing out data and cracking through defences that they then passed on to people like the 141. An integral part of the process of running the whole task force, but not once was she involved in hands-on field work.
It's not that she's incompetent. No, not at all. Ghost would have his head bit off if he even remotely implied that because it simply isn't true. She got the top scores in almost every part of her training exercises, and yet she chose the intelligence part of the military to serve in. His wife was as competent as they got.
His wife.
"This is a covert operation, the fewer people the better." That's what he goes with. Not because his heart picks up at the thought of her being anywhere near what they deal with every day.
"I won't have the range I need to retrieve the data from their servers if I'm not close to them." She speaks up, and their eyes meet from across the room.
His determined, hers resolute.
Sometimes he really hated that she was so fucking stubborn. It had been the same stubbornness that cracked down the iron grip he'd had on the walls in his mind and around his heart, but if that stubbornness was what got her killed Simon would give up this joy in a heartbeat.
He'd do it for her if it meant she kept on living.
"This isn't up for discussion, Ghost." Price states, "She's part of this operation on my authority."
"Price-"
"End of discussion. You settle whatever you have going on outside this room." And fuck, he can't refute a direct order like that, can he?
Ghost sees her release a long exhale, and he knows he won't share such a relief until this damn operation was over and done with.
                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Her body is so limp it scares the ever-loving shit out of him.
Ghost grips her so tight it's as if he himself is the only thing tethering her soul to her body, boots thumping hard against the muddy ground as they retreat back to their extraction point, data successfully retrieved.
Successfully, not smoothly.
The plan was simple. They'd flank the building while she camped out near the edge of the woods, retrieving the intel they needed. A couple of fuckers slipped out of the building and went straight for her.
Ghost's stomach turns when he remembers how he found the scene. She wasn't answering through her comms, but he knew he wasn't able to leave his position until the building was secure.
Waiting felt like an eternity, he could feel Soap send troubled glances in his direction at the way Ghost was unusually silent and more brutal than.
When the building was finally secure, they'd gone to reunite with her position and found three men dead, bloody seeping into the ground in a crimson mess. The last one standing hovered over her unconscious form, over his wife with a knife raised ready to slit her thought.
The only thought Ghost had as he ripped the man away with his hands was that he was going to take the one good thing in his life away, and he would not let that happen. Not her. Not like this.
"Bleeding wound to the head, unconscious but still breathing!" Gaz called out while Ghost shoved the man's own knife into his throat. Tossing the gurgling body aside like a ragdoll, he's immediately by her side, assessing before carefully lifting her up in his arms.
It's the most emotion Ghost has ever expressed in front of the others, but he couldn't give a fuck about the looks or the questions right now. Her heartbeat against him settled him the slightest bit with the reassurance that she was alive.
Angry does not begin to describe what itches under Ghost's skin as they scramble into their exfil airship.
"Medic!" He barks the second they lift off. Setting her down, he brushes the bloody strands of her hair away from her face.
Despite the urge to stay by her side, the medic gingerly requests for him to take a step back so he could work. Ghost obliges but his eyes never leave her face.
He's painfully aware of his wedding ring pressing against his chest, strung onto a chain long enough to be tucked under his uniform. A matching one to her own.
Nobody speaks.
Perhaps they recognise the anger washing off of Ghost in waves, because if they'd just bloody listened to him, she wouldn't be laying there with a head wound.
The atmosphere is heavy and sombre. Even Soap keeps his mouth shut, too confused by the outward, uncharacteristic way Ghost was acting to make fun of it.
It's only when the medic announces she's stable that the suffocating knot in Ghost's chest loosens. There's audible relief from everyone in the place.
"Bloody hell." Price breathes, and something in Ghost snaps.
"I told you to dismiss her from the op." He says coldly, turning to the man.
"We got what we needed, son." He sighs, deep and tired, and part of Ghost understands that this was their life. But he's too worked up to care.
"At a fucking cost."
"People get injured on the job, Ghost." Gaz tries to defuse the situation. "She's alive, that's all that matters. Nothing permanent, yeah?" He glances at the medic, who confirms with a nod before slipping away.
"This is different." Ghost grits out.
"Why's that?"
"Because that's my wife!" He hisses, slamming his fist onto the metallic walls. It strikes them harder than if he were to have yelled it at them.
How long had it taken for Ghost-...no, for Simon to let someone crack open his defences until he was coaxed out and allowed himself to love again? Four years they've been married, and four years he's kept it a secret.
It's not that he doesn't trust his team. He trusts them with his life, would lay his own down for Johnny, Gaz, and Price any day.
But this? This was bigger than him, she was the most precious thing that had ever happened to him, and the safest way to preserve that was the keep it on a need-to-know basis.
She'd agreed with him, of course. In that soft, patient way she always has with him. She'd seen the paranoia in him, recognised that he needed this one thing for himself, and she'd been more than happy to oblige.
What was outside validation about her relationship worth when she got to crawl into his arms at the end of the day? Be granted the pleasure that comes with being loved by someone as protective, intelligent, and sharp as Simon Riley? She adores all of him, even the jagged pieces that cut into her from time to time, because he's always there to take care of her afterwards.
"She's my wife." He repeats quieter, sitting back down. Exhaustion lines the slope of his shoulder's dark circles well present under his mask.
"You're married." Soap is the first to speak, incredulously. "You? Ghost? You're married?" His eyes flicker down to Ghost's left hand, and then to Gaz and Price who look equally as surprised. "I mean, congratulations?" He trails off, knowing it's not really the situation to celebrate.
"Thanks." A tired, small voice has everyone's attention back onto the figure on the bed. Ghost is on his feet in moments, by her bedside. "It'll be five years in...what, a month?" She cracks an eye open, giving Simon a tired, smile.
"Two months." He corrects with a mutter, and Johnny looks like he might just collapse. "Sitrep?"
"We're not on the field anymore." She groans, pushing herself to sit up. Ghost's hands fly to her immediately, helping her sit up. At his blank, insistent stare, she relents with a deep sigh. "My head's killing me but other than that just a few scrapes and bruises." Her hand travels down to grab his at her shoulder, squeezing briefly.
"I'm alright." Her voice turns into something soft and reassuring, and it's only then that a quiet, shuddering breath comes out of Simon's lungs. "I think I'll sit to working from the inside though." She jokes weakly. "Leave the dirtier work to you brutes."
It lightens the mood as intended, eliciting a snort from Gaz. "Yes, ma'am."
He'd make sure she got checked out properly when they landed, but for now he takes his place sitting beside her. The others fall into a hushed conversation after a while, but he makes no move to join them.
A warm hand intertwines with his, hidden beneath the bulk of their combined gear.
"I'm alright, Simon." She mumbles, just loud enough for him to hear.
Simon squeezes her hand in response. "Fucking hell, love." He breathes.
And it's enough to convey everything he's thinking. Humming, she tips her head against his shoulder and lets her eyes slip shut. The warmth of his body, even through the tang of copper is enough of a familiar comfort to drain the tension from her body.
She's fast asleep against his shoulder a minute later, and the devil himself couldn't make Simon move lest he wake her now.
He wasn't a publicly affectionate person by any means...but he trusted his team enough for this right now.
Letting his own head press against the metal wall behind them, his eyes shift to meet Price's. A softer, knowing look from the Captain is all he needs to hook his chin over her head and turn his attention outside the small window.
And if he counts her breathing while she sleeps for his own peace of mind? Well, that's no one's business but his.
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(10/09/2023)
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mondaymelon · 5 months
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first time in this account lol Idk if you're taking requests but I saw that post some minutes ago and... Idk, wanted to request something lol, if you didn't do it yet! What about headcanons with a reader who doesn't show physical attention until some years of knowing them? Like, they know each other for about 5 years and just then the reader decides to do some small act of physical affection... I wanted the headcanons to be with Childe, Arlecchino, Wanderer and Furina! If you can <3
₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐅 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔… | childe, wanderer, arlecchino, furina x gn!reader
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( childe's part might be a little ooc. havent done that part of the archon quest yet cries. also mwah arlecchino we love her in this household !! )
[ You were always someone who wasn’t fond of physical attention. Fleeting touches and kisses to the cheeks were never your forte, yet what should happen if the lover you’ve had for years is suddenly on the receiving end of such affections? ]
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"physical affection... ah- it's okay if you can't show that to me, there's plenty of other ways to tell that you love me!"
CHILDE was the one to say those words to you, and the held the most certain truth. You were his lover, and a hug or two couldn't sway the fact! While the harbinger is quite the puppy and often yearns for your warmth, he'll respect your boundaries and allow you whatever. A lover like Childe places your happiness as a priority over his, wanting more to see your eyes sparkle than his own.
"Love, you wouldn't believe what happened in the courthouse today." You glance up from your spot where you're curled up on the couch, snuggled into a fluffy blanket and holding a warm drink in your hands, one of Inazuma's light novels sitting on the armrest. You hear the door to the two of you's home shut and lock, and listen to... Childe's footsteps. How strange, is he stumbling?
Glancing up, you internally gape at the cuts on his body, your eyes instantly drawn at the red splattered across his features. "'Taglia, what hap-"
He lets out a dry chuckle, grinning sheepishly as he rids his shoes at the door. "No worries, the blood isn't mine. Most of it, at least. I managed to get out of there in time, so all's well, yeah?"
As if that'd provide you any comfort. You narrow your eyes, glaring at him unyieldingly, until Childe has no choice but to force out another tasteless chuckle. "Come on now, I'm home, so let's do something fun instead of just being mad at me, 'kay?"
"Tartaglia."
The man flinches, his deep ocean eyes rounding. When you call him that and not his nickname, he knew that he had landed himself in deep shit. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." He says that, but the sentence rounds up in a change of his tone, sounding almost suspiciously like a question. "It won't happen aga-"
The world itself seems to stop.
Your head is buried into his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. Archons, can you hear how fast his heart is beating? You've made him into a complete and utter mess. He's blushing, his ears practically on fire, and any thoughts once in his brain have been seared away in single second. It takes him to the count of three to remember how to breathe once more, his chest erratically heaving up and down as his shaking arms wrap around you hesitantly, wondering if it'd be okay to do so.
"...Love?"
"Mhm?"
"I- I thought you-"
"If it's with you, I'm okay."
Oh, how those words tug at his heart. You look so perfect in his arms - yes, you looked simply perfect all the time, he'd admit in a split-second. The messy nest of hair atop your head when you woke up in the early mornings, the dark bags under your eyes when you didn't sleep until late at night, your smile, your laugh, even your scowl. It silenced any effort to not fall in love with you.
A smile tugs at his lips. A bright one, a warm one, if that was even possible. Perhaps his eyes are shining with tears, or perhaps it was merely a trick of light, but he holds you all the closer, not wanting to let you go.
"Love, I... Archons, I don't think I'd be able to love anyone but you." ₊˚ෆ
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"..great. i don't want your filthy hands on me anyways, so there shouldn't be a problem, hm?"
WANDERER's words were just that, would it kill him to be a little nicer? It didn't matter... you knew your lover well, or at least well enough to tell that what he said wasn't the complete truth.
Sure, you had seen him shrug off and make expressions of disgust directed towards particularly touchy people that he'd become somewhat acquainted with. And you most certainly had witnessed his frustrated outbursts and rants when he returned home to your shared abode, whining and grumbling about any trivial error someone had made - that is, brushing fingers with him while passing him papers. Something that couldn't exactly be avoided, yet he had glared at the wall for a good amount all the same.
Ah, but then there were moments when he thought you weren't looking, and that was when his eyes would drink you in. Grazing over your eyes, to your lips, then to your hands, where'd they linger on your fingers for perhaps longer than they should.
And you'd catch the times where you were inclined to say something flirtatious - words that were never all that flirtatious in the first place, Wanderer just happened to be unusually susceptible. Chin resting on your hand, eyes staring into his, you'd say something about how pretty he was, and then he'd just about go into neurogenic shock, likely not speaking to you the rest of the day, the tips of his ears, if one squinted to a certain extent, pink.
"Love." You glance up at him, a slight pout fixed on your lips. He'd been immersed in minor tasks, and those pesky things were what stole his attention away from you. An ironic twist of fate, as you were usually the one to be drowning in work, and he'd be the one practically begging for affection.
He hums, yet doesn't even bother to look at you.
"Do you want to go for a walk?"
"No."
"Go get something to eat?"
"No."
"Visit the... House of Daena?"
"No."
"Shall we feed the finches?"
A slight pause. "...No."
"Then... let's hold hands?"
He froze at your words, and it seemed that the male lost the function of inhaling, for he sat there unmoving for what seemed like hours, his expression petrified in its form of his large eyes, raised eyebrows, and mouth slightly ajar.
"...Excuse me?" It seemed that he doubted his own ears, for he set his work aside and fixed his focus upon you, fingers trembling just the slightest.
"Hmph, have you suddenly forgotten how to think?" You frowned, yet your eyes curved into crescents all the same, and Wanderer felt his breath hitch at how ethereal you were. The sly fox you were, you took his moment of shock, settling by his side and intertwining your fingers with his. "Like this, is it not?" You were smiling now, and for the first time you glimpsed the red on his ears, but now on his face too, a rosy red descending upon his cheeks.
"What's..." Perhaps you were right. His vocabulary had suddenly dwindled, and now he had nothing but questions - that, and the growing warmth in his chest. "What do you think you're doing right now?"
Whatever attempt he had to sound "mean" had failed. You knew him too well for that. "Holding hands, what else? Your hands are cold you know-" And at that he flinched. "But it feels nice."
D...Did it really?
"You, no... love, let's stay like this. You're... warm." ₊˚ෆ
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"when you sought me, i thought it'd be a serious matter. there's no trouble in it, truly, so there's no need to look so dejected."
ARLECCHINO hadn't even batted an eye. Was there a reason to? Yes, this certainly crossed off any thought of romantic couple things like kissing and hand holding, but it wasn't like she'd gasp dramatically and fall to the ground, blaming you for setting boundaries-
As if she'd ever. Your imagination was running wild today, perhaps it was the lack of sleep finally catching up to you? It was a stark contrast compared to Arlecchino, who went days without rest, shuffling through paper after paper on her desk and constantly relaying messages to her subordinates. She was a hard worker - a trait most easily overlooked, but it was a point of adoration for you. A point among many. Arlecchino was an easy person to love, despite the bristling thorns she'd show at first glance.
"Darling, a cup of tea, please?" Her gaze flicked up from her work to you, a thin smile decorating her lips. It was more a less a habit the two of you established - that is, pouring her tea. Her favorite cup was the one you had gifted her when you first started your relationship, shaded in a dark hue and embellished with roses, their blooms, petals, and thorny branches spreading across the expanse of porcelain. You placed said cup on her desk with a breath of satisfaction, tilting you head in questioning at the unusual amount of papers on her desk.
"Arle, did something happen?"
She merely chuckled to herself, her eyes shining with delight. "Ah, why don't you wager a guess?" You were her "subordinate" of sorts, although your true association was far more intimate. You knew of her plans with Fontaine, and helped carry them out. She revered your loyalty, but your warmth far more.
"...Has the hydro gnosis been secured?"
She snapped her fingers in one swift motion, her small smile widening into a true one that played across her ruby lips. "Correct, I'd expect nothing less of someone as capable as my lover."
"Then, Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet..."
"They've done well." It'd be hard to forsake the note of pride in her voice. Setting down the sheets in her gloved hands, she stood from her seat slowly, letting her eyes scan over your body. "You've asked your question, now shall I ask mine? Darling, I did quite well myself, did I not?"
Her expectant gaze read one thing, but instead of the usual quality time spending the two of you'd share, this time, you had rather differing plans. Smiling, you walked up to her, not letting the way her eyes sparkled just the slightest escape your sight. Promptly, sneakily, you flung yourself upon her, beaming as your hands found refuge winding about her torso, nearly instantly trapping her into your death hug. "You did, Arle~!"
"..." At her silence, you glanced up, only to be met with a sight that drew blush upon your own cheeks. Her usually composed, mystery-shroud features were now conflicted with crossing emotions... of what, however, was rather indecipherable. Arlecchino was a person of many masks, yet now it seemed that her "mask" displayed but one thing - love.
"Darling, I... you look perfect in my arms, so shall we stay like this a moment longer?" ₊˚ෆ
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"is that so? a trivial matter, is it by law that i must hold you in my arms in order to prove my love for you?"
FURINA's multicolored irises and teardrop pupils twinkled, their shine dancing on the moonlit breeze. A hand daintily held a teacup, its fragrant contents swirling about the porcelain basin. Her laugh accompanied the cool evening wind, and she fluttered her eyes shut in a smile that brightened her expression. "Come now, why so shocked? Wouldn't this be expected from someone as benevolent as I?"
It was a scene that would remain forever painted in your mind, like a beautiful mural that one's eyes could not possibly forsake. The way her mouth tugged upwards and the manner in which her eyes curv-
"Hey, are you even listening to me right now?" A familiar voice tugged you out of your reminiscence of the confrontation months prior. Furina displayed a childish frown on her lips, her partly furrowed eyes sharpening her gaze into a rather particular one.
Oh, lost in thought once more. You let out a soft sigh, nodding sheepishly. "Yes, love, I am.."
"Mhm..." Your words left a no, you clearly aren't!" Furina sat up, her intensifying discontentment apparent on her features. "I said I got you access to front ticket seats to the hottest new court case! You know, the one involving the robbery... the one that's quite literally got the entire Steambird in a chokehold? Yet, you're not excited in the slightest!?" She sounded offended, and she likely was, for her cheeks were flushed the slightest in rash frustration and her narrowed eyes creased at their corners. "Appreciate my efforts, why don't you?"
"Appreciate" indeed.
Ah, but was a sudden, tight embrace overshooting it? For she tensed in your arms, her frame absolutely suspended in your hold, her slack jaw giving the slightest tremor. "Mon amour, just w-what are you-?"
"Come now, Furina, am I not permitted to hug my own lover now?" The jesting in your voice faded as the sarcastic grin on your face formed a smaller, more genuine one. "I'm... ah, I'm okay, if it's with you. I'll be okay."
She paused at your words, contemplation of them flashing in her gaze, and let out a gratified exhale. "Then..." she nearly melted in your embrace, leaning her head into your arms compliantly.
"Don't you dare think I've forgotten about your previous transgression, but... ah, it can be forgiven, can't it, mon amour?" ₊˚ෆ
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(a/n) hc hc hc hc furina calls youfrench petnames because french oui oui baguette.. AHEM my sincerest apologies to any french or french speakers...
REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! please consider following me as i amm soosososoo close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be crazy if i could reach it before christmas!!!
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader
-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶
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divineecelestial · 1 year
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Pretty Girl — Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
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Summary — Eddie liked you. Really liked you. You hated him. Really hated him. He was a bully and mean, and you were too damn pretty for your own good. You're partnered together for a project and things are changing between you both.
Word Count — 1.4k
Warnings — somewhat bully!eddie (not really, but it's sort of there) perv!eddie, enemies to lovers (eventually) sub!eddie, virgin!eddie (not explicitly stated here, but eventually will be in the series) somewhat dom!reader. Public situations. Kind of dry humping? Both Eddie and Reader are above the age of 18.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
You flipped a page from the book you were required to read for the project, eyebrows pinched together with concentration and your bottom lip between your teeth. Your eyes scanned over the paragraphs, occasionally widening and narrowing with whatever was happening on that particular page. He could see you were memorizing each message hidden beneath the passages, marking your notebook with a glitter pink pen. There wasn’t any possible way he was going to finish his portion of the project when he could smell the sweetness of your skin. His own notebook was forgotten, merely three sentences scribbled on the page before he was distracted by you. 
The smoothness of your thighs was peeking beneath the floral fabric of your dress, crossed and occasionally bouncing. When you weren’t writing your thoughts and answers, you brought the tip of your pen between your teeth, nibbling and lightly licking the plastic. He could feel the breath inside his lungs pulled out and his heart was moments from thumping through his chest and clothes. And, of course, his jeans tightened uncomfortably.
Your eyes slowly moved from the crinkled and yellow-stained pages of the book onto him. His fiery gaze remained etched on you as if he were engraving the spectacle before him within the confines of his mind. Lowering your book, you raised an eyebrow, inquisitive. He didn’t respond to the gesture. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. 
The dynamic between the both of you was complicated. Well, for you it was. For him, there wasn’t anything that could’ve been more simple. Since he was a kid, so for pretty much as long as he could remember, you were always there. You grew up with him. And you hated him. He pulled on the ribbons of your hair, stole your homework answers, and constantly teased you whenever he could. It didn’t matter what you did, he was always there with some snarky remarks. And he liked you. 
That’s how it started anyway.
Because when high school came, and the wave of teenage hormones as well, he didn’t just like you anymore. He was obsessed with you. He followed you around, stole your pom-poms, ruined your hair that you had spent forever doing, pulled your hair when he sat behind you and said every dirty thing that went through his head. He didn’t care if you were mean to him and called him names. Truth be told, he might’ve liked that more than he thought was possible. But you could’ve slapped and kicked him and he wouldn’t do a single thing other than thank you for touching him. He was whipped.
However, for you, things were complicated. That was an understatement. For as long as you could remember, you didn’t like him. Disliking him was easy and simple. You had been doing that for years. But things were changing and you couldn’t explain why. Well, that wasn’t the truth. You did know why. 
Two weeks ago, and you knew this because you couldn’t think of anything else other than that particular night. Your car wasn’t working and you weren’t even going to pretend to understand what was underneath the hood. The night was brimming with darkness and pouring rain and you were completely alone. You trudged to the nearest payphone, shivering beneath your sodden clothes, and called everyone you could think of. Not a single person answered. That was until you called the number Wayne had provided months ago when he suggested he could help with whatever car troubles you were having and not overcharge you. You just didn’t expect Eddie to answer. 
He was kind. The sickening kind of sweet you would find sprawled across romance novels. He called you the nicknames he had been calling you since you could remember, but it was different. He looked at you differently. Talked to you differently. Touched you differently. 
And now you were stuck with him as his partner. 
You were going to roll your eyes and resume with your book and disregard his existence as much as you could when you noticed it. There was absolutely no way of not noticing it. You glanced around, wondering if there was someone within the shadows of the empty library watching and observing. “Are you serious?” You sneered barely above a whisper. His amused eyes merely traveled to his hardening bulge. “Stop that.” 
“I can’t help it.” His voice was breathless, wisp-like. “You’re so pretty.” Your jaw clenched and your glare intensified. He brought his adorned hand onto his bulge and palmed himself. The movements were slow and deliberate, and because you were near the back of the library, there wasn’t anyone around to notice him. “If you keep looking at me like that, I can probably finish like this.” 
You were across from him, the only thing separating you from him was a small round table, and you were debating if you should kick the table at him. His eyes traveled across your body, not bothering to conceal his heavy gaze, and they stopped right where your skirt stopped. When you clenched her thighs together, he could barely see the baby-pink fabric of your underwear. His movements sputtered as he thought of crawling on the floor to you, worshiping you as he dreamed of doing. He groaned as his eyes closed, thinking of staining his lips with your arousal and kissing you until you couldn’t think of anything other than the taste of yourself mixed with him. “Yeah, I can definitely finish like this.”
Your nose scrunched as you watched his movements intently. “You’re a pervert.” Your voice, however, didn’t match your words. Because you couldn’t even understand the wetness dampening your underwear. You didn’t understand why you liked knowing you were the reason for his undoing and for his sick actions. You liked knowing he thought you were so pretty that he couldn’t wait until he got home. But you obviously couldn’t tell him that because you weren’t supposed to like any of that. You were supposed to hate him.
Yeah, things were complicated now.
You leaned closer, intentionally displaying a view of your breasts. “If you’re going to make yourself come, do it fast. We have a deadline.” Those words weren’t what he was expecting. You were tolerating him lately, even occasionally smiling before flipping him off. You were speaking to him without a bratty attitude and sitting next to him in class. He was slowly making progress. This wasn’t progress. This was hurdling over the finish line.
His gaze was ripped away from your breasts when you leaned back against your cushioned chair and he watched with sick enjoyment as you squeezed your thighs together. There was no way you were liking this. “Hurry. I don’t have all day.” Oh, God, you were really going to sit there and look pretty for him so he could come in his pants. You were letting him use you for his perversions. 
He nodded frantically, applying more pressure on his leaking cock. There was a stain soaking through his jeans and his hips were rutting against his hand, desperate for a wetness that couldn’t compare to his hand. Returning back to your book, you slowly spread your thighs open, allowing him a clear and picturesque view of your damp underwear. He couldn’t contain the pathetic whimper escaping his blushing lips. “You’re so pretty. So pretty. My pretty girl.”
He was mumbling, pussy-drunk from only the view of your clothed one. “Come on, let me see those pretty eyes.” Pretty, pretty, pretty. “Look at me when I come for you. Y-Yeah, just like that. That’s so good.” You teasingly looked away from your book and looked at him and you would’ve thought you handed a starving man a full-course meal from the way he crumbled beneath your gaze. “Fuck, you can’t be real.”
So, so, so pretty.
And then you smiled.
He moaned pathetically loud and you watched with twisted enjoyment as the stain on his crotch spread. Watching a man who’s tormented you for so long become undone simply from your gaze was empowering. Addicting even. He was breathless, shaking, and beads of sweat dampened his flushed skin. Bringing your leg back down and closing your book, you gathered your supplies and belongings and stood from the chair. You looked down at the embarrassingly large patch of cum seeping through his clothes and smiled. “I’ve gotta go. Same time tomorrow?”
Yeah, things were definitely different now.
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maculategiraffe · 1 year
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have been helping a bit to look after a little girl who is almost three, about six months older than my nephew, but who unfortunately hasn't been looked after as well as my nephew has.
had her in the kind of baby swing that you buckle a baby into, and she was being very very quiet and meditative. not smiling or engaging with me at all as I chatted away at her, or even looking at me. which is fine of course
but after awhile I said "are you all done swinging?" and she didn't answer or look at me. I said "are you still having fun in the swing?" and she didn't answer. I said, "do you want to keep swinging?" and she didn't answer. I said "are you hungry? ready for a snack?" and she didn't answer
I knelt down in front of her and said "let's unbuckle you and we can go get a snack, ok?" and she just stared at me. but when I reached for the buckles she whimpered and sobbed and tried to push my hands away from them
so of course I was like "oh! you do want to keep swinging!" and she didn't answer, but when I pulled the swing back to get her swinging again she smiled really widely
and it got me thinking about how sometimes, especially if it doesn't seem like anybody ever listens to you, or cares what you think or feel, it's hard to think of language-- including the language of gesture-- as a tool to communicate. because even when she started to cry and pushed at my hands it wasn't really like she was trying to tell me something, or even ask for something. she can talk, I've heard her say a three word sentence, and her speech and articulation are probably better on a purely technical level than my nephew's. but why should she? grown-ups do whatever they want. she didn't communicate her wishes to me, not because she wasn't able, because why bother? she cried because she was sad and frustrated, not because she thought I wanted to know what she wanted. she smiled because she was happy, not because she wanted me to know she was happy.
and I get it, you know? sometimes you have a breakdown because it's easier to get to the point when things are so bad or upsetting that you just have to cry out in protest, in organic despair that just overcomes you, because it's too hard / it seems too hopeless to choose to ask for something before it gets to that point. even if people are actively asking how they can help. because how do you know they mean it? what if you choose the wrong answer? better not to imagine you get to choose.
wish she'd yell "no snack!!!! more swing!!!" like my nephew. who knows I'm listening
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izurou · 1 year
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“kats, you’re worse than i thought.”
this is the third weekend in a row that katsuki has gotten stuck with an overnight patrol—a gruelling twelve hours that starts friday evening at seven, and ends the following morning, at seven.
but, it’s just past five am—the sun is desperately trying to rise somewhere off in the distance, and you’re sitting beside your boyfriend, who is face down in bed—a little out of it, and in a lot of pain.
“how bad?” he mumbles, referring to his back—the spot that clearly took the brunt of whatever, or whoever it was that cut his night short.
you don’t ask for details. it doesn’t matter how he got here, just that he is here—that he would come back home after presumably being relieved of his duties by another hero from the agency, choosing to skip proper medical care altogether.
he’s earned himself a scolding for that little stunt, but it’ll have to wait. for now, your job is simple—do what you can to take his mind off of the ache pulsing up his spine.
“like, borderline slut, i would say.”
do whatever you can, to take his mind off of it.
“huh?” he cranes his neck to look at you, wincing as he moves, and through the dull orange hue of the candle sitting on your bedside table, you see his brows furrow, and his nose scrunch up.
he hit his head too hard, he must’ve.
“i’m serious, baby. you have one, two, three,” you start gently placing your finger over various spots on his back—stifling a laugh when you catch him staring at you, dumbfounded. “nine, ten, eleven.”
he tries to peer over his shoulder, but is quickly humbled by the persistent throb radiating from just above the waistband of his boxers.
“fuck,” he mutters, shoving his face back into his pillow with a groan. carefully, you run your fingers through his hair, and he turns his head to the side—peering up at you through tired eyes. “eleven?”
“eleven! and that’s just on your back,” you smile, and he knows you a little too well—he recognizes the glint of mischief behind your eyes too easily.
“the hell are you talking about?” he asks.
“look, you have one,” you pause and place your finger on his forearm, right next to a pigmented little circle—a beauty mark. “here, too.”
his gaze shifts back and forth between you and where you’re pointing, but he just can’t seem to connect his own dots.
“they’re places where your lover used to kiss you most often,” you explain as you lay down beside him. “you know, in all your past lives.”
oh, and because he has eleven on his back, he’s teetering on the edge of promiscuity? that has to be one of the single most ridiculous things he’s ever heard—and he spent three years at ua with kirishima and kaminari. but, it’s coming from you—so he finds it endearing all the same.
what a sweet way of seeing things, how very you.
“you made that up,” he mumbles, eyes fluttering shut momentarily as sleep threatens to swallow him whole.
“did not,” you insist, “i mean, look at izuku.”
katsuki simply snorts in response before shuffling around—bearing the intense pain as he rolls onto his back and motions for you to snuggle into him, because it’d hurt more to not have you close.
at least, that’s what he’d say if he was a romantic—someone who’s beauty mark numbers are in the single digits.
“how many lovers do you think he’s had?” you hum, running a hand across katsuki’s chest in a soothing motion.
“none.”
“oh? two hundred you say?”
he sighs this time, muttering a shaddup under his breath as he allows his eyes to close once more. he’d like to leave it at that and drift off into dream world, but you follow up with a sentence that makes his heart flutter.
“don’t worry kats, none of them were me,” you laugh, like music to his ears—his favourite song. he can’t help the boyish grin that creeps onto his lips, and he thanks his lucky stars that you aren’t looking.
though your words make him wonder, if you were ever his in a past life—maybe you’ve always been his. yeah, he likes the sound of that, even if it is the single most ridiculous thought he’s ever had—it’s you, so he’ll think of it forever.
“good,” he says—feeling your weight shift a little, and when he opens his eyes, you’re there.
you’re close, inches away from his face, and you get even closer—pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, one that seemingly numbs him from the inside out, taking away his pain for that brief moment.
and as you both settle back down—snug in each other’s arms, he thinks he can finally fall victim to his drowsiness.
but you have one last burning question.
“baby, do i have permission to count izuku’s?”
“not even in your next fuckin’ life.”
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sytoran · 7 months
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𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟖 — 𝐓𝐈𝐓-𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆
kinktober day 008 | milf!natasha x beefy!amab!reader
your wife thinks you've been acting a little off lately. she tries possible solutions to lighten your mood, but eventually it comes down to the 'hard' truth that you wanna fuck her tits.
cont. reader has a cock, teasing, possessiveness, praise word count. 951
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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"Okay, that's enough."
Natasha states firmly, folding her arms as she looks you over. Despite being married for nearly three years and having two kids, Natasha's finding it hard to understand you now.
You've been off the whole day, constantly looking disappointed and guilty. There's this nagging feeling in the back of Natasha's mind that tries to coerce her into assuming the worse, but she knows better than to let those voices take over her.
"It's nothing," you try to mumble, shying away from your wife's insistent gaze. Your eyes are anywhere but Natasha, flickering, and she swears you're flustered.
It's strange. For someone usually so headstrong and confident, it's definitely bizarre to see you acting like this.
"Tell me what's wrong baby, please," Natasha tries again, trying the gentler approach, pressing a hand on the side of your face, trying to make you turn your head to face her.
It only seems to make things worse, you desperately trying to back away and Natasha trying to move closer.
Just by your luck, the back of your leg knocks into the sofa in the midst of your escape, and you stumble. Natasha catches your wrist, attempting to suspend you and prevent the fall, but you end up pulling her down with you anyway.
That's how you end up laying on the sofa with your wife on top of you, her knee unintentionally pressing into the prominent bulge between your legs, now brought into the limelight.
There's silence for a moment, and you want to crawl into a hole and die, but your wife only lets an amused smirk grow on her face.
She lets a hand trail over the tent in your pants, lightly, and you shudder, letting out a hollow exhale.
"Why were you… embarrassed to tell me?" Natasha asks, cautiously, eyeing the ever-rising boner in your pants. She can’t help the warmth slowly rising between her legs.
You look away ashamedly, before woefully admitting your remorse. "Well, I thought you didn't want to like, have sex anymore. I mean, we've had two kids, and you're always busy, and you- I mean, you never seem to like, initiate it, or whatever. Not like we used to.” your mumbling nearly goes unheard, but Natasha’s keen ears prick up every word.
She tilts her head in a concerned fashion. “Baby, we have children in the house! I can’t just jump your bones every hour of the day like we used to when we were in college.”
"Yeah, I know. This was stupid,” you sigh, more so disappointed in yourself than anything. You lift yourself up from the sofa. “I'm sorry for worrying you, baby. You don't have to-"
Before you can even finish your sentence, Natasha’s pulled off your pants in record timing, hands encircling your thick, throbbing cock. All the air is knocked out of you, as you’re pushed back onto the sofa, and you’re quite sure your heart stops beating for a few moments.
“Nat? What are you- what are you doing?” you question lowly, biting back a gasp when your wife begins to rub her hands up and down your shaft through your boxers.
“Just because I haven’t said it, doesn’t mean I don’t want you inside me, dorogoya.” Natasha grunts, tugging off her own sleeping shorts. “the kids are sleeping upstairs, so everything’ll be fine if we’re quiet. anything you want in particular?” she asks, casually.
Noting the sudden change in the glint of your eye, Natasha smirks, knowing she had a definite answer.
“Shit. I- uh, I’ve kinda had three wet dreams about fucking your tits.” you confess, looking up hopefully into your wife’s viridescent eyes.
Her eyebrows raise. You chuckle awkwardly. Your cock, is still embarrassingly hard.
Before you know it, your wildest dreams have been fulfilled. Natasha is now pinned down under you, chest now exposed to the cool night air. your cock is stuffed in the valley between her tits.
You’re just so obsessed with them, because they’re hers. Soft mounds, so easy for you to wrap your bigger hands around and press kisses all over. As much as you love the little rascals that are you and Natasha’s children, you can’t help but miss the days when you could casually lift up her shirt and absent-mindedly play with your wife's breasts like stressballs.
But now, in the heat of the moment, with Natasha holding her tits and rubbing them up and down your long cock, you can’t quite formulate any coherent thoughts.
You pin down your wife’s sides after a few more minutes of rubbing. “You’re so good for me, sweetheart,” you groan out, beginning to thrust between her tits, slow and deep.
The edge of your cock peeks out at the top of her mounds with each thrust, and it takes everything in Natasha not to moan out loud. She didn’t think she’d be so turned on by this, by your hazy eyes lost in lust, staring at your cock disappearing between her tits.
You get rougher, unknowingly, hypnotised by the way Natasha’s tits shake. Your pre-cum gets smeared all over her tits, and you’re just about to lose it completely.
When Natasha presses a kiss onto the head of your cock, when it emerges through her breasts one last time, you come undone with a long groan, lost in hallucinogenic pleasure.
Your seed goes all over your wife’s ample assets: her pretty tits, her mouth and her face. Natasha smiles breathlessly, looking at you with glittering eyes. She’s so innocently licking off all the cum at the tip of your cock.
“Sorry for acting like a prick, Nat. I love you.”
“Mhm, I’ll forgive you if you do that more often.”
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kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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astonmartinii · 8 months
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head in the clouds | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x fem flight attendant!reader
there's no one more attractive than the stranger at the same gate as you at the airport and sometimes that stranger works on your best friend's private jet.
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 3,105 others
yourusername: violently hungover, don't tell my boss x
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user1: i need to be her
maxverstappen1: your boss follows you on instagram genius
yourusername: oh yeah lol but i'm still alive and i was still on time
maxverstappen1: you took a nap on the flight?
yourusername: it was about ten billion hours long so spare me the lecture
maxverstappen1: you're so lucky we're friends otherwise i'd fire your ass
yourusername: you love me too much to do that maxy (and i know way too much about you) x
user2: how did you get this job?
yourusername: nepotism babes x
danielricciardo: i think you masked it pretty well for the first three hours
yourusername: THANK YOU
danielricciardo: but i did hear you throw up around hour four
yourusername: nothing like a tactical chunder on your childhood friend's private jet
landonorris: i for one couldn't tell you were hungover
yourusername: well look who's my new favourite, you should fly with max more often
danielricciardo: he's only saying that cause he has a crush, I'M STILL YOUR FAVOURITE
yourusername: whatever helps you sleep at night x
landonorris
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,034,566 others
tagged: danielricciardo
landonorris: reunited and it feels so good 😊
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user3: always obsessed with this pairing
user4: they're cute but i know they're so annoying to fly with
danielricciardo: i knew you missed me :)
landonorris: of course i did you big sap
danielricciardo: so you didn't replace me with a younger and sexier version of me?
landonorris: not technically no
oscarpiastri: i'm just gonna take the compliment, thanks dan :)
danielricciardo: massive compliment, i'm extremely sexy
user5: thank the lord daniel is back who was going to make lando blush all the time?
danielricciardo: believe me he doesn't need me to do that when he flies on air max that's all y/n
landonorris: DANIEL?
danielricciardo: she took these photos - look at the blush. LOOK AT THE MATERIAL
yourusername: i think i'm just a better photographer than you two combined so i just capture my subjects well
danielricciardo: nope. i think lando just has a BIG FAT CRUSH
maxverstappen1: LMAO
yourusername: who wouldn't? (i'm shaking)
user6: wtf is going on here?
user7: i think we're witnessing bullying
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maxverstappen1
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 892,330 others
tagged: georgerussell63, alexalbon, landonorris & yourusername
maxverstappen1: getting some padel in on the weekend off
view all comments
user9: max really puts his hyperfixations above his beef because who thought we'd see him playing with george after baku
danielricciardo: how did lando get through a whole session with y/n there he can barely get through a sentence around her
landonorris: why are you so obsessed with exposing me in public
danielricciardo: funny.
yourusername: he did very well, he took a few balls to the face but he took them like a champ.
maxverstappen1: i'm sure he'd rather be the one putting balls in your face. get it? his balls? sex?
yourusername: i got it, you're not funny pal
maxverstappen1: well i think i'm hilarious so
user10: poor lando is going through the ringer rn
yourusername: whipped all of your asses call yourself professional athletes?
alexalbon: you were freakishly good what is your trick?
yourusername: only time i'm not playing padel is when i'm asleep or on a charter with max it's the only thing i can be better than him in
landonorris: you're definitely better looking than him and like 10 million times nicer than him
yourusername: you're not too bad yourself norris, you've just bagged yourself an extra bag of peanuts next flight x
alexalbon: romance is dead
f1wagsupdates
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liked by user11, user12 and 4,109 others
tagged: yourusername
f1wagsupdates: this is y/n y/ln potential new girlfriend of lando norris. she is a close friend of max verstappen, to the point that after she finished university and was without a job, he financed her education to be a air hostess, the job she now has on max's private jet. as far as we know she's never been in a public relationship but she also lives in monaco, is a padel enthusiast and has exchanged flirty comments with lando. also, she's a real one because she refuses to charter if jos wants to fly on air max - she slays for that one
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user13: if she's a longtime, potential childhood friend of max, the jos thing probably makes sense
user14: gosh she's so pretty
user15: giving your bestie a job and a life where you get to have her travel with you everywhere is really what nepotism should be
user16: for real where's my friend who will pay for me to learn to be a air hostess so we can hang out all the time
user17: i think her and lando would be cute
user18: and they would also make sense, they'd have a schedule that completely lines up and y/n would understand the sport and the lifestyle
user19: she also knows all of his friends already and they seem to get on with her
user20: "never been in a public relationship" she's just like us
user21: except she's gonna pull lando freaking norris and we're all still lonely
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 17,098 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: THE way to spend your saturday, perks of the job x
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user22: hey siri play that should be me by justin bieber
maxverstappen1: glad you could take a break from being a tourist to actually come watch me
yourusername: lies i'm always there you just don't know because i sit in hospitality so i can drink ;)
maxverstappen1: is that why my mum looked so happy to see me after sitting with you in hospitality?
yourusername: NO! sophie just loves me
user23: omg y/n and sophie just chill in hospitality? i love them
landonorris: i heard mclaren have great hospitality and actually has a cup of tea with your name written all over it
yourusername: hmmm we'll see if it beats the team who broke the cost cap on catering but i'm willing to take that risk
landonorris: i promise it's worth your time
danielricciardo: @maxverstappen1 look he's finally making a move 👀
maxverstappen1: ugh finally !!!
yourusername: yall mind? ACTUALLY i'm not coming back to red bull you're annoying
user24: has the bullying worked ?
mclarenf1
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 1,093,455 others
tagged: landonorris
mclarenf1: lando is back on the podium with a p2 finish with oscar just behind in p4 congrats papaya boys!!
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user25: LET'S GOOOOOO THE WIN IS COMING I CAN FEEL IT
oscarpiastri: congrats lando :)
landonorris: your podium will come oscar you're killing it right now
user26: omg faves i can't wait until the double podium
user27: y/n in the likes ..... 🤔 makes you think
yourusername: idk what you conspiracy theorists want to hear but you don't need to know everything that happens in the drivers' personal lives and i can like posts of my friends doing well
user28: so you're not together
yourusername: you people have the reading comprehension skills of a rock
maxverstappen1: congrats mate, try not to get too drunk tonight, air max is scheduled early in the morning 👍
landonorris: i'll be there no worries
danielricciardo: of course he will, his favourite will be there
landonorris: laugh all you will but i have a pack of peanuts promised to me
yourusername: i'll put salt in their drinks don't worry lando
maxverstappen1: i have done nothing wrong?
yourusername: i am in solidarity with lando
maxverstappen1: i'm ur best friend?
yourusername: he's cute :)
user29: you can't tell she doesn't like him back
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danielricciardo
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,209,778 others
tagged: yourusername, landonorris
danielricciardo: podiums give you balls. balls get you girlfriends.
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user32: HOLYYYYYYYYYY SHIT
maxverstappen1: they are not awake yet lol they're going to kill you
danielricciardo: i'd like to see lando try. y/n i am afraid of though.
maxverstappen1: you should be, a girl once threw a drink over me in the club for walking into her and y/n went feral. i was afraid and impressed
yourusername: had to protect your virtue max
maxverstappen1: much appreciated, probably the only time i've been attracted to you
landonorris: AND THE LAST TIME
user33: considering their new relationship just got exposed, they're doing pretty well
yourusername: oh we're waiting until daniel is in an enclosed space where if he tries to escape we all die :)
landonorris: he's going to regret this before such a long flight, esp with a hungover y/n
danielricciardo: is it too late to say i love you guys?
yourusername: free enchante merch and i'll drop it
danielricciardo: done.
landonorris: Y/N???
yourusername: what were we really going to do? plus i've had a crush on you for so long people would definitely know by now if i wasn't dead in bed
landonorris: you had a crush? why was i the only one getting bullied?
maxverstappen1: please refer to my comment about the feral club night
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landonorris
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,237,903 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: on a scale of 1 - 10 how annoyed would you be if someone joined a particular club on your private jet?
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user35: THE MILE HIGHER CLUB?
maxverstappen1: you're banned from the bathroom now, get a UTI i don't care do NOT shag on my plane
landonorris: so is that a 10 definietly not?
maxverstappen1: i will make sure you will never be able to use it again if you have sex on my plane with my best friend
landonorris: understood 😅
yourusername: i don't know how you did it but you made your first post about me even less romantic than dan's and his mentioned balls TWICE
landonorris: but i love you so that's all that counts right?
yourusername: i love you too but i also clean that plane so no one will shag on it or i'll scrap them
landonorris: i get the message no mile higher 😭
yourusername: but at least you get extra peanuts and the best pillow for life
landonorris: you spoil me too much
oscarpiastri: happy for you mate, it was painful watching you mope around the garage
yourusername: awww you moped ???? that's so cute
landonorris: i moped because i really liked you and daniel made it his mission to embarrass me constantly in front of you
yourusername: babe i've cleaned dan's sick off the floor of the jet nothing he could say could make me not like you
landonorris: thank the lord cause if i didn't ask you out i think i may have combusted
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 30,987 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: the 4am call times and mad max tantrums have all been worth it to meet you <3
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user36: god i have seen what you have done for others
maxverstappen1: now you're together i can say this, 1) i love you guys and i'm glad you're happy. 2) lando saw you once at a karting competition and had a crush ever since this was not new
landonorris: THAT WAS BETWEEN ME AND YOU
maxverstappen1: and he confessed that seeing you in your uniform is what finally pushed him over the edge
landonorris: STOP WHAT ARE YOU DOING
maxverstappen1: bro don't worry you guys are together, you're set for life
landonorris: thanks for having faith i guess?
maxverstappen1: BRO SHE IS SUPER DUPER IN LOVE WITH YOU
yourusername: he's not wrong
landonorris: hehehehehehehehe
oscarpiastri: he's literally sat in hospitality giggling and kicking his legs btw
landonorris: proudly so, my gf LOVES me
user37: lando got a gf before a win and i respect that
landonorris: i love you, can't wait for the rest of my life with you
yourusername: i can't wait, i'll even play golf with you x
danielricciardo: mate at least wait until the six month mark before you propose
landonorris: no promises x
note: hope you enjoyed, had this thought and i just had to do it. i'm working on requests and mamma mia p4!!
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