#and my response was like ‘CLIMBING and THESE CLOTHES BECAUSE THEY MAKE ME FEEL LIKE A BOY’. like verbatim.

[starry-bi-sky]

Childhood Friends Danny and Jason

(cw underage smoking / smoking as a form of bonding) (cw Jason thinking Danny killed himself but its only for a moment) (cw depictions of murderous intent? Danny wants to murder the Joker and he's a little descriptive about it)

Now on ao3 :) (and with a response and a third one)

AND ALSO A REMASTERED VERSION THAT YOU SHOULD TOTALLY GO CHECK OUT BECAUSE I WORKED VERY HARD ON IT.

This is… aha. Massive. Word count check: 9k+

this has probably been done before but hey, everyone loves a good trope and I wanted to share my take on this idea. 👏👏 So, Danny Fenton and Jason Todd being childhood friends. The Fentons lived in Crime Alley for a good long while during Danny's childhood. Nobody wanted to fund their research and Jack and Maddie struggled to keep any form of work for a multitude of reasons. Jack worked in construction due to his big build and Maddie had another job elsewhere.

Danny and Jason were friends during that time, really great friends. I'm not super solid on how they met yet but I do know it involves Danny committing petty crime and Jason deciding to jump in and help when he sees Danny struggling. Danny was distrustful (as all crime alley kids ought to be) but they eventually became thick as thieves, committing petty crime together.

While it's all too easy to make Danny the weaker one of the two with Jason protecting him, I actually really like the idea that they protected each other. Growing up (essentially) on the streets means Danny forcibly had to grow a backbone unless he wanted to get trampled all over. He is just as willing to scuffle with the bigger kids as Jason is, and he and Jason regularly fought each other whenever they needed to let off steam, or just because. They were a duo, having each other's backs in tough situations.

(Sometimes the pair of them would sneak out at night and try and get a glimpse of Batman and Robin while they soared through the air. It was like a game between the two of them to see who could spot the dynamic duo first. When they were a little older, Jason would steal his dad's cigarettes and share them with Danny while they searched for Batman and Robin)

So when Danny has to move away when they're eleven years old, it's pretty safe to say that Jason didn't speak to him for a week afterwards. Nothing Danny did could persuade him to otherwise, even when Danny insisted that it wasn't his fault and that he didn't want to move away either, but he didn't have a choice in the matter.

When the week was over, Jason climbed through Danny's window and sat in his room, dead silent and looking upset. he didn't speak until Danny fished out a stolen pack of cigarettes from his bed and handed one to Jason.

(It was a ritual they had where if one of them was upset about something but wasn't saying anything, the other one could then hand them a cigarette -- whether it be the one they were using or a new one -- and that would be an open invitation for the person to vent. The other one who handed him the cigarette wouldn't speak until the venter handed back the cigarette. Then back and forth it would go until the cigarette was gone.)

Jason ranted about how pissed he was about Danny moving, and they promised to try and stay in touch after he leaves. Neither of them had phones, but Danny was determined to send him a letters.

Danny moves to Amity Park and it's... an adjustment, that's for sure. He's angry, grumpy, upset, and every other negative feeling under the sun. He was going to a new middle school with new people he didn't know, away from all of the people he did know and away from his best friend.

(He does however keep his word about sending letters, and mails one out to Jason at the first opportunity.)

He refuses to get along with anyone, butts heads with the teachers, is combative, rude, and openly smokes in class -- which gets him plenty of detentions and a bad reputation. He speaks in a thick Gotham street accent and wears hand-me-down clothes that are too big and baggy on him. (His parents have yet to replace any of their wardrobes as they settle into their new life, and Danny is hesitant to spend the money to get new clothes.)

He only manages to befriend Sam and Tucker because one of the football kids was bullying Tucker and Danny stepped in. It was some blond jerk named Dash and when Dash threw the first punch, Danny broke his nose. Tucker found him later that day and reluctantly thanked him for his help.

Sam and Danny do not get along for the longest time. Sam questions Danny about his upbringing, his accent, his smoking. She judges him for talking back to the teachers despite doing it herself and for ruining his lungs with cigarettes. Danny tells her to fuck off, and when she tries to judge him and Tucker for not being vegetarian, he calls her a privileged brat.

Sam doesn't even look at him for two weeks after, and Danny refuses to apologize. Tucker is caught between a rock and a hard place as his old friend and new friend are feuding with each other.

They... sort it out eventually.

Danny and Jason send each other letters near religiously. Danny complains about Amity Park, and Jason complains about how Crime Alley isn't the same without him. Danny talks about the school and what he's learned, about Sam and Tucker, and how he's been getting into the astronomy books in the library. He steals Jason a book and sends it to him.

When Jason tells Danny that he was adopted by Bruce Wayne, Danny calls bullshit. There's no fucking way Bruce Wayne would even look at Crime Alley, regardless of his charity efforts towards it. But when he checks Gotham news later that week, he's hit in the face with every single news article announcing Bruce Wayne's newest ward; Jason Todd.

Cue freaking out. Jason talks all about living in Wayne Manor and what it's like there. He says that there's a monster library in a part of the house that Bruce says he has free reign over, and that Jason can have anything to eat as long as he asks Alfred to make it and it isn't a desert, and that he has his own monster-sized room that he got to pick out himself and decorate.

(When they both get phones, the first thing either of them do is add each other's numbers.)

When Sam complains about having to go to a Wayne Gala that her parents are dragging her to one weekend, the first thing Danny asks is if he can go with. It surprises Sam and Tucker; Danny was the last person they would have thought wanted to go with. HE hates the rich even more than Sam does. Danny stands firm in his decision, and refuses to elaborate.

"Besides." He says to Sam, with whom he's begun to get along with via 'the enemy of my enemy is a friend'. "Would you rather go alone or with someone you can tolerate?"

She brings him with and convinces her parents to allow Danny to come along, citing that she'll be on her best behavior if they do. They agree, and buy Danny a suit when he says that he doesn't have one of his own.

(He discovers that he hates wearing suit jackets and ties, but vests he doesn't mind. He doesn't like that he has to comb his hair back, but he does to make Sam's parents happy. They give him a crash course in etiquette that Danny's going to forget the next day, and soon enough off they go in a private jet to Gotham)

(he does not tell Jason he's coming.)

he feels mischievous and nervous as they touch down, his stomach swirling as Sam's parents usher them to a high-profile hotel that Danny's only ever dreamed about going into. He feels largely out of place as they walk through the lobby, and falls back on old habits: square shoulders, set jaw, make yourself look like the biggest person in the room.

They get ready in the hotel room, Sam's parents primp and preen for the night incoming, and Sam is dragged into it by her mother. Danny does only what's required of him, and fiddles with the sleeves of his fresh-ironed button-down that's been tailored to his body. He's itching for a cigarette, and didn't bring any with.

Sam's dad helps him with his tie, a bout of kindness that Danny doesn't think is one. Just obligation to prevent Danny from looking like a mess. Sam pesters him again about wanting to come, and his reasons for it, and Danny keeps mum.

He's stone-faced with anxiety as they get closer to the gala, and before they leave the limousine the Mansons rented Sam links arms with him. A form of solidarity that Danny needs as he squeezes their arms together and smiles weakly at her.

The paparazzi are loud, bright, and demanding, shouting questions over questions at them like overlapping tidal waves. Danny ignores them all and focuses on the front doors instead. Sam's parents whisper at the stairs that they are to greet the Waynes first, and Danny's heart leaps to his throat.

His heart is in his ears as they drift closer, Mister Wayne is preoccupied with another rich couple, smiling that charming billionaire smile that Danny saw on every billboard in Gotham, and then some in Amity Park. Getting so close to him feels unreal.

And there by his side is the one and only Jason Todd, who isn't even trying to hide the bored look on his face as he watches Bruce interact with the other adults. He's gotten taller in the year they've been away, and healthier. His hair looks like its been cut professionally and he doesn't look as street kid skinny.

Danny's arm, hooked with Sam's, tightens up, and he resists the urge to rush forward and hug Jason. He watches Jason's eyes sweep left, away from him, and then right, towards him. The air stills for a moment as their eyes lock.

Danny grins toothily at him, lopsided and playful in nature, and sees the moment Jason processes the sight before him. His arm starts slipping out of Sam's at the same time as an ecstatic smile stretches across Jason's face.

His lopsided grin fills out on the other end. "DANNY!" Jason yells, cutting off whatever Bruce Wayne and startling everyone within earshot. There's barely a moment for Bruce to look down when Jason shoves past him and runs at Danny.

Danny yanks his arm out of Sam's, "JASON!" He yells with just as much enthusiasm, and Jason nearly topples them right over when he collides with Danny. His arms wrap around Danny's shoulders, holding onto him tightly, and they're both laughing, spinning around like tops out of joy.

"You didn't tell me you were coming!" Jason cries, sounding accusing. Danny hugs him just as tightly, and laughs when Jason pulls away momentarily to punch his shoulder.

"I wanted it to be a surprise!" He defends, laughing between words as their spinning comes to a stop. They're both reluctant to pull apart, but they do and clutch the sleeves of their elbows tightly. "How could my best friend be adopted by the Bruce Wayne and have me not come confirm it with my own two eyes?"

"I sent you newspaper clippings!" Jason says, narrowing his eyes while his smile betrays his face. Danny quietly notices that his Gotham street accent is faded slightly.

"Oh that's what it was?" Danny's grin turns again, edging into a smirk. He feigns innocence, "I thought that was fire kindling." He has the newspaper clippings hung on the corkboard in his room, proud beyond words about his best friend.

Jason punches him in the shoulder again, hard enough to leave a bruise. "You jackass." He says, ignoring Danny's laughter even when he's holding back his own.

There's a soft, sharp clearing of someone's throat, breaking their attentions away from each other to the one that made the noise.

Bruce Wayne was a tall man, taller than Danny expected, and he looks exactly like his billboards. If less promiscuous than his perfume ads. Danny expects him to be upset with them both for disrupting his pretty rich gala, but instead he just looks gently amused, with an arched eyebrow. Overall though, he just looks fond.

Danny would be the first to admit that Bruce had taken in Jason as a charity case, something to fill the void after his other kid Dick Grayson finally moved out. But Danny’s a good judge of character — or he likes to assume he is — and those are not the eyes of a man who would take Jason in as a charity case. Those are the eyes of a man who actually, genuinely, cares about one Jason Todd.

The wriggly protective thing settles in his chest.

He doesn’t let go of Jason, but he does twist his smile into something a little more polite. Mister Wayne’s eyebrow arches higher, and he turns his blue-blue eyes onto Jason. “Who’s this, Jason?” He has that fancy Gotham Elite accent -- something that sounds like a mix between old transatlantic and faintly British -- that Danny's only heard in passing when he and Jason snuck up to the nicer parts of Gotham.

Jason stares at Mister Wayne, his grip on Danny tightens as his eyes flick to the other onlookers in the room. “This is Danny, B.” He says once his eyes turn back to Mister Wayne. “We grew up in Crime Alley together, he moved to Illinois last year."

Danny can see the uncomfortable expressions cross every rich person's face, murmurs sweeping across the room as soon their uncomfortable gazes turned judgmental and flinty. He's kept track of the tabloids after Jason's adoption, the ones calling him a charity case and looking down on him for being a street kid.

He inches a little closer to Jason, straightening up instinctively, as if they were back in Crime Alley and facing a pack of kids that didn't like them. He can see Sam's surprised expression from the corner of his eye -- he never told Tucker or Sam about where he grew up, although he's sure they had their suspicions.

He looks back to Mister Wayne and meets his blue-blue eyes, his smile has slowly begun to fade. Mister Wayne doesn't miss a beat however, and his smile stays plastered to his face. If anything, it gets a little softer, a little wider. "It's nice to meet you Danny -- Daniel? I'm so glad that Jason has a friend here." He holds out a hand.

Danny eyes him unsurely, and then takes his hand. "It's jus' Danny, Mister Wayne." He says, some of his old accent slipping through as he shook his hand firmly. He would have done it harder, but this was Jason's new guardian, and from Jason's letters he didn't sound too bad. "It's, uh, nice to meet you too. Jason's told me lots about you."

Mister Wayne's brows jump momentarily, he looks intrigued. He looks between Danny and Jason, and claps his hands together softly. "Well, Jay, how would you like to stay with Danny for a while, hm? I'm sure you too have a lot to catch up on."

Hope simmers in Danny's heart, and he glances to Jason to see that same hope on his face. "Really?" He asks, and Mister Wayne nods with a laugh.

"Of course! How could I keep two friends apart? Go on ahead, chum. I'll come get you when the gala ends."

And just like that, Bruce Wayne leaves Jason with Danny, diving back into a conversation with one of the rich gothamites and taking the attention with it as if he were the sun and everyone else a planet orbiting him.

Danny and Jason share grins, and throw their arms around each other with laughter. Danny is on cloud nine, pressing his nose into Jason's shoulder and breathing him in, fingers digging into the back of his suit hard enough to leave wrinkles in his jacket.

Sam demands answers when they finally, for real this time, pull apart. Why didn't he tell her that he was friends with Jason Todd!? Danny slings his arm around Jason's shoulders and keeps him close, and tells her that it was because he wanted it to be a surprise.

Sam's parents have unreadable expressions on their faces, part greed -- Danny is their in to the elusive Bruce Wayne -- and part disdain -- a Gotham street rat. Danny ignores them, they're unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

He introduces Sam to Jason, and Jason to Sam. And off they go to a corner of the room near the buffet table where they can eat and shit talk everyone else in the room in peace.

At some point in the night Sam is called back to her parents to meet some other fancy rich kids her parents want her to get along with, and Danny and Jason go off to the west end balcony to avoid anyone who may try and approach the new Gotham ward.

Danny hops up onto the balcony railing, kicking his feet as Jason pulls a cigarette pack out of his inner jacket pocket, and grins. "Don't tell Bruce," he says, handing the box to Danny first. "He's been trying to get me to quit."

"Hah!" Danny takes one just as Jason slips out a lighter. "That sounds like Jazz. She's been trying to get me to stop since we moved to Amity." Granted, she's been trying ever since she found out before they moved, but now she was even more insistent. "She hasn't found my stash yet."

At the end of the night when the Mansons are leaving and Danny has to leave with them, he walks back to Mister Wayne with Jason to tell him that he's leaving. Mister Wayne mourns his going, and tells him that he's always able to come visit.

"Any friend of Jason's is always welcome to the manor." He says with a blinding grin, pulling Jason close to his side and squeezing him tight. Jason's nose scrunches up, but he doesn't push away.

It becomes a new routine for them. The Mansons are all too happy to bring him with to the Wayne Galas (of which they start receiving more invites to due to their connection with Danny) and Danny is all too happy to spend the evening with Jason again. No matter what, they always end up on the balcony at some point in the night.

And, eventually, Danny is invited to stay at Wayne Manor either for a weekend or for a break. He jumps at the chance when winter break rolls around and his parents start their debate over Santa Claus again.

Danny and Jason stay up late into the night talking or playing video games during their sleepovers, and in the warmer nights they climb out and onto the roof to stargaze. Danny points out constellations - - things he can find in neither Gotham or Amity -- and rambles on and on about space.

There are plenty of times during the Wayne Galas that the event gets attacked by a rogue. More often than he'd like he loses Jason in the crowd, and has later stopped Robin or Batman in his panic to find him.

The first time it happened, he was in tears with terror. He grabbed onto Batman's cape, stopping the man from going back in as he babbled that his Jason Todd was still inside, that he disappeared during the chaos and he couldn't find him. Batman took his hands and calmly told him that he'd find Jason for him, and that he was sure he was okay, but he needed to calm down.

He found Jason later once everything had calmed down, and he screamed at him for disappearing during a rogue attack, if he ever did it again he'll kill him. Then he cried.

The second time it happened, Danny didn't even realize that Jason was gone until everything was already over. They'd been separated before the attack happened. He stopped Robin and Batman before they could leave, trying to keep his breathing under control as he asked again, if they had seen Jason Todd.

"That- that asshole keeps fucking ditching me when these things happen." His voice has an embarrassing wobble in it. "Please-- please tell me you've seen him, that he's alright."

Robin this time steps up to reassure him, that Jason Todd was out of the building. He got him out. "He's probably looking for you too, uhhh..."

"Danny" Danny says, and eyes him up and down. "You're the new Robin right?"

Robin stilled up, and Danny could understand it a little. He'd seen the thoughts on the new Robin online. He wasn't very popular at first. Robin nods curtly, and Batman was shuffled a little closer to him, almost protectively.

Danny grins at him. "Cool." He says, "Me and Jay used to sneak out onto the rooftops sometimes to try and spot Batman and the first Robin, we made it a game." He holds out a fistbump, "Thanks for doing what you do, man. I might not live in Gotham anymore, but I mean it. You're a living legend."

Robin looks like there's something stuck in his throat, and after a beat he returns the fistbump tentatively. "Th- uh, thanks." He stumbles out awkwardly, and then turns away, "Me and B- uh, better go."

Before Danny could even respond, Robin already had his grapple in hand and was grappling away. "You too, Batman." Danny says before Batman can follow.

When Danny sees Jason after that, and weight lifts off his chest and he hits him in the arm again. And then complains that he should have gotten Batman and Robin's autograph, it would have been epic.

By the fifth time it happens, Danny is cussing up a storm when Robin saves him, cursing out Jason and claiming that he needs to put that boy on a fucking leash. "We're a duo!" He scowls when Robin gets him outside, "I got his back, he has mine! I can't have his back when he's got no back to fucking have."

The eighth time it happens, Danny gets held hostage by one of the henchmen. He's become a recognizable friend of the Waynes, and when the Waynes are nowhere to be found, then the next best thing was up to offer. Danny isn't even mad this time around -- just relieved that Jason was fucking off somewhere where he couldn't get hurt.

Robin, however, seemed furious when he arrived, and broke the hostager's jaw with a single flying kick to the face. Jason found him rapidly quick soon after the situation had settled, and apologized over and over again.

Danny slings an arm around his shoulder and laughs that it was fine, Robin saved the day! His legs were shaking with the worn off adrenaline, something he tried to hide from Jason. "I'm just glad it was me instead of you, Jay." He grins. Jason looks like he swallowed a toad.

Jason stops disappearing as often after that, sticking close to Danny's side until the attack was over.

When Danny is fourteen, Jason dies, and his world unravels.

He calls the manor on a late night in April after Jason had stopped responding to his texts. Danny knew that Jason was just recently in a fight with Bruce, but he knows that Bruce loves Jason. He would know where he is, right?

When he calls, Bruce answers with a hoarse "hello?" as if he'd been crying all day, and Danny's blood turns to ice. The anxiety he'd been feeling beforehand doubles in size, and he feels himself stammering.

"Mister- uh- Mister Wayne? Um, I'm calling because Jason--" he hears Bruce inhale sharply on the other line, and his anxiety skyrockets into fear. "--hasn't been answering any of my texts and- and I'm gettin' real worried."

There's silence on the other end, and Danny feels a rock forming in his throat, gross and heavy like he was on the verge of throwing up. "Mister- Bruce? Mister B?"

There's a shaky breath, and then Bruce's voice crackles through the phone. "Um-- Jason, he, he's--" there's a sound like rustling, "he's been killed."

Danny's vision whites out with skyrocketing terror, his mind skidding to a stop. His body rapidly grows hot, and then chills, like a blacksmith striking a heated weapon. "What?"

When the phone call ends, Danny screams himself hoarse. Jazz and his parents come running into his room, his parents equipped with ghost weapons. Instead, they find Danny curled up in his bed, sobbing hoarsely.

Danny almost -- almost -- refuses to attend the funeral, nearly paralyzed with grief. Jazz coaxes him to go, to find closure if anything else, and he drags himself out of bed to go.

He feels numb the entire time. It's closed casket, so he can't even see him for one last time before Jason is buried in the ground. He's silent, and if he think he looks bad, then Bruce looks even worse, like he hadn't slept since Jason died and worse.

Danny grabs his sleeve before he leaves, and when Bruce turns to him with a dull look in his once vibrant eyes, he clings to him tightly. And cries. Bruce clings back just as tight, Danny feels tears drip into his hair.

"Who did it." Danny whispers, voice too hurt to speak any louder, when he pulls back. His fingers curl around Bruce's jacket tightly, desperately. His eyes hurt with tears. "You said he was murdered, B. Please, who did it."

Bruce looks down at him, and for the first time it really does feel like he's looking down at him. His face is blank, and his eyes close in grief. There is no answer, a silent no.

Danny's face twists up all ugly like, and he shakes Bruce's jacket. "Bruce, please. Tell me who did it."

Bruce refuses, his face full of grief.

Danny never returns to Gotham.

Prior to Jason's death and post their reunion, Danny had slowly begun to improve in school. He started caring more, he was putting in more effort, he was doing his homework and was actually enjoying class. There was the bullying from Dash and the A-Listers, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle, he was ignoring them for the most part.

Come Monday after the funeral, and Danny breaks Dash's nose when he starts up with his shit. He withdrew into himself, and it was like he was back to square one again, except this time it was much worse.

Everyone knew Danny was close friends with Jason Todd. So when news of his death finally reached the ears of Amity Park, the students of Casper High School kept their distance.

That following Friday, Danny dies in the portal and comes back. A month later he becomes Phantom, the ghost-fighting ghost. the ghost Phantom wears his hazmat suit partially undone, showing a tanktop he didn't wear in death under the initial suit while the sleeves are tied around his waist. Vicious, glowing lichtenburg scars travel up his arm and neck and torso, covering half of his face while a pair of scientist-like goggles covers his eyes. He's bitter and angry, showing off his death.

Look at me, Phantom's form says, I am a dead child. Look at me look at me look at me. Mourn me. I am a dead child. LOOK AT ME. MOURN ME.

A few weeks later he enters the ghost zone and realizes that he could find Jason. And he spends a weekend scouring the ghost zone for him. He finds Gotham in the zone, and rather than finding Jason, he finds Robin.

Danny didn't know he'd died. And he flies towards him, asks him if he's seen Jason, reveals that it's him, Danny Fenton. Robin stares at him, mouth agape, and peels off his mask to reveal Jason Todd.

They both cry, and when Danny tells him how he died, Jason looks pale in the face. "You didn't- you didn't kill yourself because of me, did you?"

Danny fervently denies it. No, no. He didn't, he didn't. It was an accident. Totally unrelated. But enough about that, what the hell happened? Bruce wouldn't tell him anything at the funeral.

Jason clams up, his ghostly face losing its color, and Danny curses himself. He tells Jason that he doesn't have to tell him, he doesn't have to say anything. They sit in silence.

"It was the Joker." Jason says.

That's all Danny needs to know. He nods quietly. 'I'll kill him.' He thinks to himself, a stubborn set in his jaw. "Okay."

It had always been a plan; a thought wriggling in the back of Danny's mind ever since Bruce told him that Jason had been killed.

Not died. Killed.

Danny wanted the fucker dead the moment he realized it. He just needed to know who did it. He thinks Bruce knew it too, could probably see it in his eyes the moment Danny asked him who did it. He isn't sure if he should hate Bruce more for keeping it from him now.

They spend hours together, just soaking in each other's presence. Danny tries to take him through the ghost portal, to bring him back to the land of the living. But much like Kitty, Jason's form is tied to the zone. Danny promises to visit every day.

And he does. Or he tries to. The grief doesn't go away, but with the comfort of knowing that Jason was on the other side, Danny feels a little better. He tells Jason about being Phantom, and Jason helps train him. It feels like they're kids again and are fighting just because they want to. Its a bout of familiarity in a place that feels unfamiliar. All they need are cigarettes.

And then six months later he loses him again. Danny scours the ghost zone for him for the second time, and this time he doesn't find him.

His haunt is still in the zone though. He didn't move on. He's still here, somewhere.

Danny is convinced that Jason was in the Elsewhereness, and looks for him in between ghost fights and his social life. He visits Jason's haunt every day, knowing that Jason should be able to feel when another ghost enters his home. He does not show up.

(He never thinks that Jason came back to life, and Jason doesn't remember his time in the ghost zone)

When Danny is nineteen, Vlad Masters blackmails him into going to another Wayne Gala. Begrudgingly, Danny goes. He's taller than he used to be, having inherited his dad's monstrous height and his mom's leanness. He has piercings, some of them he got after a lost bet from Sam and Tucker, and he's given himself an undercut.

He still prefers vests over suit jackets, and he still smokes. A little less than before, he sneaks a pack into his pocket before he leaves, along with a lighter. Vlad gives him a dirty look the whole time - he knows.

"Don't give me that look." "That stuff kills, you know" "I'm already dead."

It's like deja vu when he arrives; an awful bout of deja vu, that is. The paparazzi is still as bright and loud and annoying as it always was, and they don't recognize him at all. Something he thinks of as a soft mercy up until one of the reporters asks Vlad who he is.

Vlad smiles and tugs Danny into the camera frame, "Why, this is my godson!" He crows, and shoots Danny a look that is downright smug I'm sure many of you may know him as Daniel Fenton?"

If looks could kill, Vlad would be ash. Danny isn't quite sure why he still agreed to this -- blackmail or no. He felt itchy being in Gotham; jumpy. He's never forgotten his vow to kill the Joker, in fact it was something he still desperately wants.

But the threat of Rath, the name he chose for his evil future self, haunts him just as much as his murderous intent. If he kills the Joker, would he stop?

Danny's almost afraid of what he'll do if he ever lays eyes on the Joker in person. He doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from wrapping his hands around that stupid clown's neck and watching the light leave his eyes.

He pushes the thoughts to the side, and smiles lopsidedly as cameras and microphones flood his face, reporters yelling over themselves as they clamor to get a shot of the old Wayne family friend.

Danny turns and walks inside without answering a single question, flexing his fingers in and out of fists. Vlad gracefully hurries after him, and Danny can hear his glare burning into his back.

"You told me to come," Danny hisses to him once he's beside him, meeting Vlad's gaze piercingly, "not that I should play nice."

"Don't embarrass me, Daniel." Vlad hisses back, trying to look the upmost calm as eyes turn onto them. "I'll make you regret it."

"You embarrass yourself, fruitloop." Danny shoots back, walking away before Vlad could get a retort in. He sees Bruce Wayne on the other side of the room.

His heart seizes with nostalgia. He hasn't seen Bruce since Jason's funeral, hasn't spoken to him either. He doesn't know how to feel about him, but he'd been keeping tabs on Bruce both as himself and as Batman.

Danny's feet carry him forwards before he can think about it, silently weaving between the throng of rich people vying for his attention. It's only when he gets closer does he see the little shadow clinging to his side: Damian Wayne.

The newest little bird, Danny realizes, and stifles a smile at the surly expression on Damian's face as two older women coo over him. He reminded him of Sam, who had long since stopped coming to these things the moment she was able to.

The feeling of eyes on him turns Danny's attention away from Damian, and instead finds them back on Bruce's, who stares at him with a little furrow between his brows. As if he recognized him, but he wasn't sure from there.

Danny grins crookedly the moment he's within earshot. "Mister B!" He exclaims, slipping into what remained of his Gotham street accent. Recognition flashed in Bruce's eyes, and the man smiled widely. "Long time no see, old man."

"Danny," Bruce says, his name breathing out like relief. He slips between the crowd surrounding him -- who are now watching Danny -- and pulls Danny into a close hug. "It's good to see you again."

Danny hesitates for a moment -- he wasn't expecting Bruce to hug him -- and returns the gesture. "It's good to see you too, Bruce." He admits. Bruce was still using the same cologne that he did when Danny was a kid. He blinks heavily.

He pulls away quickly, clapping Bruce lightly on the shoulder as Damian quickly latches onto his father's side again. Damian glares daggers at him, fingers digging into Bruce's pantlegs like a possessive little kid.

He made Danny's ghost sense tingle in the back of his throat, creeping up slowly like a spider before stopping suddenly before it reached his mouth. It hummed, and then disappeared.

Danny smothered a frown. Since when did Batman work with ectoplasm? “This must be Damian." He says to Bruce, and holds out a hand to Damian -- he doesn't crouch, he had a feeling that Damian would be less than appreciative if he did that. "You've really expanded the nest since the last time I saw you."

Damian's eyes narrow at him. Bruce laughs lightly, "Ah yes, Tim is around here somewhere. I'm sure you'll see him soon."

"Father," Damian says, his voice layered with an accent. He glares up at Danny with piercing green eyes. "How do you know this man?" He sounds distrustful, Danny respects that and drops his hand.

"This is Danny Fenton." Bruce says, and Danny lets him introduce him. "He was Jason's friend."

An expression similar to bewilderment flashes briefly over Damian's face, and he eyes Danny in disbelief. "Todd had friends?"

Oh. So that's how he wanted to be. Bruce had a little elitist on his hands. Danny's smile drops like a deadweight, and any lingering endearment he had hardens like ice in his chest, fury slowly taking its place like a flickering candlelight. "It's not polite to speak ill of the dead, Mister Wayne." He says coldly, his voice made of chips of ice.

Damian blinks, the disbelief disappearing from his face. The closest thing to a recoil Danny thinks he's going to get. He doesn't care. No one speaks about his best friend that way.

"I grew up with Jason, actually." He continues, breathing in slow and deep, trying to keep the ghostly possessive-protective-rage under control. "I was his best friend."

He turns, almost robotically, towards Bruce, and tries not to look so angry. "I'm going to go find Tim, Mister B." He says, and tries to offer up a weak smile for the man. It comes out as a grimace instead.

"And..." he pauses, flicks his eyes towards Damian, and then looks at Bruce. "I'll... try and keep in contact, B. Tell Dick I said hi, alright? I'll see you in a little bit."

Bruce nods, looking vaguely disappointed and sighing slow through his nose. Danny walks away as Bruce turns to address his youngest, and doesn't bother listening in on what he has to say.

He does, eventually, find Tim Drake. He spots him in a crowd instantly - it's hard not to, and he makes his way over to him. He's not sure Tim Drake would recognize him, Bruce didn't at first and Danny had been around him constantly.

Except Tim Drake does recognize him, much to Danny's surprise. They lock eyes and Tim immediately makes his way over to him. "Danny Fenton!" He says and stops in front of him, "What a surprise, we weren't expecting you tonight."

"Tim Drake," Danny replies, smiling a little as his earlier hurt begins to fade away. "I'm surprised you know me."

"There are pictures of you in the manor with Jason." Tim explains, stuffing his hands into his pockets with an easy-going smile. "It's hard not to know you."

"It’s hard not to know you too,” Danny retorts, a sly smile slowly spreading across his face. “Although you’re a lot taller than you used to be, when you were lurking around Bruce and Jason and I.”

Ohhh Danny recognizes him alright. One part due to all the news articles and tabloids on him after he was adopted by Bruce, and the other part because he remembers the little shadow lurking near plants pots and table legs that used to follow him and Jason around at galas just like these.

Knowing that Jason was Robin, he wonders if Jason knew he was there too.

The effect is immediate: Tim’s eyes grow comically large, and a red tint glows at the tip of his ears as he shrinks back like a turtle trying to hide into its shell. “You— you noticed that!?” He hisses.

“I did!” Danny grins, large and wide, stifling a laugh as the red tint spreads over Tim’s cheeks and nose. He looks mortified. Danny coos. “Aww, I thought it was adorable that Jason had a little shadow. I’m sure he would have loved you if you had just come over and said hi. He had a big soft spot for kids.”

Tim snorts and it— it almost sounds derisive? “Sure he would.” He looks sad, and the mirth in Danny’s chest shrivels up like a flower without light. The smile fades from his face, and all that’s left is a strange, staunch reminder that Danny and Bruce weren’t the only ones that probably mourned.

He touches Tim’s shoulder lightly, “Hey, I’m sorry.” He says, trying to look as apologetic as he feels. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m sorry, I miss him too.” Like a fucking limb he missed him.

There’s something that flickers in Tim’s eyes, passing through too fast for Danny to realize what it is. He assumes its gratefulness, because Tim relaxes a little and offers him a weak little smile. “I wish I had talked to him.”

Danny sees an out and takes it, he forces out a short laugh, grinning widely. “I can tell you all about him if you’d like,” he offers, “I told Mister B I’d keep in touch anyways. I’ve missed him and Alfred quite a lot in the last few years.”

“Not Dick?”

“That dipstick wasn’t around often enough for me to form any sort of emotional attachment to him.” Danny says in a half-complaining tone, placing his hands on his hips. “Although I did like his puns.”

Tim snickers, “I’ll tell him you said that then. Nobody likes his puns.”

“Go on ahead,” Danny grins, laughter swirling in his chest and making his core thrum with warmth. Damn, he’s missed this family. “I stand by my decision. Puns are funny.”

“Let’s get a photo then.” Tim says with a hand already fishing in his pocket for his phone. “He’ll be devastated to know that you were here and he didn’t get to see you.”

“Sure.” And Danny sidles on next to Tim, throwing an arm around his shoulders — and making a noise of surprise when his arm was able to fit comfortably — as if he was just resting it on a counter.

He totally forgot how tall he was compared to Tim. Forgot that he’d been looking down the entire time they’d been talking. “Why’d I get my dad’s height.” He complains, and bends his knees as Tim raises the phone with the front-facing camera on.

Tim snickers under his breath, and takes the picture while they’re both smiling wide. Danny immediately stands up, and peers over Tim’s shoulders to look at the picture.

It’s a good one, with the fringe of Danny’s curls falling slightly over his left eye and making the dimple on his right cheek more prominent. He could see the barely-there smattering of freckles he had across his nose, the ones that became more prominent when the sun was out. His smile was lopsided, Danny’s favorite kind of smile.

He whistles lowly, “That’s a good one,” he says aloud, and smiles impishly at Tim when he looks at him. “You should send that one, I look hot in it.”

Tim snorts, his ears reddening as he looks down at his phone. “Yeah sure, no problem.” He says quickly, and Danny looks away when he pulls up the messenger app. He’s never felt comfortable looking over people’s shoulders when they were on their phone.

“I’m gonna go take a smoke break.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and curls his fingers around the box and lighter inside. “I’ll—“

“Be on the west-end balcony.” Tim finishes, the red in his ears darkening as he glances up from his phone to smile embarrassedly. “I know.”

Danny snorts, “Okay.” His voice is thick with amusement. “Let me know how Dipstick reacts, alright?” He backs up slowly, awaiting Tim’s response. Tim merely waves a hand at him, a weak gesture of “yeah yeah” that makes Danny grin before he flips around and marches towards his favorite smoking balcony.

———————

(Tim pulls up the family group chat and loads the selfie into the text bar. His face feels warm with embarrassment even as his thumbs fly across the screen.

Tim: look who i found at the latest charity gala :) [image]

Hee awaits eagerly a response, and finds he doesn’t have to wait long. Dick’s thought bubble appears on screen, then Cass’s — of which it only exists for a moment before disappearing.

Dick: holy shit, is that who i think it is?

Tim responds quickly, and his message sends.

Tim: yep. He wanted me to tell you that he thinks your jokes are funny.

Dick: they are funny

Tim rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment, really thinks. He weighs his pros and cons. And then his fingers fly across the screen again.

Tim: hey Jason are you not gonna say anything?

There’s no response for all of thirty seconds — of which it stretches on to an uncomfortably long minute — and then Jason’s thought bubble appears.

Jason: what do i have to say to a bunch of idiots blowing up my phone in the middle of patrol?

Tim: harsh. do you recognize the guy in the photo?

Jason’s response is instant. Too fast for him to have actually looked at the photo itself. He’s just trying to spite Tim then. Tim doesn’t care, he has the upper hand here

Jason: no and I don’t care, i have patrol

Tim knows he didn’t look at the photo, and yet he can’t help stifle a shit-eating smile and feign innocence

Tim: really? You and Danny used to be so close, color me surprised

His teeth dig into his lower lip, he doesn’t need to in order to hide a smile. But it gives him something to do. Jason is worryingly silent for a long, long time, and Tim can almost imagine him staring long and hard at the selfie. Tim knows he will be later.

Finally, Jason’s text bubble shows up. It exists for a long time, before finally Tim’s phone buzzes with his message alert.

Jason: that’s danny?

Tim feels all too gleeful. Smugness swirling in his chest like kicked up sand as he types his response: yep! Apparently he showed up today, although I’m not sure with who since I don’t see Miss Manson around here.

Damian: Father says to get off your phone, Drake. We are at a Gala and your behavior is most unbecoming

Tim: can it demon spawn, I was just telling Jason that his friend Danny is here

Damian: He can’t be too important if he doesn’t even know Todd is alive

Tim: how would you know that?

Damian: When Father introduced him as Todd’s friend, I expressed my surprise that Todd even had friends, considering how unpleasant he can be. Fenton became quite cross with me after that and quickly excused himself thereafter

Dick: you said what!? Damian that’s not okay

Damian: Father made that quite clear after Fenton left in a huff. My mistake for thinking that Todd had told his ‘supposed best friend’ that he was alive.

Dick: he didn’t even tell us we were alive at first

Damian: He did eventually, didn’t he? Clearly Todd doesn’t seem to care too much about Fenton if he hasn’t even informed him of his being alive at this point.

Jason’s thought bubble quickly pops up, and then dissipates, then pops up again. Tim quickly pockets his phone before he can see Jason’s response. He doesn’t feel smug anymore, just uncomfortable.)

———————

Stepping out onto the west-end balcony feels like a blast from the past. A painful one at that. Danny’s fingers dig into his cigarette pack, and he pulls it out with a sense of bittersweet familiarity.

It feels like a lifetime ago that he once stood here with Jason. The package clunks dully as his fingers scrape against the side, and he fishes a cigarette out of the box before stuffing it back into his pocket.

“Quite the night isn’t it.” He says to nothing, to ghosts of the past, to himself. He turns and sits on the railing, sticking his legs out like a tripping hazard while Gotham’s hot city wind blows through the air.

He looks up and only sees the ugly pollution yellow sky looking down at him. It’s an unfamiliar feeling to him. He loves the stars and yet when faced with a smog that covers it, he feels more at home.

Danny’s fingers find the lighter, and with a few clicks a small open flame appears in existence. There’s a poem here, he can feel it. But he feels too tired to find it.

The cigarette lights, and the lighter dies in response. Returning back to his coffin-like pocket until he needs to use it again. He pulls a leg up, resting his chin on his knee with a heavy, tired sigh.

He soaks in the sounds around him. The ugly city warmth nips at his jaw. The music inside is muffled by the force of two glass doors and walls on all four sides, and Danny can hear late night traffic coming by on the road nearby. It’s a special kind of ambience you can only find on the west end balcony.

Half a decade ago, Danny had played a part with that ambience with Jason. Now it was just him, and Jason was nowhere to be found. It left a hopeless kind of feeling in his chest. An all-suffocating kind of fear that filled him head to toe with an intensity only ghosts could have.

His body winds up like a spring, and Danny holds his breath. When he exhales two minutes later, the spring stutters and jolts, and his body relaxes with a tremble.

He misses Jason. He misses Jason.

Ghosts are emotional creatures. They feel it from their crown to their soles. And emotional wounds never really heal. They scab over and fester, waiting to be picked at again and again so it can bleed as fresh as it did when it first opened.

Danny’s grief is never going to go away, he thinks. It’s clung to him like a parasite; shaped him and molded him. The wound was too close to him when he died, and now it will stay with him forever.

He opens his eyes when his ghost sense tingles, a heavy feeling in his throat that is neither nicotine nor grief. It’s just like Damian’s, but stronger. Potent. Older. It reaches the top of Danny’s throat and sits at the base of his tongue, like a hand about to suffocate him.

He looks up, cigarette hanging off his lips, and the Red Hood drops down beside him. He stands in the same spot Jason once did, and that alone makes the ghostly core in Danny seize possessively.

Don’t you dare stand where he stood, it hisses, coiling around his lungs like smog. Danny grits his teeth and feels his ghost sense evaporate. He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, and nicotine smoke pours out like a cheap version of his ghost sense.

“Red Hood.” He says plainly, his free hand coiling and uncoiling like cat’s claws against the railing. “A surprise to see you here.”

Danny knows through process of elimination who most of the Gotham vigilantes are: Dick is Nightwing, Bruce is Batman, Tim is Red Robin, Damian is Robin, and Cass is Orphan. There are a few who he doesn’t know, however. Like Batgirl and Red Hood.

It’s fine, he doesn’t need to know. Danny of all people understands the importance of a secret identity.

Red Hood doesn’t say anything, just stares at him as if he’s a deer in headlights. His body all tensed up like he isn’t sure what to do now that he’s here in front of Danny. Like he wasn’t expecting Danny to be here at all.

Danny’s brows furrow. “Sorry, am I in your spot?” He asks, and begins to push off the railing. “I didn’t think vigilantes used the Wayne Hall west-end balcony, I can leave if you want.”

He’s already begun to move towards the door.

The Red Hood lurches in his spot, “No!” He yells, and Danny stops in place with raising eyebrows. Red Hood’s fingers cringe, and he straightens up.

He’s shorter than Danny, he notes. Which isn’t much of revelation. Everyone is shorter than Danny.

“No,” Red Hood repeats, sounding sturdier than before, “No. You’re fine. I’m just stopping here for a quick rest before resuming patrol.”

…Danny doesn’t question it. It’s none of his business about other vigilantes and their practices. He shrugs and breathes out more smoke, “Alright.” He says, and walks back over to the railing to sit on it. “I’m Danny, by the way.”

The Red Hood nods, and a silence falls over them. Danny doesn’t care enough to make it feel uncomfortable, but the Red Hood seems unsettled by something. Lost in thought. He leans his back against the railing similar to Danny, and then switches a few seconds later to a new pose.

He does it again, and again, and again. Until finally he flips over and leans his stomach against the railing, arms resting against it. It is starkly like what Jason used to do, and Danny stares at him long and hard.

He frowns. And says nothing.

When Danny’s cigarette is nothing more than a butt of nicotine, he crushes it in his hand and watches the ash flutter down to the ground. The heat stings his hand, but its nothing his ghostly healing can’t fix.

The Red Hood is already holding out another one when Danny’s hand drifts to his pocket for the box.

Danny stares at him, sudden wariness opening up like floodgates that sit at the bottom of his stomach.

His frown deepens, his eyes flicker up and down at Red Hood. His hands hover over his pocket. “I have my own.” He says, and watches subtly as the Red Hood hides a wilt. As if he’d been expecting Danny to take it.

“Alright.” The Red Hood says, trying to sound unbothered. He retracts the cigarette away from Danny, quiet all the way. He’s looking away.

Danny plucks the cigarette out of his hand, startling the Hood enough that Red snaps back to look at him. Danny yanks his lighter from his pocket. “I won’t say no to a free cigarette.” He says, slightly muffled with the stick between his teeth. It lights.

Silence falls over them again, and when one minute stretches into five, whatever hope that had been digging into the shoulders of Red Hood finally pulls away and leaves him slumping subtly.

‘A ciggie for your thoughts?’ Nine year old Jason Todd whispers one night with an impish grin, holding up a cigarette pinched between his two fingers. ‘I stole it from my old man. He won’t even notice its gone.’

Danny is halfway through it when he speaks. “The Joker killed my best friend.” He says, and watches from the corner of his eye as the Red Hood flinches. Is he startled by Danny speaking, or startled by the bluntness of him starting?

“He beat him to death.” Danny continues, staring stone-faced away from Red Hood. His grief claws up his lungs and burrows into his heart again. His fingers dig into the railing. “He beat my best friend to death.”

The Red Hood is silent, his body as still as the grave. Silence stretches out between them both, and like he’d been thinking, the Hood finally speaks: “How do you know?”

He’s not holding the cigarette, he broke his and Jason’s rule. Danny bounces the stick between his fingers. “His ghost told me.” He says, taking a trembling breath. “His ghost told me so, before he disappeared.”

The Red Hood says nothing, and Danny gathers his thoughts. The ones that had been buried deep next to his core, shoved down ever since Danny learned of Rath and a terrible future where a world is destroyed by one ghost’s hands.

Danny has never said it out loud before. His face scrunches up briefly, and then smooths out when his eyes squeeze shut. “I’m going to kill him, Red Hood.” He murmurs when he opens his eyes, turning his face toward the vigilante. The sound is sucked out of the air.

The Red Hood stares at him, but he doesn’t say a word. Danny pushes on, teeth grinding into teeth as he flips his silvery scarred hand back and forth. Palm up, palm down. “It’s why I haven’t been back to Gotham in a while.” He admits, voice still quiet. “If I see the Joker I will kill him, and I won’t feel bad for it.”

“Not today though,” he says, and closes his hand, “today I’m here on a favor to Vlad Masters. Then after this I’ll go visit my friend. I need to apologize for not seeing his grave in a while. I’ll have to stop by a florist to see if they have any zinnias. Jay likes those.”

He takes out the cigarette in his mouth and breathes out one last cloud of smoke. And then he crushes the cigarette stick under his foot and walks back inside.

#….AND THATS ALL I HAVE FOR THIS AU #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #dp crossover #dpdc #dp dc crossover #childhood friends au #whats the jasonxdanny ship name again?? #Undead ship? #no no wait its dead on main #dead on main #cw cigarettes #cw smoking #smoking tw #oh fuck this got long (story of my life) but onfg i didnt wanna make #more than one part #anyways Danny and Jason are buddies uwu #thank god that tumblr has a seemingly endless word count #one sided timxdanny #tim’s crush on danny is basically the same thing #as a little sibling developing a crush on their older brother’s friend #he’ll get over it in a few months #its a small infatuation not to worry #danny is completely oblivious to it #thanks dc writers for making Tim imortally sixteen #it makes everyone else’s ages a little easier to remember #you can see me running out of steam at the last stretch of this monster thing

[cauliflowercounty]

Special Request (Feyd Rautha x Reader)

My larger Feyd fic is almost done and will be out soon I promise, but I had an idea for a drabble that I really wanted to write because I can’t get this thought out of my head. It’s sorta stupid but I thought it was cute.

Summary: you’re the only person on Giedi Prime with hair, so Feyd gets you shampoo :)

Reader’s gender not specified

Feyd is sweet if I want him to be

no warnings

—

“My love?” Feyd says as you walk back to your shared quarters after a long day of diplomatic meetings. “May I ask why you’ve been covering your head as of late when we are outside of our chambers?”

“Oh…” you trail off, trying to come up with an excuse. “I’ve… been liking the headscarfs more as of late. Plus, they keep me warm. You know I find the halls cold.”

Feyd shakes his head. “I know when you aren’t being truthful with me.”

You sigh. Of course he saw right through you, him being your husband, after all. “It’s going to sound ridiculous, Feyd.”

“I promise I will not think any less of you. I could never,” he assures you by enclosing your hand in his and giving it a firm squeeze.

“I… don’t like the way my hair looks,” you admit, which makes him frown. He’s always disliked when you talk down about yourself.

“I love your hair,” he immediately says. “It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

“I know you do, Feyd, and I’m really very flattered, but it’s looked awful recently,” you say. “I haven’t been able to wash my hair properly since I got here. The body soap that you have here is lovely, but it’s really not meant for my hair.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he questions. You’ve been married for years.

“I didn’t want to be a bother, especially since I’m the only one that would ever need it on this planet,” you counter as he immediately drops your hand and turns on his heel to head back the way you came.

“Feyd!” You call out to him, worried he’s angry at you, but all he does is call back to you telling you not to worry and that he’ll meet you in your quarters later, leaving you in the hallway in a state of bewilderment.

—

A few days later, Feyd pulls you aside as you gaze out at the industrial skyline of Geidi Prime and starts walking you through the halls.

“I have something to show you,” he says as he takes you to the door of your shared quarters. He unlocks the door and immediately takes you into the bathroom.

“Feyd, what is this?” You gasp when you enter, seeing the room lit by candles and the bathtub full of hot, soapy water. On a tray next to the tub, you see more different kinds of of haircare items than you’ve ever seen in your life.

“What do you think?” he asks. “I had it all brought in specially for you.”

“I love it,” you reply. “I can’t believe you did this just for me.”

“You know I would do anything for you,” he smiles, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. You squeal as you grab a bottle and shed your headscarf and clothes before climbing into the tub and dunking your hair in the water. Feyd smiles at your giddiness, taking the bottle from you and positioning himself on his knees behind the tub. He opens the bottle and puts some of the shampoo on his palm and spreads it onto your hair. Gently massaging your scalp, he works the suds through your hair with his fingers as you close your eyes and sink into the tub, relaxing at his touch.

“You’re marvelous, you know that, my love?” He asks as you hum in response.

“Thank you for this, Feyd,” you grin, feeling all of the stress from the day melt away at his touch.

“Anything for you,” he replies, his heart swelling seeing you so happy.

#x reader #dune part 2 #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #dune movie #dune #feyd x you

[golden1u5t]

Hiii I love your page so so so much and your writing never disappoints! I've had this idea in my head where Spencer and y/n both get high and had previously talked about wanting to try high sex and it's been STUCK IN MY HEADDD. I hope you have fun writing this if you do, keep up the good work! 🩶

thank you so much, it means a lot! MENTIONS OF WEED

this post is 18+

“Stop looking at me like that.” Even with the weed clouding Spencer’s mind he was still just as shy, still just as nervous under your gaze. He turned away from you and pressed the pillow he was holding further into his lap.

You smiled at him from across the room, the spots you both ended up after finishing off your blunt. He couldn’t see you because he knew if he did then he might not have been able to control himself, not with his mind clouded and your eyes low and staring at him with need.

Slowly, you moved off of the chair you had been sitting in and sat yourself right next to him, cupping his chin and making him look at you. “How am I looking at you, Spencer?”

He could feel his body melting into your touch from the way his name rolled off of your tongue. Spencer was usually good at keeping his composure around you but tonight had been different, it was like his body was fighting against him. Your body subconsciously moved closer to him and his did the same. By the time realized that you had gotten closer, you were almost halfway onto his lap.

“Like you want to eat me, like-like you want me.” He whispered, adjusting the pillow again so it covered the tent forming in his sweatpants. You looked down at his hands tightly fisting the corners of the pillow, almost laughing at how you could see his veins pushing out against his pale skin.

You looked back up at him and the conversation you had with him a couple weeks back came to your mind.

“What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do?” Spencer asked you, taking a hit from the blunt that sat between his fingers before passing it back to you. You sat crisscross in front of him on your bed.

“I’m not sure.” You mumbled, thinking harder for your answer before it clicked. “Actually, i’ve always wanted to try having sex while high. I heard it’s better than doing it while drunk.”

You hummed in response, sliding off of the sofa and pulling him up with you. You led him to your room and pushed him in, making sure to close the door behind you.

Spencer looked around your room as if he hadn’t been in there many times before, he was just in the nicely decorated room a couple days ago.

“You know how we talked about having sex while high a couple weeks ago?” You asked, walking in front of him and making him look down at you by tugging on the strings of his sweatpants. He nodded his head, a small blush coating his skin as he realized where the question was headed. “I want to try it… with you, right now.”

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I want you, Spencer." He stumbled forward at your tugging but he didn’t dare tell you to stop, instead he brought both hands up and cupped your face before crashing his lips into yours. A small half gasp, half moan flowed out of your mouth at the urgency of his kiss. Spencer put his hands under your thighs and hoisted you up before sitting on the edge of your bed.

He moved his hands to your hips and rocked your body on his bulge. You tugged at his hair before breaking away from his lips, causing him to lean forward and try to press your lips back together.

“I need to take these off.” You huffed, standing up and quickly tugging your top over your head. You quickly discarded the rest of your clothes and climbed back onto his lap. Spencer moved his hand up and let it rest on the back of your neck, he pulled you towards him and crashed your lips together once more.

You rocked your hips on his lap and tugged at his hair, small gasps leaving your lips as his clothed cock teased against your clit. Spencer could feel a damp spot forming on his pants from your arousal, he didn't mind one bit, he loved it. You eventually got tired of just kissing him, you broke apart from the kiss and started to tug at his shirt. Spencer could hardly believe that he was finally getting to have you, getting to touch you. Thanks to his great memory, he would never forget this night.

"Your pants, I'm sorry." You sheepishly smiled and lowered yourself on you knees in front of him. You grazed your fingertips over the dark spot on his grey sweatpants, his hips jolted up from the light touch. You pulled at his pants and boxers until they pooled at his ankles, you shifted closer to him and wrapped your hand around his length. Spencer had imagined this scene - you on your knees in front of him- many times before, always late at night after he left your place.

You leaned forward and swirled your tongue around his leaking tip, Spencer let out a small hiss and pulled your hair back into a makeshift ponytail.

"Y/N- please- I need more." He gasped, you looked up at him and took more of him into your mouth. Under any other circumstances you would've teased him, taken your time, but the high would only last so long and you wanted to experience him while it was still there.

“You gonna fuck me now, Spence?” You got into the bed and situated yourself on your back. Spencer was on you within seconds, spreading your legs to make room for himself between them. You wrapped you legs around his waist and pulled him in, he paused once he realized that he was just one push away from being inside of you. "What's wrong? Do you still want to do this? We don't have to."

"No-No, it's not that. I just- I've only done this once before." He looked away from you so he wouldn't have to see the disappointment in your eyes but when you cupped his face a made him look at you, he couldn't see a trace of disappointment. You smiled gently at him and pushed his hair from his face.

"I have a pre-roll in that drawer right there. We can smoke while we do it, you know, to calm your nerves." Spencer had never in his entire life thought of smoking while having sex but he was more than happy to agree, he took out the preroll and lighter that sat inside the drawer. He carefully lit it and brought it up to his lips, taking a long drag from it before passing it to you.

"Okay, i'm ready." He nodded his head and grabbed ahold of his cock, lining it up with your entrance. He paused to look at you for permission to continue, once you nodded your head he pushed the head of his cock in. A soft moan fell from your lips at the stretch, you brought the joint to your lips and took a hit while Spencer sheathed himself inside your cunt.

You let out a shaky breath as smoke flowed past your lips, you passed the joint back to Spencer and tightened your legs around his waist. Once Spencer found the right rhythm the room was filled with the sounds of pleasure and the smell of sex and weed, the perfect mixture to you.

"God- you're so tight around me." He moaned and leaned down to kiss you, smoke flowing from his mouth into yours. You took the joint from his fingers and put it out in the ashtray on the nightstand, Spencer gripped your hips and started to go faster and harder. Your body was so responsive, arching up into his touch, shaking from the amount of force he was using to fuck into you, your cunt was pulsing around his cock as he drove you closer to orgasm.

Spencer could hardly believe that he was actually inside of you, actually getting to fuck you like he's always imagined. His head found its way into the crook of your neck, groans leaving his mouth and hot breath hitting your skin as he laid sloppy kisses all over the area. Your nails scratched down his back, leaving red streaks that would be his reminder of this until they faded and he could only hope that you would be open to remarking him once they did.

Your legs started to loosen on his waist as Spencers cock stamped sloppy kisses on the spongey spot deep inside you, a few more thrust and you were nearly screaming out his name as your orgasm washed over you. Nothing would have prepared Spencer for the feeling of your cunt pulsing around him, tight and leaking around his cock.

He was twitching and shooting ropes of cum into you before you or him could realize, you shoved Spencers shoulder and huffed. "You were supposed to pull out."

"Sorry, I didn't even realize it was happening until it happened." He huffed out a laugh and sat up, carefully pulling out and laying down beside you. You turned over onto your stomach and rested your head on his chest, looking up at him with a love sick smile on your face.

“I think we should go again.”

Spencer smiled and flipped you over, pressing his lips to yours in a much gentler manner. You sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck. “We can go as many time as you want.”

“Wait, ” You mumbled against his lips, pulling back to look into his eyes. “I need food first, i have the munchies.”

#criminal minds #incorrect criminal minds quotes #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #sub!spencer #softdom spencer reid #spencer reid smut #stoner!spencer #spencer reid fandom #spencer x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds spencer reid

[pia-nor481]

She…What? Chapter Three

Daniel Ricciardo x reader | Lando Norris x reader Smut 18+

2.2k words

Chapter Two | Series Masterlist

She awoke to a quiet and soft knock to the hotel door and reluctantly removed the soft covers from her skin. After slipping off the bed she slowly walked towards the door, knowing who was behind it; Daniel liked to be with her in he morning, he always had. While rubbing her eyes slightly she pulled the door open. "Oh, don't pout." Daniel laughed quietly, "You know you like me." He was a bit cocky and that annoyed her at times, but she moved slightly, allowing him to enter. "But you woke me up." She whined quietly, following Daniel back towards the bed. "Are you not supposed to be preparing for the free practice?" She was right, but he chose to ignore her, as his hands made contact with her hips, pulling her up and ,on instinct, she wrapped her legs around his torso. As she kissed him passionately, all of his thoughts were plagued with her, feeling a rush of arousal shoot through his body.

"Hey, I am preparing, a good bit of fasted cardio to start my day." She laughed into his skin as soon as he started to speak. Daniel was charming in his own way, usually nerdy jokes with a bad punch line, but it always worked on her. His knees met the bed quickly, he placed her on the covers softly and made quick work of removing his clothes to climb up on the queen sized bed. She was waiting patiently for him to rest against the many pillows against the headboard. This had become a routine of theirs: before the start of a race weekend he would find a way to sneak into her room and sometimes fuck her senseless, but other times, like now, he would show her true passion and give her the softest side of himself.

She swung her leg over his, straddling him finally. Daniel's hand made contact with her jaw to pull her closer, connecting their lips once more. His other hand slid down from her waist towards her cunt, he wanted to toy with her slightly, he liked to make her beg even if he was the desperate one. Opening her mouth slightly, she let his tongue explore her mouth, he wanted to feel her everyway he possibly could and this was his favourite, it was just so intimate, so loving and it just felt perfect. The kiss was filled with urgency as his fingers began to rub her clit lightly, putting just enough pressure to make her moan into his mouth, a sound ,and a feeling, he loved. She pulled away to see him once again, a sweet smile adorned his face, she knew how much he loved hearing her voice, especially when it was laced with ecstasy. "Be good." He muttered, hands gripping her hips tight. Her only response was a quiet hum and nod as he lined his cock up with her wet cunt, pushing just the tip in very slowly, allowing her to become accustom to the full feeling. Daniel felt a tight pressure on his arm as her head fell back slowly, enjoying the feeling of her cunt stretching ever so slightly. Letting out a quite sigh, Daniel pulled her closer, letting her chest become flush with his. "I know, already feels so good." Daniel loved to talk, especially when he could talk her through it.

She raised her hips slowly before sinking down fully, taking all of his cock; gripping his arm for support, she began to lift and drop her hips at a relatively slow pace, ensuring he was as deep as possible, pulling a quiet hiss from his and the unexpectedly tight feeling. Daniel's hands rested on her ass in an attempt to control the speed of her bouncing, he liked to be in charge, no matter what. Her hands left his chest to rest behind her, gripping his thighs tightly as she began to rock her hips slowly, desperate to fell him against her g-spot. "That's it, make yourself feel good on my cock." Daniel loved when she was on top, watching her become blissed out, eyes rolled back as pleasure painted her face, all because of him. He has an ego and he knows it, he wants her and only her, he wants her to feel good, and he wants to be the one giving her that pleasure. The feeling of him was overwhelming and she could barely form a coherent sentence as he aided her movements. Daniel continued to guide her hips with one hand, the other rubbing her clit with a good pressure, heightening her pleasure. His groans became louder as he felt her cunt convulse around him. "Cum for me. That's it...so good." She couldn't resist it anymore, soaking him. The intense clenching of her cunt made pleasure corse through his whole body as if he was on cloud nine.

The room was filled with quiet breathing as she continued to see white. Daniel's hands rubbed up and down her back as her head remained buried in his neck. "So perfect." He wasn't usually one to talk in ways like this, he preferred to show his love physically, so she cherished every praise from his mouth. They kissed once again, more sweet than before, more comforting. Daniel pulled her up and carried her towards the shower, turning tap so it was a little hotter than he was used to, creating steam. They often showered together, more often than not it lead to a second round. With their bodies covered in soap, their lips connected slow and full of venerability; Daniel had always said that kissing was more intimate than sex, at first she didn't believe him, what she didn't realise was that he was not talking about kissing in general, but kissing him.

"You just can't take your hands off me." She stated as if it was a crime. "Well it's hard to resist." He said quickly, squeezing her tits, laughing as her reaction. Her gasp was loud, but not filled with distaste. "You better watch yourself." She spoke with a pointed tone, grabbing him more rough than usual, an empty threat he was used to. "Or what? You'll punish me?"

Once dried off, after Daniel complaining that he may have third degree burns, he looked through all of her clothes and pick a relatively comfortable outfit for her, and something slightly more smart for himself, deciding that the team uniform could wait. That was until he noticed the orange hoodie in the corner of the room. He assumed it was Lando's and went to grab it, thinking it would be easier for him to give it back. But as soon as the fabric touched his hands he noticed the number. 81. That was definitely not Lando's. Daniel knew he couldn't control what she did or who she was with. But this upset him, he knew Lando was there last night, but Oscar too? Oscar Piastri, the rookie that took his seat. To say Daniel was displeased would be an understatement. Understanding fully that there could be no jealousy for this to work didn't stop him, of course he was not opposed to sharing, that was clear, but her not mentioning that Oscar was there angered him. Plus Lando not mentioning his teammate yesterday made the situation much worse. Daniel was pulled out of his haze when her feet padded across the wooden floor of the room, she'd finished her usual morning routine and was waiting on him. He threw the hoodie back on the floor and turned towards her with a wide smile, trying his best to hide his feelings. "Let's get going."

They were now sat across from each other, Daniel's plate followed his strict diet the best he could, with some treats, hers filled with things she actually liked; she questioned how he even found some of it as he place the drink in front of her. "How are you feeling about the race?" She questioned quietly, not looking up from her plate. Daniel questioned if he even wanted to answer the question, he couldn't describe the emotions he was feeling, although betrayal was one of them. "Danny?" She finally looked up, meeting his face with a hint of sadness, not realising the guilt this sent through him. "Yeah, sorry.... I think it's going to be difficult, just a harder track with this car. How are you darling?" He asked in a sweeter tone. "I'm good after this morning.... I can't wait for tonight." She said in a sultry tone, flirting the best she could. "Oh really, one not enough for you?" He teased, finishing his drink quickly upon seeing the time. "You should know one is never enough."

Daniel held her hand as they walked out of the hotel, once the reached the paddock his hand left hers in favour of her lower back, guiding her through the crowd. "I want to speak with Lando, is that okay?" She asked, knowing he couldn't say no. "Of course, I'll walk you there." Daniel knew she was just being polite, yet he wanted to deny her. As soon as the reached the orange building he kissed her cheek and walked away with an almost alarming pace. She was cautious of the slippery steps as she made way into the building. After waving at a few of the mechanics she was on the hunt for Lando's driver room, following the number 4s painting the walls. She knocked a few times, waiting for a response, after a while of waiting she assumed he was away somewhere, probably preparing, as Daniel should have been. "What? FP1 doesn't start for....3 more hours." Something was wrong, she's never heard him sound so agitated before. "Lando, it's me." She hurt a rushed shuffling before the door was opened, displaying a topless Lando. "Come in." He huffed, not in an annoyed manner, but not particularly welcoming either.

"What's going on?" Her question remained unanswered as he looked for a shirt of some kind. "Lando." His name didn't leave her mouth the same way it did the day prior, now her voice was filled with concern. "I'm fine... Honestly, I just can find a few of my things. But it's okay. I don't NEED them." He muttered, tiding the small room. "Since we have a few hours until free practice, can we talk a little bit?" She almost whispered, sitting down on the bed, Lando turned to her with a small smile, and sat as close as possible without hesitation. "Yes." She laughed at his shift in tone. What shew didn't notice was the whirlwind of sensations he was feeling. His breaths were becoming shallow in anticipation, he was expecting the worse, it was an unfortunate skill he had developed over his years in formula one. "I said before that it would take a while for me to discover and therefore discuss you kinks, turn ons et cetera, and considering I've had your cock in my mouth, it might be easier for you to say." He let out a shaky laugh, releasing tension, as his lips curved upwards. "Yeah, I think that may have helped...Come here." He shifted back slightly and pulled her onto his lap, needing to be as close as possible, the hunger from before resurfacing. "Well, I like a lot of things... I love to be in control, and maybe a little bit of impact play......but I've not gone further than a few taps." He said with the upmost honesty, no longer worried about her judgment. His hands slowly raked up her spine, resting on the base of her neck, applying the smallest amount of pressure. "And some choking." He smirked, feeling her shift at the feeling. "Lando." She whined with a wide smile, enjoying his presence and his touch.

"So what about you baby? Anything you like?" He asked with a low voice, tempting her further. "I like it rough, Lando, can you do that for me?" He groaned loudly at her question, his head falling back. "Look what you're doing to me. Fuck....I'm so hard, baby." He grabbed her hips, forcing her to rock and grind hard into his lap.

"Lando."

They both stopped moving, staring at each other . Oscar was behind that door looking for his teammate. Free practice was starting soon and the rest of the team were obviously in need of Lando's presence before he got into the car. She rushed off his lap and practically hid in the corner of the room as Lando rushed to put his race suit on. "Yeah one sec." He was panicked when he realised that he actually had to open the door to leave. She chuckled lightly waiting for Lando to collect himself. Opening the door slightly he was met was an overly excited Aussie. "Come on, Zak needs you." Oscar said, looking Lando up and down as he slid the the small opening of the door. What Oscar didn't mention was the women he saw resting on his teammates bed. He was slightly confused because Lando said that he met her only a few days prior, now she was already on his bed. It was strange to say the least. Oscar knew he couldn’t ask, it wasn’t his place, but that didn’t stop his investigation.

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 x reader smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris x oc #lando norris x y/n #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #daniel ricciardo x female reader #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #danny ric

[uhohnotthisagain]

Requited Love

Summary: Sam discovers his love for you in a not so clean dream, he doesn't realise his actions following the realisation would effect you so much.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Word count: 0.8k

Warnings: slight mentions of sex, angst, pining, makeout.

My Masterlists

Sam woke up in a sweat, but this time it wasn’t a nightmare. He could still feel the way your hands felt on his skin. The way your lips felt pressed against his. The way you felt wrapped around his cock. 

Holy shit was he actually thinking about his best friend that way. He rubbed his hands over his face before he felt movement next to him. He looked over at you sleeping, sprawled out with hair all over the place. You usually slept together in the same bed when out on a hunt. 

He tried his best to climb out of bed quietly so as not to disturb you, hoping a cold shower would rid him of those insane thoughts. 

–

Later, you’re all sitting at a diner, eating dinner. As you take a bite of your burger, Sam can’t help but notice the way your lips move as you chew, oddly attracted to the way they slightly pout when you chew. He shakes his head, trying to focus on anything but you. 

–

You and Dean are in deep conversation about which Led Zeppelin song is the best, sitting on the couch in the motel room whilst Sam does some research on the hunt. It was a pretty easy hunt so not a lot of effort was needed. Sam gave himself the excuse to get distracted. 

He watched the way your hair would swing when you talked to Dean, dramatically moving your hands as you spoke to emphasise your point. His eyes travel down your body, taking note of the way his old college t-shirt looked on your body, paired with the tight-fitting leggings that donned your lower half. 

He caught himself just before he started to imagine what you would look like without the clothes on. 

–

It was just you and Sam in the motel room. Dean had gone to the local bar for a few drinks, both you and Sam opting to stay in for the night. You couldn’t help but feel a little down. You noticed a few days ago that Sam hadn’t been talking much. You didn’t take much notice until you realised he was still talking to Dean, but seemed to be avoiding you. You didn’t know what you had done, but you were starting to feel self-conscious about your actions, trying to think of what you could have done to upset him. 

Sam was still sitting at the table, hunched over his laptop. You were watching some random movie that was on TV, not watching it properly. Your mind was too occupied trying to think of ways to get Sam to forgive you.  

“Sam?” You called to him. He hummed in response. 

“Did I do something?” He turned to look at you. “What?”

“Did I do something to hurt you?” He stared at you like you had two heads. “Of course not. Why would you think that?” 

“Because in the last week, you’ve barely spoken ten words to me. If I’ve done something wrong please tell me. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me. You’re my best friend. I can’t not talk to you. I’m going crazy here.” You let out a frustrated breath after your short ramble. “I’m sorry for whatever it is I did. I’m sure it was unintentional and I won’t do it again.” Sam is looking down at his fidgeting hands, debating what to do next. “Listen, Y/N. You didn’t do anythi-” “Obviously I have! You haven’t spoken to me in a week. I’ve been putting up with Dean this entire time because you won’t talk to me. I don’t think I can handle this much longer.” Sam didn’t realise how much this was effecting you. He finally did when he noticed the tears streaming down your face. 

“Tell me what I can do to fix it.” You whispered, afraid that if you spoke any louder, it would come out in ugly sobs. 

Sam let himself debate his actions for one last second before making a decision. He took two long steps towards you before cupping your face in his hands, smashing his lips to yours. 

It took a second for you to respond, and Sam was about to pull away before you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You stayed like that until you had to pull away for air. “What was that?” You whispered. 

“I realised a week ago that I was in love with you. And I didn’t know what to do. I guess keeping my distance was the wrong way to go.” Sam whispered back. “Yeah, it was.” You respond, pulling him back down for another kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist, tapping your hip to signal for you to jump. He instantly catches you, and carries you towards the couch, sitting down with you straddling him. 

“Ew, what the fuck guys. A heads up would’ve been nice.” You hear from behind you. You turn to see Dean standing at the door, hand over his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sleeping in the Impala tonight.” He turns around and walks out without another word. 

“Should we go get him?” You ask Sam, not moving to get off of his lap. “Maybe in a few hours,” He responds, pulling you back in for another kiss. 

#sam winchester #supernatural imagines #supernatural #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #winchester #sam winchester imagines #spn

[fleurhcss]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ CHAINED UP ! Felix Imagine !

[ SMUT ]

You and your friend Felix had never argued before, he was a very sweet guy and you loved the way he treated and cared for you. Too bad something had changed that day. You had deliberately provoked him, and you were sure he understood, for his gaze was anything but the friendly and affectionate one it was every day when he was in your company. You had cuddled for a while on the couch in your house before going out to dinner together. A dinner that took a different turn than you had imagined. You had never seen Felix jealous of you in these months, in fact you had never even given him the chance to be jealous, being loyal to him and not prone to who knows what conversations with other guys. And it was this, perhaps somewhat unhealthy, idea that had prompted you to make a pass at the waiter to see what your boyfriend's reaction would be.

The response had been a bloodshot and unfriendly look at the man serving you at the table. You wanted to ease the tension, so it was not more than a few minutes before you took off your shoe and placed your foot against his intimacy, beginning to rub against the flap of his trousers. She almost choked on the piece of lettuce she was swallowing. "Y/N, what are you doing? Wasn't it enough for you to hit on the guy?" He said, clearly annoyed. But your game had only just begun. You giggled and then continued rubbing while you ate your pasta in silence. The waiter then came over to ask if everything was all right, and you had flirtatiously replied a yes, only to turn your attention to your friend, who was obviously annoyed with you. He took your foot and squeezed it between his fingers, making you moan. He suddenly blushed and put his hands to his face - "Y/N enough, you're pissing me off, I won't take responsibility for my actions if you keep this up". He told you very seriously.

Too bad you still wanted to play.

"Oops," you whispered and then brought your other foot to massage the flap of his trousers. He let go of your foot and stood up abruptly, then dragged you to the cash register so he could pay the bill and get you out of there, then grabbed you by the neck and kissed you roughly after slamming you against the wall. This was a new side of Felix for you; you had never seen him so rough and possessive of you. Perhaps the bedroom would see some good things that night.

And you weren't far wrong, because as soon as you got home he threw you on the bed, tore off your clothes and then did the same to himself. "You want to play princess, let's play then," he sneered, then pounced on your lips and bit them hungrily. He cupped your breasts in his hands and it came naturally to you to put a hand in his blond long hair and squeeze it tightly. Too bad Felix had other plans. He pulled away from you, licked his lips and then rummaged through the cupboard, pulling out chains that left you open-mouthed, not expecting him to like such things. When he approached you with an almost evil grin, you began to worry a little. He climbed astride you, towering over you, and tied your wrists to the sides of the headboard. But that was not the most surprising thing, as he also pulled out another unexpected object.

A vibrator was in your boyfriend's hands and with a grin he activated it to full power and aimed it at your clit. You had your lips half closed as you let out a cry of pleasure, having this power directed at your intimacy was not going to lead to anything good, you didn't know how long you would last in this state.

In the meantime, while you were a moaning mess, Felix began to bite your nipples, lowering himself on your breasts, teasing them to provoke you even more. He was angry and you could feel it; he couldn't bear to see you flirting with others because you were his. And no one could have you but him. His bites moved all over your body, as did the vibrator that began to make its way between your now wet walls, spreading them wide so he could enter you. And when only the tip was inside your orifice, another screaming moan left your lips. "So who is it that makes you come so much, mh? Me or that asshole waiter, Princess?" He whispered in your ear before biting down and shoving the vibrator all the way into you. Oh yes, that made you moan, clutching his forearms and screaming his name. The only one you wanted to fuck. The only one you wanted to photograph you into unconsciousness. "F-Felix! I can't resist, it's too much, I'm cumming any minute!"

But once again Felix had other plans for you.

The vibrator came out of you, denying you an orgasm as you cried out in pleasure, looking for something to rub against. "Did it seem so easy to you, princess? Argh no, now like the good whore you are you're praying for this orgasm, you're praying because you want my cock and nothing else, aren't you baby?" He giggled, squeezing your neck in a way that made you almost gasp for breath. But you liked it, you loved seeing this Felix. "Please..fuck..me," you said breathlessly, lifting your pelvis in search of contact. And with a grin, the blond man crashed inside your walls and began to fuck you at an almost inhuman speed. You had never seen him so animalistic with you and you had to admit that you liked it, a lot. Your voice was broken by moans, you couldn't say anything, you couldn't concentrate on anything but his cock going in and out of you. "My good whore took me so well, so warm, so tight, even though I fucked you with the vibrator." He moaned inside you.

But this time you were sure that the orgasm would not deny you, he began to move more intensely until he released himself inside you with a moan, continuing to move despite the fact that you had also released yourself after a long unconnected moan. But he didn't care, he wanted to continue and he was over-stimulating you. "Fucking Felix, I'm going to cum again," you whispered. And he grinned, grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders, spread your buttocks and the walls with his hands, sank into you even harder, then came again, watching his cum dripping out of you.

"Fuck, Princess, you are all mine." He whispered as he collapsed on top of you. "All mine." This made you smile, for although he had fucked you wildly up to that point, he remained the sweet boy he had always been, who had always taken care of you. He picked you up and then took you into a hot bath together, gently caring for you before changing the sheets and tucking you into bed, hugging you and covering your naked bodies in the moonlight. "That was great, Fefi." You smiled at the little nickname you liked to give him. "Definitely, but please don't hit on anyone else." He giggled and you responded with a sweet, long kiss on his lips.

જ⁀➴

a/n : hii, this was a request by an anon but I mistakenly deleted it 😭😭 so I hope that the anon will find this and like this so as you !! I'm writing things very short bc I'm actually studying for the exam session so forgive me, but im planning something bigger soooo 🤍🤍🔜

TAGLIST 🎀 : @yongbokkiesworld @gloomy-k @raindropsondragons @linocvp1d @iiamthedramaa @snowyquokka @pynchkilledme @y4kie @ihrtlix @hyunjinnnsgirl @sugarsweetsugarsweet @reader1221 @bubblebisk

#ninaswork🎀 #nina answers ˙✧˖° #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids oneshot #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #smut #felix x reader #stray kids felix #lee felix #felix smut #lee felix smut #felix #skz felix #skz scenarios #skz #felix imagines #felix x y/n #skz x y/n #skz x you #felix x you #skz fanfic #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #lee yongbok #felix yongbok

[sunflowergirl522]

Eddie My Love

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie comes over to find you singing and cooking breakfast.

Word Count: 799

Eddie’s been knocking on your front door for a while. When there’s no response after five minutes of waiting and trying he knows your parents aren’t home, again, and he assumes that you’re asleep so he fumbles around in his pockets for the spare key you had given him the last time he was locked out and climbed into your bedroom window. ‘Eddie this just won’t do, we have to get you a key’ you had said after helping him through and he’s used said key countless times. Since then he’s used the key countless times, your parents mostly being gone on business trips means that he’s basically living here. 

He’s greeted with the sound of soft music coming from the kitchen and he smiles knowing that you’re listening to the mixtape he made you. It was full of old love songs that he normally wouldn’t be caught dead listening to but he knows how much you love them. That was an interesting week and the guys gave him hell when they caught him with a Chordettes cassette but it was worth it to see the big excited smile on your face and the koala hug he received after he gave it to you.

“Eddie my love, I love you so. How I’ve wanted for you, you’ll never know.” You’re singing along to the music swaying back and forth while cooking breakfast. He leans against the doorway of the kitchen enjoying the view of you in just his Hellfire shirt and a pair of panties while he listens to you sing. 

He’ll never know how he got so lucky to have you be his. He’s constantly left speechless at the thought of it. At the fact that of all the people who had fancied you in high school you had picked him. The day that you sat next to him in the cafeteria after telling one of the basketball players off for calling Eddie a demon spawn and looked up at him going ‘you alright Eddie bear’ was the same day you officially had him wrapped around your little finger. He made sure to make a show of it each time he reminded you of that by wrapping his whole hand around your pinky.

He smiles to himself before pushing off the frame and walking up behind you wrapping his arms around you and causing you to jump in surprise.

“Keep singing Sweetheart.” He chuckles against your neck at your reaction, placing a kiss at the hollow of it.

“Eddie! You’re early! I’m not even dressed yet.” You giggle, turning in his arms and smiling up at him.

“Hm, I’m not complaining. If I didn’t love seeing you in my clothes so much I’d say you were too dressed.” You laugh again and give him a kiss that was much too short for his liking before you turn back around to turn the stove off.

“You want eggs? I made extra just in case you decided to sneak your way in here before you’re supposed to pick me up.” He was taking you out to see that new movie The Fly later. He wanted to see it because it’s supposedly a new horror film and he thinks you’ll be holding onto him the whole time but you mainly wanna go because Jeff Goldblum is hot, not that Eddie needs to know that. 

“It’s not exactly sneaking in if I have a key and a drawer of clothes now is it?” He walks over to your stereo in order to replay what has to be his favorite song to hear come from your mouth. Once it starts again he holds his hand out for you. “Dance with me?” You’re taking his hand before he can finish. 

He pulls you into his chest holding you close and relishing in the feel of you against him. Together the two of you sway around the kitchen blissfully in love with each other. The two of you keep going after the song ends and Ritchie Valens ‘We Belong Together’ starts playing.

“You’re mine and we belong together. Yes we belong together, for eternity.” Eddie sings softly in your ear causing you to gasp and move away from him slightly just to look at him.

“I thought you didn’t know any of these songs?”

“What can I say?” He leans his forehead on your own, your noses bumping into each other. “You make me want to branch out from metal.” The smile on your face at that statement could keep him feeling warm in the coldest of winters.

“I love you Eddie bear.” You nuzzle your head back into his chest.

“God I love you so much Sweetheart. I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

“You better believe it because I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

Eddie Taglist: @starbxcks

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson stranger things

[sunonyoreface]

He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 14

An: Well, it only took 36,000 words to get here, but here we are! It's a long one and I had so much fun writing this part, so I hope you like it!

*Edit: I will be putting this series on a short pause for a few weeks so I have time to catch up on school. Thanks for understanding :)

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 6100

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut, nsfw, angst, military setting, explicit language, graphic depictions of violence, use of guns.

Image credit: @ave661 (they're amazing!!)

I’ve never shot a gun before, but as I hold Ghost’s in my hand, I try to imagine what it will feel like.

The weapon is like solid lead in my hands. I weigh my options as I click the safety on and off. I feel like a broken scale and I’m indecisive at heart. Tonight is no different.

I twist the weapon around to get a better look at the black coating. It’s well taken care of. Everything Ghost does is so meticulous and thought out. So, to see him leave the cabin in such a haste is cause for concern on its own. Did my words really affect him that much? Or was that all his own doing?

Part of me wonders if he’s watching through the window. Does he think I’d risk attempting to shoot him? I could turn the gun around in my hand. He wouldn’t expect that. None of them would. But then neither of us would get what we want. I’d never see my family again. There’s no satisfaction in the thought.

I also know I couldn’t kill anyone else either. No matter the harm they’ve done. There’s already so much pain in the world. Who am I to add to it? Who am I to decide who gets to live or die? I’m no God.

Yet, I can’t help but wonder if the world would be better off without men like him.

So, I set the gun back down on the table. And then I pick it up again. I slide the magazine out and take each bullet. I slip them into my pillowcase. This is as much power as I take back tonight. Whatever Ghost does if or when he returns is all on him. I am staying as far from this game as possible. I never wanted any part. There are enough men dead because of me.

I sleep with the sound of bullets quietly rubbing and clinking against each other beneath my skull. When I feel his hand cold against my skin, I swear I see Death himself.

The ragged gasp for air feels like my first breath. My heart is racing. I feel the hot, meaty muscle as it climbs its way up my throat and suffocates me as it beats against my windpipe. Thump, thump, thump. My eyes immediately lock on the ominous shadow.

Ghost slowly retracts his hand. He smells like sweat and the outdoors. The cold scent lingers on his clothes and mixes with the smell of burning wood present in the cabin.

Moonlight filters in through the window and mixes with the warm glow of the fire. Between the two, I can just make out the watchful eyes behind the balaclava. He sits on the edge of the bed with both hands now resting on his thighs. I didn’t even feel the dip.

I sit up and pull my knees to my chest and away from him.

“How long were you there?” I don’t expect much of a response. I don’t know if I want one. Once I open this door, there are only so many places it can lead.

“A while,” Ghost’s voice is quiet and strained. He says he’s been here a while, yet his hands are still cold. Or maybe I just imagined they were cold. None of this feels real anymore, only my drumming heart demanding resolve. “Where are the bullets for my handgun?” his question catches me off guard. I didn’t think he’d notice so soon. Maybe he has been here a while? Maybe he already knows. I glance at the table to see the shadows of the weapons in the same spot as before, visibly untouched.

“I hid them,” I say without making eye contact. If I do, he’ll know for certain where they are. There’s something about him that’s almost angelic in the way he reads people. It’s utterly terrifying.

“Why?”

“I’m not sure anymore,”

“Y/n, you know I’m not going to shoot you,” It almost comes out like a question. I know, in theory at least. He can’t shoot me because he needs me, but does that mean he won’t?

Part of me knows he won’t because there are better ways to kill a person. Cleaner ways. More personal ways. They could make it look like an accident. 141 could erase me from existence - make it look like I was never born - if they haven’t already.

“Why are we doing this?” my voice is barely audible. His actions over the last day have left me feeling more confused than ever. First, he says it was all a part of his plan and now he’s saying it wasn’t. Deciphering the truth has become more frustrating than ever. 

“Could you recognize the men who did this to you?” I hear the strain in his voice again, like he’s holding back.

“I was blindfolded,”

“Their voices?”

I shake my head. “They all blend together,” A pent-up breath escapes my chest. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does,” he lowly urges. “Y/n, I need you to know what happened to you was unacceptable. That was never the plan. You were to be kept on a low dose of drugs for a limited amount of time, just enough to disorient you. What they did – those marks on your skin – should have never happened. Never,” He insists. I wrap my arms around my knees as he shifts closer. An anxious feeling creeps up the back of my neck. “I can’t punish them if I don’t know who they are.”

“I don’t want more people getting hurt because of me,” I finally look at him. He leans toward me with one hand resting on the bed. There’s a nervousness in the air. 

“Not because of you. Actions have consequences,” he says. “Their behaviour will be corrected.”

“Please don’t,” I quietly beg as I shift onto my knees. I take a risk and gingerly grab onto his forearm. “It’s not worth it,” I’m livid it happened in the first place, but their punishment is just spreading the pain around in my name. I don’t want that. I want it to end.

“If I don’t, it’ll happen again,” Ghost says as he looks down at my hand. His words are resolute. There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach. His strong arm is tense under the henley, but I don’t pull away.

“What about the man behind this one?” I reach to pull my shirt over my shoulder. His soulful eyes latch onto the bruised skin. Ghost’s chest heaves with a deep sigh. He knew this was coming.

“He needs more than just correction,” Ghost’s eyes are glued to the marks.

“Like what?” I risk the question. It’d be so easy for him to shut me out. To turn around and leave. But I need to know. What kind of a person is he? How does he perceive his own cruelty? I silently pray he stays. 

“Only Hell can help him,” Simon finally looks up. His eyes are filled to the brim with so many emotions, they’re hard to discern. But what stands out the most is how much pain is evident behind that mask.

“I don’t believe that,” I grip his arm tighter. Part of me is afraid of his answer. I don’t know the truth behind his words. I only have a small idea of the violence he’s capable of. I’ve only glanced through a crack in the window of pain he’s caused and even that was significant.

“You don’t know half the things I’ve done, y/n,” his hands tighten into fists. 

“I’ve cut, burned, fucking butchered people without a second thought. I kill men. It brings me so much pleasure to watch those animals die, y/n. I’m not someone who can live without violence,” Ghost starts to tremor. ”There are only so many places for a man like me.”

I shake my head. “I don’t…I don-”

“Believe it,” Ghost cuts me off. “Look at what I did to you,” he moves closer as his other hand reaches up to my exposed arm. Ghost’s fingers lightly trace the bruises. His hands are hot, different from how I remembered them moments ago. There’s a warmth to him, even if he refuses to acknowledge it. Part of me wants to make excuses for him: that it was the heat of the moment, or because I knowingly withheld information that put us all at risk. That doesn’t make it okay. None of this is okay. My moral lines have become so blurred within the last several weeks, it’s hard to know when they’ve been crossed.

I don’t know what to say to him. I focus on the feeling of his gentle fingers on my arm.

“It was the only thing that fixed my father,” His voice deepens. I’m not prepared for where this conversation is about to go. I feel my heart racing in my chest, ready to break free. “I used to hate him for the things he did, how he’d hurt my brother and mum. Fuck, would he hurt her. He hated her and took every ounce of hate out on that woman. He left her beaten and bruised for years,” Ghost wraps his hand around my arm, under the dark bruise. “And look at me now. Look what I’ve done to you. You don’t deserve this.”

My throat tightens and I feel tears prick at my eyes. I tilt my head back and force them down. I feel his careful gaze follow down my neck, across my collarbones, then land on the damning marks above his fingers.

“You’re better than he is, Simon,” it’s barely a whisper.

“You don’t know me,” Ghost’s voice cracks.

“Maybe not. But you’re here right now. And that tells me all I need to know,” our eyes lock together. I see the distress behind his mask. How he so badly wants to believe me. “Simon, I forgive you.”

“You shouldn’t. You don’t know how this ends, y/n,” he murmurs. I shift closer to him again so that our legs rest against each other. His breathing deepens at our proximity. His hand leaves my arm to wrap around a strand of hair. He examines it quietly, his thumb slowly tracing the length.

I feel the heat and tension radiating from his body, yet find myself strangely at ease in his presence. He cares. He won’t dare say it, but I can feel it in his gentle touches, the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention. He had my back when his men were making crude jokes in the van. I think of his concern for me when we were at the last safehouse and I didn’t have shoes. How he lingered to make sure I was okay. How he gave me an extra blanket and touched my shoulders when everyone else was sleeping. I remember when he immediately noticed something was off after the prisoner confronted me. The first thing he did was make sure I was okay. He’s always cared.

My heart still races, but not because I’m scared. My fear has morphed into a more dangerous emotion. One I can’t say out loud. One that would put both of our lives in danger.

When I look into his dark eyes, I see them mirroring my own. Shadowy pools of desire lap at his irises.

“Y/n,” he warns as I look up at him. His eyes flicker down to my bottom lip brawn between my teeth.

“Can I lift your mask?” his head starts to shake even before I’ve finished speaking. “Just a little,” my voice is barely audible. The warm glow of the fire bounces off the walls. Ghost is tinted red. He tilts his head down, searching my eyes. Part of him is still reluctant to trust me. There have been so many people in his life who’ve betrayed him, who’s to say I won’t do the same?

“Ok,” he whispers, dropping the strand of hair.

My hands meet the hem of the balaclava, resting just above his sternum. I slowly roll the fabric up, leaving time for him to stop me. This is the first time he’s ever allowed another person to do this. I feel his vulnerability with each shaky breath. The backs of my fingers trace along his neck as I move the fabric. The scruff that lines his neck and jaw brush against my hands. His adam’s apple bobs as he forces down a nervous swallow. “Just a little more.”

I move the mask just above his jaw. Like the rest of him, it’s sharp and strong. Dark hairs fill in the space after missing his daily shave. Ghost’s hands move to my outer thighs and his thumbs rub along my skin with a reassuring pressure. I bring the mask over his lips and rest the excess material over his nose. Ghost presses his full, slightly chapped lips together as he watches my eyes roam his face.

Part of me wonders why hasn’t he stopped me. Does he yearn for the same type of connection? Does he think about me in the dead of night with wandering hands? Is this something we’ll use against each other in the future? Will there be a future? All of this is a bad idea. But I can’t help the longing. The yearning. How badly I want to feel his hands on my bare skin. Tangled in my hair. Reaching the darkest parts of me.

When I look up, his eyes are so incredibly intense, it’s impossible to look away. A large hand cups my cheek and wraps around the back of my head. Neither of us dares to move any further. We stay frozen in a state of almost vulnerability. It’s not too late to turn back.

It’s hard to see where his irises end and pupils begin, they’re so dark. His eyes hold every word he’s too afraid to say. Words are dangerous. They confirm every want and desire. I’m no braver than he is, not by a mile. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying something I’ll regret.

Ghost leans down and rests his masked forehead against mine. The soft fabric presses into my face. His nose tenderly brushes against my own.

“Y/n,” he murmurs as his thumb tenderly traces along my skin. “You have no idea the things you do to me,” I feel goosebumps run down my back at his low, sultry voice. Simon’s cool breath fans against the nape of my neck.

The air between us is charged with tension. I feel a heat start to burn low in my stomach.

Ghost doesn’t move any closer. He has aired his desires. Now it’s my turn. How far do I want this to go? How far am I willing to take it? Nothing happens unless I initiate.

I run my hand along his strong jaw as I lean forward. I hesitantly brush against his lips, providing one last opportunity for us to turn back. Simon ghosts his lips above my own. My muscles tense in anticipation and my breathing is fast and shallow. I loop a finger through his belt loop and pull him closer. 

Ghost takes this as permission and gently presses his lips onto mine. The kiss is soft and fearful and longing. After a breath, I pull away ever so slightly to read his eyes. They open slowly and linger on my lips for a moment longer. Ghost swallows thickly before looking up. There’s an insatiable hunger swimming in those dark pools of desire.

I long for those hot August days spent on the poolside almost as much as I long for him to drag me under the surface. I feel Ghost’s calloused hands moving up the side of my body like waves. Shivers run along my spine. My senses feel heightened. My lungs burn as icy water floods every cavity. I want him to hold me under until every breath of air is stolen from my lips.

Ghost shifts onto his knees and slowly stalks above me. His moves are calculated and predatory. There is only one thing he is on the hunt for. Only one thing that can fully satisfy his appetite.

I lean back as he moves closer until I’m fully pressed against the bed. Ghost leans down on his elbows as his knee urges my legs apart. A dull pulse throbs in my lower stomach. A large hand brushes the hair out of my face as he leans closer.

The kiss is harder this time, needier. Simon’s breath is hot against my mouth. My lungs smoulder with each breath, threatening to burst into flames. I run my hand under the back of his mask into his hair. I want more of him.

“Sweetheart,” my heart skips at the name. “How far can I take this?” his hands cup the side of my face. There’s a different type of seriousness in his eyes that I haven’t seen before.

“All the way,” I watch as he licks his lips in anticipation. “I want all of you.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I have to be gentle with you,” but I don’t want him to be gentle. I want every pent-up emotion branded into my skin with an iron rod. He’s held back so much from me. I want everything out in the open.

“All of you,” I repeat, brushing my thumb against his jaw.

“Y/n,” he warns as his lips brush against my ear. There’s an exciting sharpness to his tone.

“Don’t hide from me,” I whisper.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he holds his head up to search my face. There’s genuine fear behind his eyes, but as they flicker down at my lips again there’s an even stronger desire. Once he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop. Every part of his life is so disciplined, that once he relinquishes control, all self-restraint is gone.

“I trust you,” I trace my thumb above his full lips, pausing in the center. His brows furrow, waiting for me to take my words back, change my mind, tell him I don’t mean it. But I do. “I trust you, Simon.”

He uses the last of his restraint to search my eyes one last time. There’s no uncertainty, no fear or hesitancy. I want all of him. Need all of him. Desire burns within my core and he is the only one who can satisfy it. 

His lips are hot and fervorous. Ghost’s eager fingertips drag across my pliable flesh as his hands skim under the hem of my shirt. I want to feel his touch everywhere, my lips, my neck, arms, and chest. I need him everywhere. I want to be consumed by him.

His sweet tongue slips between my lips. It’s a natural motion I welcome with my own. He’s gentle at first, cautious even. But then the hunger grabs a hold of him. His teeth latch onto my bottom lip and pull. Dark eyes test the waters as he gauges my reaction. How far can he really go? A small gasp escapes my chest and I almost miss the corner of his mouth twitching into a devious grin. 

“When I tell you to do something, say yes sir,” his husky voice whispers into my ear as a large hand lightly wraps around my throat.

“Okay,” I respond. He’s not the only one testing the waters. I feel the strong hand tighten ever so slightly. I can’t help a sly smile at his reaction. “Yes sir,” the words noticeably arouse him. Ghost draws in a deep breath as he drags his bottom lip between his teeth. I think of all the times I offhandedly called him that the last several weeks. I wish I knew what a hold it had on him. “Is that better, sir?” I tease.

“You’re trouble,” his tone is suggestive. I love the feeling of his hot breath hitting my neck. I want to feel it drift even lower.

Ghost’s hands are back at the hem of my shirt. He gently tugs at the fabric and I take the signal to sit up and slide it off. I toss it to the side as his eyes take in my figure. I notice how they falter on some of the larger bruises, but in another instant, they’re back on me.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he murmurs.

His rough hands travel up my torso - taking care to avoid the bruised areas - as his lips find my neck. He starts off slow, deeply kissing me behind the ear, before moving towards the nape as he begins to suck on my tender skin. One hand begins to tenderly massage my breasts. I feel my eyes flutter shut with pleasure, but then a small part of me remembers I don’t want marks left above the hem of my shirt, especially these kinds of marks.

“Your turn,” I tug on the bottom of his henley.

“That’s not how you ask,” he mumbles as his teeth rake against my skin.

“Please, sir?” he thoughtfully hums against my neck.

Ghost sits up as he straddles me to pull his shirt off with one hand. My breathing hitches. He is stunning. Years of relentless work have shaped him into the machine he is today. Ghost is built like a predator. Strong, sturdy, and sharp. Scars from past challengers and victims litter his chest like medals. His tattoo wraps around the entire length of his arm, around his shoulder, and spanning across half his chest. I’m left speechless as he leans down to meet me again.

My hands unapologetically travel across his vast chest. His muscles flex under the pads of my fingers and I’m reminded of just how strong he is. But I don’t get far, Ghost grabs both wrists with one hand and pins them above my head. He enjoys looking down at me, completely under his power. There’s something about our size difference that is thrilling. He is in complete control. He can do whatever he wants.

Ghost’s lips return where they left off, slowly moving down my delicate body. Past my neck, down my sternum, and right to the spot he is looking forward to the most. His other hand wraps around my back, finding the clasp to my bra. His eyes peer up through his mask, looking to me for permission to keep going. I give him a small nod and immediately I feel the release of the band. He slides the bra up my arms, letting go of my wrists only to free us of it once and for all before grabbing them again. Ghost’s other hand returns to my back, urging me to arch my chest to his lips.

Sharp teeth nip at my soft breasts between deep kisses that are certain to leave more bruises. Ghost adds more pressure to my back as he pushes me closer. He takes his tantalizing time teasing me with his tongue as it swirls around my nipple before the abrupt feeling of his teeth pulling on my skin takes over. I can’t help the gasp that escapes my lips. I press my lips together to hide my heavy breathing, but it doesn’t get past him.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” he tastes the tender skin. “No one around for miles.”

Both his hands wrap around my waist as he pulls me flush against his chest. I take the opportunity to run a hand along the waistband of his pants, slipping a finger just under the edge of the fabric. Ghost pauses as his chest heaves from the movement. I grab his jaw and guide his lips to mine again, mimicking his previous movements by tugging on his lower lip with my teeth. I can’t help the growing smile on my face.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart,” his hand trails down my stomach, slipping between my pants and underwear. Two thick fingers circle around me above the thin piece of fabric with growing pressure. My head sinks back into the pillow as my breathing becomes more jagged. Sparks fill my vision from the intense pressure. 

“Oh fuck,” I whimper from his touch. His eyes are intent on my face as they watch the pleasure wash over me.

“That’s a good girl,” he says eagerly. “Wet for me already?”

My thoughts are too twisted to come up with a smart response. I press harder against him for more traction. If only he knew how much I’ve thought about his hands and all the things his fingers can do.

While slipping a hand under the fabric, he leans down letting his lips press against my neck. Our bare chests brush against each other and his other hand winds through my hair. Ghost fists the strands against the back of my head and slowly pulls back, further exposing my neck for better access. I feel the edge of his teeth take my tender flesh between them. I imagine the marks that will litter down my neck leading across my chest.

A thick finger slips into me while his thumb focuses on my clit. The feeling is so intense I can’t help the moans escaping from deep within my throat. Ghost pulls harder on my hair. A deep chuckle reverberates through his chest. He’s enjoying this. 

I wrap a hand around his belt, pushing the leather through the loop, ready to pull it off, but then a large hand clasps over mine.

“So soon?” Ghost teases. The intense pressure of his other hand leaves between my legs as he slides his belt off. The buckle jingles as he twists the leather into itself. When I look down, I realize what he’s created.

There are two spaces for a set of hands to slide through while the belt acts as a pair of handcuffs.

“Simon,” his name is breathy on my tongue.

“Arms up,” he orders.

I raise my hands above my head and feel the leather restraints slip over my fists. “Not tight,” I tell him. His eyes glance down at me and he seems to understand. He pulls the leather band, leaving just enough space that I could escape if I really needed to, before looping the leather back through the buckle.

“Okay?” he whispers and I nod my head in response. “Atta girl,” the side of his mouth quirks up.

I watch Simon trail his thoughtful lips down my torso. He pauses at each bruise, pressing a tender kiss lightly on top of each one. Butterflies swarm inside my stomach. I never thought I’d see such a man be so gentle.

Simon’s thumbs rub in circles over the corner of my hips as he makes his way even lower. There’s a growing anticipation between my legs as I wrap one around his back, pulling him closer.

The black mask lowers between my legs. Swollen lips kiss the inside of my thighs. The edge of his teeth grazes the tender flesh. I draw in a sharp gasp as he bites down. Hard. A full pain throbs along my inner thighs. His previous gentleness slips away. This will leave a bruise lasting for days.

“These are the only marks I want to see on your skin,” his passionate eyes look up from between my legs. The black balaclava covers the rest of his face aside from his lips. How I’d love to run my hands through his hair.

Simon’s arms wrap around my legs to hold me down by my hips. I grasp the belt with whitened knuckles as he moves up, leaving another mark, but not before pressing an apologetic kiss to the area. Small whimpers escape my tight throat as he switches legs and leaves a growing trail of marks closer and closer to the hem of my underwear. I want him to make me feel good again.

“Please Simon,” I feel his lips humorously twitch against my skin.

He pulls away and all of his delicious warmth leaves with him. Simon rests on his knees, his eyes hungrily taking in the sight before him. All I can think about is the heat of his hands as they travel over my skin. Fuck, I need him. I need him everywhere. In the darkest parts of my body and soul.

A rough thumb traces over my lips. “You still want this?” there’s doubt in his voice, like he’s expecting me to change my mind.

“So, fucking bad,” my lips move against his thumb. I take him in my mouth, swirling my tongue around the thick digit, lightly starting to suck on him.

“Fuck, y/n,” he mutters under his breath. His other hand slides beneath his jeans as I press my mouth further down on his thumb. But I don’t let him relish in the feeling.

“I need you, Simon,” I murmur. “Please, sir,” my voice is breathy and desperate.

I can feel the need pooling between my thighs. I ache for his touch.

His hands light my skin on fire as he slips my underwear off, pulling them down my legs. Simon wastes no time stepping out of his jeans, his large erection straining against his boxers.

“Of all thing things I’ve wanted to do to you,” he cups himself over the fabric. I wait for him to expand on his thoughts, but he doesn’t, simply leaving them to hang in the thick air.

Simon grasps himself over his boxes, slowly stroking as he watches me. My eyes never leave his. I feel the growing heat of the fire burning within me. With every stroke, he stokes the flames.

He leans down, lips hovering above mine. One hand gently holds my cheek while the other wraps around his tip. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he breathes into my mouth before tenderly meeting my lips. A small vein of nervousness is present at the back of my mind, but I channel all of my attention into my growing desire.

Simon adjusts his position as the boxers slide down. The anticipation is too much. He bites his bottom lip as the head of his cock traces my entrance. My heart is pounding. My hands grasp at the belt.

“Relax,” he glances up at me. “You’re tense.”

A gentle hand massages my inner thighs along the bite marks he left. The length of his shaft glides across my clit, sending tingles up my spine.

“Simon-”

“Look at me y/n. I want to see your face when I stretch you out,” my breathing falters at his words. I dare to look him in the eyes just as he pushes in for the first time. Fucking hell.  The feeling is completely unmatched. My breathing is heavy. Simon’s thumbs rub reassuring circles along my inner thighs to ease the sensation between my legs.

“Oh God,” I whimper, tensing around his thick tip. His eyes hungrily watch my expression, burning it to memory. The amount of pleasure he gets from watching is almost equal to that of participating. Simon’s fingers circle my clit with a heavy pressure. I feel the throbbing intensify as he begins to push deeper. I hold back a whimper as he pushes deeper, stretching my tight walls around him.

“Fuck, y/n,” he growls. “You’re doing so good.”

Simon gently moves back before thrusting further in. My walls pulse around his thick cock as he picks up pace. My legs are wrapped around his broad back. One of his hands roughly kneads a breast as he bows his head into the nape of my neck. The metal dog tags hanging around his throat swing in the space between us, bouncing against my skin.

Simon’s breath is hot as it travels down my neck and across my chest. With every clench around him, I’m rewarded with soft needy moans into my ear as he nips at my lobes.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” his breathy voice rumbles against my neck. I feel the tightness in my stomach begin to build as he thrusts harder and his hands press into my clit. The world around me blurs. I’ve never been fucked this hard before. He feels so damn good; it’s like he was made just for me.

His hand drags across my breast, up to my neck as he wraps his strong fingers around the vulnerable area. I should’ve known he wants complete control. For so long he had none, now it rules every aspect of his life.

“You take me so well, y/n,” my name drips sweetly off his tongue like honey. I want to hear him say it over and over again. y/n. y/n. y/n. Fuck, does that sound good.

Every muscle in my body begins to tighten. My breathing quickens. My heart is racing. Every sense feels incredibly heightened. A lucid feeling begins to take over as Ghost’s grip around my throat tightens.

“Don’t go quiet on me now,” his hand moves to my jaw.

“I’m close,” I gasp as the blood rushes back to my face. My cheeks feel hot under his intense gaze. “Simon I-” his name rolls off my tongue, but I lose track of my thoughts. With every thrust, I feel him deeper in my soul. All of the pain. All of the tortures of our diverged pasts are melding together. Right now, I have all of him.

Simon keeps his pace but thrusts his throbbing cock even harder. The sound of skin hitting skin overtakes the crackling fire. The heat is almost too much. Like a flame under a tank of propane. Pressure builds under the heat, ready to combust.

“I, I-” fuck, I can’t think. It’s too much. His hands are tightly woven into my skin. My fingers are white against the leather. My heartbeat is so damn loud. My face twists towards the covers as my body writhes under his touch.

“Don’t look away now sweetheart,” his voice is so incredibly thick with need. “I’ll stop if you look away,”

His dark eyes are a whirlpool pulling me in. Suddenly I forget how to swim. Simon drags me under as his thick fingers wrap around the sensitive bundle of nerves. I gasp as my lungs breathe in water. His lips are heavy against my own. My vision darkens and no other pleasure in the world can match the burning sensations coursing through my veins. My orgasm is the sun’s light from the bottom of the ocean.

I break the surface as Simon’s hot lips hastily press against my forehead. His movements quicken and his grunts deepen. His hands roughly grab onto my waist as he thrusts into me with uneven, jarring movements.

“Fuck, Simon,” the whimper is soft against his skin and the cause of his undoing. His hard cock throbs against my walls once more as he collapses against me from pleasure and exhaustion. Simon’s heavy body lays limp on top of mine. The weight is comforting and safe. No one else in the world can touch me. Only him.

Simon reaches up to undo the belt and free my hands which find their way to his broad back. I trace invisible pictures across the vast space, skimming across old scars and the edge of his tattoo. His hand gently runs down the length of my hair, petting the top of my head. I feel my eyes begin to droop as sleep creeps up from behind me. I want him to hold me forever.

He pushes himself up on his elbows, arms caging me in as his dark eyes peer down at me. The emotions behind Simon’s eyes are too conflicted to decipher. A cautious thumb brushes along the side of my face. For a moment, he simply stares at me, trying to memorize everything that’s just happened and the gravity of it.

“Y/n, I need you to listen very closely,” he murmurs, pulling the balaclava back over his jaw. I feel my brows furrow as a different type of tension takes over.

“Okay,” my voice is barely audible.

“No one can ever know about this,” Ghost’s tone is soft, but I don’t miss the significance that is present. I pause to think about his words. Really think about them. What are the consequences of what we’ve just done? Our actions have just irreversibly complicated 141’s entire mission. Possibly even damaged it.

“What happens if they find out?”

Simon doesn’t respond. I feel a growing, hollow, cavity within me as I consider what happens to the people who interfere with their missions.

This was a mistake. A consequential mistake.

Pt 15:

#cod ghost imagine #cod imagine #cod ghost #cod #mw2 fanfic #mw2 imagine #call of duty mwii #mw2 #ghost mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #simon riley angst #ghost imagine #ghost x reader #he knows

[onabat11e]

i’m yours (lucy bronze x ona batlle)

rating: E for explicit (18+)

warnings: smut, top!ona, bottom!lucy, fingering, cunnilingus

summary: ona finds it fun to wear lucy’s barça jersey. lucy finds it fun to be claimed by ona.

based on this request!

dedicated to @barcaxona for giving me inspo c;

word count: 2.5k

AO3 Link

The door to the bedroom clicked open when Ona walked in sporting a Barça jersey, the shirt fitting slightly oversized. She was wearing a pair of gym shorts, just long enough to be peeking out from the bottom of the jersey. 

Ona was busy reaching up to slide a book back into its place on the top shelf, allowing Lucy’s eyes to skim her body. Suddenly, whatever was on Lucy’s phone was not even the slightest bit interesting because she noticed that it wasn’t just any jersey that Ona was wearing, but her jersey. 

Adventurous eyes continued down Ona’s body and lingered for half a second when Lucy noticed the shirt lifting where Ona was reaching. 

“Mmm, that looks good on you, babe,” Lucy’s eyes fixated on the curve of Ona’s ass sticking out from under the jersey as well as the thickness of her muscular thighs. 

“Yeah, you think so?” Ona smiles, looking over her shoulder at where Lucy was relaxing on the bed. She noticed how Lucy glued her eyes to the lower half of her body, checking her out. 

“Letting everyone know that you’re mine,” Lucy returned her eyes to Ona’s face, a half-smile played on her lips. Ona laughed under her breath and mirrored the expression. 

Lucy and Ona had been hiding their relationship for a while before they decided to turn to a ‘private, but not secret’ approach. It made things easier for the lovebirds, the two unable to keep their eyes off one another, even when the cameras were around. 

“Mmm, I’m yours,” Ona hummed as she turned around to face the bed and swayed her hips as she walked towards Lucy. “And you’re mine,” her voice darkened at the last word. 

Now aware of her heartbeat, Lucy felt a thumping in her chest as she got stared down. Although Lucy had a good few inches of height on Ona, that didn’t matter in the bedroom; Ona could make her feel small - make Lucy feel like her prey. 

“And now it’s my time to claim you,” Ona’s voice dropped, her eyes deepening with lust. Lucy felt a wave of desire spread over her body at Ona’s words. She loved it when Ona took control.

Lucy Bronze was known for being a dominant player, never afraid to throw herself (figuratively and literally) into a match, a ball, or a whole other player. The truth was, with the amount of control she had to exercise in her career - the last thing she wanted was to carry that responsibility into her personal life. 

Regarding the bedroom, Lucy loved nothing more than to give up any control and surrender to her partner’s needs and desires. She couldn’t blame anyone for thinking she would be the opposite, but she was a self-proclaimed pillow princess. 

“Please,” Lucy’s voice was barely above a whisper, Ona’s intense eye contact making her body feel weak. Never taking her eyes off Lucy, Ona climbed onto the bed and lay on her side. She propped herself on one elbow and craned her head down, letting warm breath hit Lucy’s neck. 

“Shh, let me take care of you, baby,” Ona whispered into Lucy’s ear, goosebumps pricking up at the softness of her voice. 

Ona placed one hand on either side of Lucy’s head before leaning in to meet Lucy’s lips. Both women were hungrily trying to deepen their kisses, submitting to each other without a fight. Keen tongues curled together, their moans harmonising as they explored each other's mouths. 

Ona brought a hand to cup Lucy’s face, the pad of her thumb stroking across a sharp jawline before sliding to rest around her neck. The devious hand dipped further to grab Lucy’s chest over her clothing, causing her back to arch into the touch. 

Ona pulls away from the kiss, her teeth tugging on Lucy’s bottom lip as she does so. The two girls pant slightly, and the intensity of their making out is evident on both faces.

“Need this off,” Ona pulled at the hem of Lucy’s t-shirt once more, “Need to see my beautiful girl.” Lucy shyly blushes at the compliment and lets Ona tug the t-shirt over her head, leaving her in her sports bra and sweatpants. 

“You are incredible,” Ona gushes over Lucy’s toned body, a hand resting on Lucy’s collarbone as she leans in to kiss her neck. 

Ona goes to hook her fingers under the Barça jersey to take it off, wanting to match Lucy’s level of undress. Her hands only move a few inches before a voice interrupts the action. 

“Keep it on,” Lucy requested, trying to school her expression into confidence as she reached out to stop Ona’s hands. Seeing that Ona was proud to be hers lit a fire in the pit of her stomach. 

Ona smugly agreed, the corner of her mouth twitching up as her hands dropped the material to return to Lucy’s chest. Her hand slipped under the bottom of Lucy’s sports bra, eagerly pulling the material over her head. 

Whether it be from the temperature change or the stimulation, Lucy’s nipples were now hard and begging for attention. Ona moved to cup over the newly exposed flesh, letting her palms graze over the tips of Lucy’s nipples. 

A muscle in Ona’s jaw feathers as she smirks, her head dipping towards Lucy’s chest. Their eyes locked onto each other as Ona licked her lips and made a show of licking around a nipple.

Staggered breaths echo in the room, Lucy’s body pushing up into the feeling of Ona’s mouth on her. Lucy tried to stifle her moans as Ona pulled away, her teeth tugging on the sensitive tissue.

Ona kissed across Lucy’s chest before taking a patch of skin between her lips, increasing the suction against the skin for a few seconds and then soothing it with slow, flat licks. Ona admired the quickly reddening skin before she repeated the action. 

Ona and Lucy’s favourite thing was to leave marks on one another that only they'd know about, a secret message for only them: ‘I’m yours; you’re mine’. The most common area of choice was each other's chests, close enough to the nipple that they’d always be covered. 

Soft fingers stroked down Lucy’s abs, the muscles tightening under the touch of Ona’s hands. Before Lucy knew it, Ona was tugging her sweatpants down, her body subconsciously lifting from the bed to help Ona remove them.

“My baby is so needy for me, huh?” Ona cups a hand over Lucy’s underwear, feeling the warmth of her arousal through the material. Hips thrust up, trying to grind against anything. 

“I need you,” Lucy begged, her voice weakening at the pressure of Ona looking at her. Lucy’s pelvis chased after the touch of Ona’s hand, desperate for more. Desperate for her. 

“I’m right here,” Ona knew what Lucy meant, but she wanted to hear the words, needed to hear Lucy beg to be fucked. 

“Please, baby,” Lucy’s voice cracked as Ona’s hands played with the waistband of her underwear. Ona raised an eyebrow, the smirk playing at the side of her mouth again. 

That damn smirk will be the death of Lucy, she thinks.  

“Be more specific,” Ona pulls her hand away from Lucy, causing a frustrated whine and a release of air to leave her mouth. Lucy clenched her jaw and took a deep breath through her nose to compose herself before forcing the words out of herself. 

“Just touch me,” Lucy says in almost a whisper, too busy thinking about the intensity of the throbbing between her legs and how much she needed Ona to do something about it. 

“Good girl,” Ona let her hand go under the waistband to run a finger through the pooling wetness, causing Lucy’s head to fall back against the pillow. And, God, she was already embarrassingly worked up from Ona’s voice, Ona’s words, Ona’s expressions. Everything Ona. 

Ona takes pride in breaking down the tough exterior Lucy puts on, using her hands to make the older woman whine and beg for more, using her hands to make the woman entirely fall apart under her touch. 

“I wanna watch you as you cum on my fingers. Think you can do that for me?” She spoke down to Lucy. And maybe it’s the eye contact. Maybe it’s from the low pitch of Ona’s voice. But Lucy doesn’t think she could muster an answer if she tried. 

The slight movement of Lucy’s nod, bottom lip between her teeth, is enough for Ona. Ona doesn’t even bother to pull down Lucy’s underwear properly, her hand tucked between Lucy and the fabric.

Fingers rub up and down Lucy’s heat before they target her clit with teasingly slow circles. Ona loved to watch Lucy’s body come alive under her touch. All the small details: her burrowed eyebrow, jaw going slack, eyes rolling back. She loved to see and hear how she made Lucy feel. 

Lucy’s neck and shoulder are covered in warm kisses as Ona continues to rub at her clit, taking small breaks to dip into her entrance and collect slick heat on her fingertips. 

“Your pussy is so wet for me, isn’t it, baby?” Lucy turns her head into the pillow, a red blush burning her cheeks. “So needy to get fucked like the good girl you are.”

A finger gets pushed in, and Ona can feel the low vibration in Lucy’s chest as she groans at the new sensation. Ona continued to push in further, her fingertips pushing against Lucy’s soft spot and pressing into it. 

“You look so hot right now, taking my fingers,” Ona’s lips brush against Lucy’s neck, her body shuddering from the gentle contact.  

Another finger slipped into Lucy, and the stretch of her quivering pussy around them drove Ona crazy, increasing the speed of her arm pushing into Lucy. Ona whispered sweet nothings into Lucy’s ear as she continued the unrelenting motions of fucking Lucy. 

“Fuuuuuck,” Lucy groaned, body jerking into the tempo of Ona’s fingers. The coil in her stomach impossibly tightened further as Ona mumbled Spanish against her neck. Moans got choked out, and Lucy didn’t know if she could hold back much longer. 

Lucy’s orgasm hits her hard, Ona’s teeth scraping the sensitive skin of her neck as she falls apart, cumming around Ona’s fingers. Ona curls her fingers faster in Lucy’s pulsating wetness, pushing her through her orgasm. 

Once Lucy had come down from her high, Ona removed her fingers slowly and pulled her hand up to her lips. 

Lucy could barely hold in the whine when Ona licked the two fingers before sucking them into her mouth to clean off Lucy’s wetness. Ona nearly growled at the taste of Lucy on her fingers, a desire to primally devour Lucy kicking in. 

“God, you’re addictive,” she said after pulling the digits from her mouth. “I think I need another taste,” Ona kisses Lucy's décolletage again, moving past her breasts and abdomen. As much as Ona wanted to take her time and worship every inch of Lucy’s body, she needed to taste her. 

Ona positioned herself between Lucy’s legs, parting them and bending them at the knee. Warm brown eyes looked up through eyelashes to meet Lucy’s stare, her nimble fingers finding their place around Lucy’s underwear. 

Lucy’s pussy was glistening with need - it might just be the most beautiful thing Ona had ever seen. Lucy’s arousal was begging to be consumed, begging to be taken by Ona. 

Using the spare hair tie on her wrist, Ona threw her hair up into a bun, stray hairs poking out. Desire and need filled Lucy’s eyes, her body coming alive under Ona’s gaze. Ona kissed over Lucy’s thighs, her path leading up to where Lucy’s cum was still shining on her inner thighs. 

“Please, I’m still sensitive,” Lucy almost begs, feeling Ona’s lips placing lingering kisses leading closer and closer to her core. 

“Shh, don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” Ona winks, kissing Lucy's body and nipping at the delicate skin. She licks at Lucy’s inner thigh before leaving another cleverly hidden mark mere inches from where Lucy was aching for Ona’s mouth. 

“Ready?” The breath from Ona’s words against Lucy’s sensitive cunt made her twitch and ache for Ona’s mouth on her. Lucy’s hand reached down for Ona, intertwining their fingers. Another whine and a nod from Lucy gave Ona the go-ahead. 

Lucy’s body jolts as Ona’s mouth makes contact with her. Her tongue is coated in Lucy’s arousal as she licks up her folds, taking in everything that Lucy is giving to her. 

It could almost be too much, Lucy thinks. Ona’s mouth lightly suctioned onto her whilst her tongue circled her clit. 

Lucy looks down to see Ona between her legs, her head dipped, back arched with her hips in the air. Lucy could see her name, ‘Bronze 15’, written across Ona’s back. She almost prematurely falls apart again right there just from the sight of it. Just from thinking about how Ona is hers and how Ona’s hot mouth is absolutely devouring her pussy right now. 

The grip Lucy had on Ona’s hand tightened - Ona could tell that Lucy was getting close again. Ona placed her other hand flat onto Lucy’s lower abdomen, applying a weight to pin her down to the bed and stop her hips from rocking up.

Ona keeps playing with Lucy’s clit, making quick darts to her entrance to lap up Lucy’s arousal as her core tightens and twitches from Ona’s tongue. 

“Please, baby. I’m so close,” Lucy whined, hips trying to drive against the weight of Ona holding her down. The action just caused Ona to double down, lips sucking on Lucy’s clit once more, her tongue licking wildly across it as she worked to push Lucy into her next orgasm. 

Toes curled, thighs tensed, and breaths shuddered as the pleasure took over Lucy’s body. Between Lucy’s teeth were her fingers, the moan getting choked back as Ona continued to lick at her. Ona messily lapped up Lucy’s cum, letting out breathy laughs as Lucy twitched through the aftershocks. 

Laughs got mixed with whines as Lucy pushed Ona’s head away, not being able to withstand the overstimulation of Ona teasing her with more touches. 

Ona gives in and stops playing with Lucy, sitting back on her heels between Lucy’s legs. Lucy is an absolute vision. Beads of sweat scattered her forehead, the constellation of red marks around her nipples. Ona wonders how she got so lucky that this woman, this beauty, is hers. 

When Lucy managed to open her eyes again, Ona had moved back to be beside her in bed. Lucy can taste herself on Ona’s lips when she leans in for a kiss. It’s hot, and if she wasn’t so far gone already, she might have begged to be fucked again. 

Ona opened her arms, allowing Lucy to shuffle closer into her and rest on Ona’s chest. 

“I’m yours,” Ona said as she kissed Lucy’s forehead. “I’m yours,” Lucy echoed, snuggling her head closer to Ona.

#ona batlle #lucy bronze #ona batlle smut #lucy bronze smut #lucy bronze x ona batlle #ona batlle x lucy bronze #woso fanfics #woso smut #my writing

[swallowtail-lotus]

Mine {Qin Shi Huang x Empress!Reader}

Fluff turned to lime {Slight nsfw near the end}

I am in need for Qin stuff

Qin has become my kind of man🥰

_____________

Trying to make your way back home to your husband has always been a hassle, especially when you're trying to power through a crowd. You tried your best not to bump into anyone in fear of angering the civilians. As you reached the end of the crowd, your rear end accidentally brushed against the crotch of a man, who had been eyeing you lustfully from the beginning.

When you managed to escape the huge crowd, a hand held onto your wrist, tightening when you tried to take your wrist back.

"Where do you think you're going?" The man asked, his grin growing wider as he watched you struggle.

"Away from you." You hissed, raising your hand and slamming it on the man's wrist. You yanked your wrist back once his grip loosened up and took a fighting stance.

"Your highness! The emperor requested you to come back home now!" One of the servants called out to you. You sighed out, straightening yourself up and followed the servant to the palace. Meanwhile, the man froze in his place, feeling stupid for trying to make a move on the Empress.

_____

You stood absolutely still to let the servants dress you up in your home clothes. Once they were done, you made your way to your husband, a gentle smile on your face. And there he was, practicing his fighting as he usually did. You didn't bother interrupt his sessions, just silently admiring him.

The way his arms slightly flex from swinging his weapons and his shoulders on display was amazing.

"Still training as always. But I'm not complaining." You thought, leaning against the wall separating the room from the hallways. The same servant from earlier checked up on you and after giving them an reassuring answer, you turned and your husband was nowhere in the room. You went to go search for him, but a pair of strong arms wrapped around you from behind.

"Why do you always hug me like this?"

"Why shouldn't I? Is it wrong to hug my empress?" You shut your mouth after that. This was the usual response he always gave you everytime you asked. He wasn't wrong, though.

"No, but next time, don't sneak up on me." You turned around, hugging him by his shoulders. Suddenly, he lifted you up, holding you bridal style with his trademark smile.

"I can't promise that." With that, he carried you all the way to your shared bedroom. He threw you in the bed, climbing on top of you before you could even react.

"I heard some man bothered you." You squeaked when he left soft kisses on your neck. Shuddering in pleasure, you brought him closer to kiss his jawline. His teeth bit into the soft skin of your neck, trailing his hand down to your lower region.

"I need to let everyone know who you belong to." His hot breath against your ear turned your body to putty. His fingers stroked your clothed entrance, rubbing the tip of them in circles right where the hole is. He stopped kissing your neck and took off the blindfold, staring down with eyes so beautiful and full of lust. He didn't stop teasing you down there, however.

"You ready? Because I won't hold back once I start~"

#i wanna kiss his jaw 💕 #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #qin shi huang x reader #ror qin shi huang x reader #ror x reader #snv x reader

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

Jealous

pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem!reader

genre: fluff

el's thoughts: requested by @jahayla-parker. i hope you like itttt!! it may be a lil rough 'cause i'm climbing over my writers block, but here you go!!

main masterlist

Nikolai wasn’t a naturally jealous person. Okay, maybe he was but when it came to Y/N it was different. The feeling in his chest tightened and threatened to choke him. It was a feeling that he had grown accustomed to, but he had learned that if he zoned out for long enough the familiar ache faded into a subtle feeling settled in his chest. And the young king played this to his advantage as much as possible.

The music of the party was nothing but a light buzzing in Nikolai’s ears as he looked around the ballroom.  He was religiously avoiding the couple spinning around on the dance floor. ‘Why wouldn’t she have told me she was coming with a date?’ The ache in his chest returned almost as an instant response to his thoughts. To see her in the arms of another man sent a cold chill down his spine and his mind racing. ‘Hadn’t I been obvious with my intentions? How could she not know that I’ve been interested in her for years now?’

“Because you’ve never told her that you’ve fancied her for years now.”

Nikolai nearly jumped at Zoya’s voice beside him. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes,” she scoffed. “And you should be glad it was only me who heard and not anyone else.”

“Suppose I should be…” He trailed off with gritted teeth as the laughing couple caught his eye again. 

“I should tell you that you wouldn’t be in this position if you would’ve talked to her.”

“Thank you for that observation, Zoya. Don’t you have someone else to go bother?”

Nikolai could feel her roll her eyes beside him but ignored her. Y/N placed her hand on her date's arm and leaned closer to him while he laughed. Anger and frustration with himself boiled in the pit of his stomach at the sight. 

Zoya sighed to herself, feeling the smallest bit of pity for the young king. “You should walk around and socialize with your guests.”

“You’re right,” he sighed. 

~

Y/N walked down the hall that led to Nikolai’s personal quarters, clad only in her night gown and robe. She slipped through the door without knocking or making her presence known. Nikolai was sat on one of the chairs by the fire place, his dress clothes long forgotten now replaced by his own silk night clothes. 

“Didn’t see much of you tonight.”

Her voice caught him off guard but he composed himself quickly. “I’ll be honest, I’m surprised you noticed.”

She placed a dramatic hand over her heart as she fell into the seat beside him. “You wound me.”

Her actions pulled a small smile out of him but only for a minute before his face fell slack again. “How was your date?” His voice carried a bitterness that would’ve caught Y/N off guard had she not expected it.

“Well, I wouldn’t consider it a date, but it was good.”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself plenty.”

“Yes, well I happen to miss my family and it was nice to be able to catch up with my older cousin.”

Nikolai coughed and tried to hide the heat crawling up his neck. “Cousin?”

“Yes, Nikolai, I invited my cousin tonight.”

“Oh…” Guilt slowly crept up on the king as he brought his gaze back to the fire. 

“Why?” she asked with a smirk. “Were you jealous?”

He scoffed playfully, “Me? Jealous? Of you dancing with another man. Never.”

Y/N hummed with a chuckle. “Of course not.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Nikolai spoke up again. “You are important to me. You know that right?”

She smiled softly at him, “Of course, Nik. You’re important to me too.”

He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “No, I mean…” He inhaled sharply and leaned forward, enough to reach across and hold her hands in his. 

“I love you. Have for years now, and you must’ve been blind not to see it, but I’m sorry. For not telling you earlier. I’m sorry I get like this sometimes… Zoya said it’s really my fault I get jealous, and she’s right. I should’ve told you a long time ago.”

He looked up at her almost timidly and with hesitance but was only met with a proud smirk upon her lips. 

“I knew.”

His eyes widened and he dropped her hands. “You knew this whole time?”

“Like you said, I’d have to have been blind not to see it.”

“Then… then why have you-”

Y/N laughed, “I’ll be honest, I like messing with you a bit. But I was also waiting for you to tell me yourself. You needed to pluck up the courage to tell me and I just kept giving you little nudges.”

Nikolai watched her with nothing but admiration in his eyes, “You’re sneaky.”

“But you love me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x y/n #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagines #ellora.writes

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

What do you think Katniss and Peeta’s unexpected turn ons are? Like a small innocent thing about the other that drives them wild just because they really love them so much? And makes the other one go “really? 😉”

This was way too much fun to answer and got out of hand. I could probably think up a thousand more of these if I had the time.

<3 kdnfb

Canonically, Peeta cannot lie to Katniss and look her in the eyes. When she figures out that he still can’t post-mj, she uses it to her advantage. She can always tell when he’s trying to fib his way out of accidentally revealing an innocuous secret or a surprise he’s planning, like what he’s getting her for her birthday. And it drives her a little insane. Like “either look me in the eyes when you try to lie to me or take me to bed right now, since you won’t give me my present right now.”

Katniss is a consummate caretaker, to an almost annoying degree. Fortunately for her, she husbanded someone with a caretaker kink. That boy was dying of blood poisoning, raging with fever in a deathmatch arena, and he was still laying down the lines and making her laugh. Every time she fusses over him or bosses him around when he’s got a minor injury or just a little sniffling cold, that man is in full on flirt mode and dragging her into bed with him. “I’ve got a surefire way you can make me feel better.” “If we have sex, will you stop whining and get up so I can wash the sheets afterwards?” she sighs in exasperation as she’s stripping off her clothes and crawling under the covers with him.

Meanwhile, Katniss goes feral whenever Peeta gets a little protective of her. Some whackadoo from the Capitol comes out to Twelve to check on the progress of the new medicine factory and brings a limousine with him on the train, but the roads in Twelve are not made for cars like that and the idiot almost runs people over. So of course, Peeta wraps his arm around his wife and bodily lifts her out of the path. One second she’s walking through town, reciting her shopping list, the next she’s pressed up against a storefront with Peeta’s body caging her in and some idiot driver is careening past, honking his horn. And if you think Katniss doesn’t almost climb him right there and he has to toss her over his shoulder to drag her home before she tears his clothes off, I cannot help you.

Both of them become unhinged morons whenever the other one is a complete mess. 

By this I mean Katniss comes in from tending the garden, her shirt all sweaty and clinging to her. Her hair’s a mess and she’s got a little sunburn on her nose and cheeks and Peeta’s already naked, demanding she take him on the spot. 

Similar response when she comes home a little disheveled from a hunt. “At least let me put the meat in the freezer first, Peeta.” Nope. She gets railed up against said freezer and can’t keep a straight face when they have to invite Haymitch over to eat all this meat because they had to cook it immediately after or it would’ve gone bad.

Peeta starts coming home from the bakery deliberately a little messy. Flour in his hair, sugar stuck to his neck. A random smear of frosting on his arm. Why? Because Katniss starts squirming the instant she sees him and honestly, he really likes it when she mounts him in the hallway because she couldn’t make it the five extra feet to the bedroom.

He’s lost count of how many times they’ve had sex because he didn’t get all the paint washed off his hands before a meal or before bed. And he almost never notices the smear of paint or pencil dust that winds up on his left temple because he brushed back his hair at some point while he was painting/drawing and why is that so hot? She has no clue, all she knows is that she wants to bathe in him. Usually, she manages to wait a little while for that one, mainly because she wants to see what he was painting before she jumps him. What he was painting often dictates the flavor of their sex.

He doesn’t paint the Games as much, after the first time she tells him “Real,” but when he does, the sex is tender and usually happens in the art studio itself, on a paint splattered sofa or on the floor, rolling around on his floor tarps so that both of them are smeared with paint afterwards.

If he’s painting her or other people that they love, they’ll make it up to the bedroom before clothes start flying, laughing and teasing each other the entire way. Katniss will be laughing so hard she snorts while she’s moaning and coming at the same time. Peeta lives to make her snort laughing while she’s coming, btw. Huge turn on, switch flipped to feral mode as soon as she's done coming, and Katniss feels like she won’t be able to walk straight for a day after he finishes inside her.

He uses her as a canvas? Well eventually he's gonna wind up covered in paint too. They go until the paint starts to dry and by then, they're sleepy and content and can barely move anymore.

Painting landscapes and nature scenes? Absolutely feral pig sex where the neighbors worry about them and ask each other if they should… knock? Make sure everyone is still alive in there? Katniss really can’t walk straight for a day after that, but she’s not complaining. Instead she’s demanding her husband carry her around, because he did that to her, after all.

Sadly for Katniss, Peeta carrying her around is something she absolutely loves for the tenderness and silliness of it, but also at times it turns her into a raving madwoman "take me to bed and throw me on it then fuck me this instant before I pull out all my hair, husband!"

And ho buddy, when the two of them come home all sweaty and gross from rebuilding the district? Round one on the floor in the entryway. Round two with skin squealing on shower walls and borderline screaming moans echoing off the bathroom walls. Hair pulling, biting, clawing sex. Let me inside your skin, ten minutes later we’re still actively sweating well damn it that shower was fucking pointless in terms of getting clean sex.

Katniss eats her pie backwards, crust first and Peeta doesn’t know why, but for some reason, he thinks it’s adorable and needs to have her instantly. Haymitch wonders why he no longer gets pie on nights when he eats dinner with them. There’s always dessert… but no pie. So Peeta starts baking Haymitch his own pies and dropping them off, because he’s not giving up his absolute need to toss Katniss on the table and eat her out like he’s a dying man whenever she eats her pie like that.

Peeta looks like he’s solving all of the world’s problems when he’s brushing his teeth. So serious. Sometimes, Katniss will throw small objects at his prosthetic until he notices and giggles when he does, looking at her like she’s an annoying brat. Sometimes, she sneaks up behind him and makes faces at him over his shoulder until he laughs and spits out the toothpaste. Other times, her hands on him are incredibly naughty and the next thing he knows, he looks like a rabid animal in the mirror while he’s bent over the sink, holding on for dear life with her hands on his dick, unraveling him one caress and stroke at a time. But whatever she does, it ends with their sheets an absolute wreck and both of them naked and sweaty and staring at the ceiling going “Wow. So that… happened…”

Katniss bites her nails when she’s nervous and Peeta fixes it by snatching her hand and kissing her from her fingertips up her arms to her neck… where he blows a raspberry until she’s laughing. Do smutty things happen after that? Depends on the setting.

Peeta still flirts with her. Like blatantly, let's see how red I can get my wife’s face flirting with her over the bakery counter or in the town square, in front of literally everyone’s salad. And Katniss just melts like a loon but is secretly plotting how to get him naked asap. She’s not against throwing him against the nearest tree if only there weren’t so many people in the district. Oh but she’s absolutely savaged him against several trees in the woods because he was flirting.

Peeta whistles when he’s working in the bakery. Katniss thinks it’s adorable and sexy as hell. She sings in the shower and Peeta never misses the show, sitting on the toilet or just standing against the sink just to hear her sing. It’s the only time he manages to move silently.

Katniss cannot keep her hands out of Peeta’s hair. Girl is obsessed. And Peeta finds it at turns, adorable, adorably annoying, a mild turn on, or holy hell hot. Like “pull my hair again when I make you come” hot. Conversely, she absolutely loves it when Peeta brushes and braids her hair for her. He’s trying to have a tender, loving moment, and she’s often “are you done yet because as soon as that hair tie is on, i’m gonna be all over you.”

Both of them absolutely love it when the other one laughs. It’s not always a turn on, per se, but when it is… lord have mercy they broke a whole ass bed one time because Peeta laughed at something Katniss said.

Peeta wearing loose, soft pajama pants or the like. Katniss is all hot and bothered and “i’m not that big you can definitely fit me in there with you…” Peeta looks at her like she’s lost it, but they actually do try it once or twice. Numerous pairs of pants have been ripped and sewn back together in this pursuit, and not because she couldn’t fit in there with him.

He’s long since accepted that if they’re dressing up for some occasion, he has to get dressed two hours early. To give Katniss enough time to rip it all off and have her way with him and still have time for them to shower and get dressed again so they’re not late.

Anytime Katniss wears one of his shirts, sweaters, etc, he’s pretty sure he’s going to die unless he gets his mouth or hands on her and then his cock inside her because half the time, she’s not wearing a bra or pants with them, just panties, and he just… has to have her. NOW. While said garment is still on her body. Especially a particular red sweater he was wearing the day they had sex the first time and she wore it the morning after.

She absolutely has a sunset orange nightie that nearly gets removed (or not removed) every time she wears it, but removed or not… either way, Katniss can’t feel her toes after Peeta makes her come as many times as he can whenever she wears it. 

#well aren't you a spicy anon #post mockingjay #everlark #anonymous #look at that ask

[astraxxei]

thinking about lovesick corrupted yan venti 🤤

he was nice enough to give his darling their own room to “be nice” but they have a chain attached from thier ankle to the bed and its only long enough to go to the four corners of the room

thinkign ab how he doesnt think its noncon because it brings them clsoer together

thinking ab darling who just gor kidnapped and gets their ass punished for biting his dick mid bj

he would punish them by hurting them back lol

u should totally write ab reader biting his dick ( like as a way of attacking him ) and getting punished for it

yes this is a noncon request 😞

gn!reader possibly?

- :3

Hi :3 anon! OF COURSE I'LL DO TS. THE BITING IS SO FUNNY HELP ME.

✧.° - You belong to me, darling...~ ♡

ft VENTI from Genshin Impact.

WARNINGS : NSFW: SEXUAL THEMES. INTERACT AT YOUR OWN RISK. DARK CONTENT. ( :NONCON. Sadism/Masochism. Slight blood. Violence. Yandere themes. Character is a yandere. Reader is a victim. Degradation.)

Yandere! Corrupted! Venti. Reader uses they/them pronouns. Reader is gn. AU where corrupted Venti is the ruler of Mondstadt and reader is an innocent citizen. Oneshot: requested.

This is a dark content post. If you do not wish to see this type of content, please block the corresponding tags. I am not responsible for any person reading this. Reader discretion is advised. Any hate will not be tolerated. By proceeding under the cut, you confirm that you wish to see this type of content and you have FULL responsibility of what you're about to read and interact with.

~ ♡ ~

Even ever since you knew about what Barbatos has become, you did not wish to leave your birth nation. Strange, yet endearing, that you had such a strong connection to your homeland that you didn't want to leave even while you knew that your archon had been corrupted with a mind full of malice and power and then... nothing. Destruction and despair, but you preferred to endure than run away. Scared and stunned, you ran and ran like a chased criminal from the wind. You had went out to buy some apples, but suddenly you felt like the breeze has been after you. You felt like this for a while, every single time you stepped foot out of your home, like something was chasing you, a strong desire to make you it's possession filling in it's blood.

But the wind blew so hard this time, it knocked you on a tree and you passed out. About time, because you've been losing sleep lately, you though before blackening out. You suddenly wake up and... You feel strange. Your head hurts, but you're on a soft bed. But you try to get up and...what is that you feel? Restraints? Chains locked in your ankle on the bed.

You realized you could only move to reach the corners of the small room. The chain attached to your ankle was starting to hurt, but you didn't notice that. More importantly, you were scared. You didn't know what was going on. Who was the one that chained you, restrained you, in a place you've never been before? You hear a faint laugh in the distance. Malicious laugh... sending shivers of terror down your spine.

The one climbing up the stairs to the little room you were currently in was no one other than the Anemo archon himself. Your eyes widen. You can't believe you got into this situation.

"B- Barbatos?!"

"Call me Venti, dear~"

His voice is sweet like sugar cubes, but it's scary and intimidating at the same time. He is average heighted, his glowing, pink eyes are staring into yours. His huge smile is spread across his face, and you swear that even in your weak vision you can see blood staining his delicate clothes.

"Look darling. You're mine from now on~ I gave you your own room~ I should be getting rewarded for being so kind and sweet...to my lover. Come here, and I will teach you how to show me your appreciation all day~"

Terrified, you shake your head as he walks towards you. You were scared, so scared, oh, what a monster...

You almost don't notice how swiftly you're being pulled towards him. You try to protest and squirm but his hand is grabbing your hair so hard it hurts and you almost cry out in pain. A malicious laugh is the response you're getting.

"Ahahaha! Look at you, trying to get away from the Anemo archon! This is a way for both of us to bond, you know...you should want it...You should be good to me...or else... I might do something you won't really like...my lovely dearie~"

You stop protesting as his hand on your hair is hurting you too much to handle. Before you realize it you're lowered down to his crotch and as he throws his clothing to the side you see his erection pent up proudly right in front of your face. Your eyes widen at the sudden realization of his size, but you remember, he's a god, so you're not anymore surprised. He looks down at you mischievously and smiles widely as he runs his hand through your hair.

"See that? Well, you better take care of it. I don't have all day."

You sigh in despair of how you got yourself into this situation. You part your lips and start taking it slowly inside your mouth, sucking slowly and looking up at him with a slightly indifferent look. You see his flushed face as he grabs your hair tighter and pulls your head towards himself roughly, the sounds of pleasure escaping his mouth as soon as he feels yours around him.

"Aaah~ Mmph~ Haah~"

He tastes so good. You don't want to admit it to yourself, but you like it. You really like the sensation. But at the same time...you get slightly annoyed. You've been denied freedom and a good life because of this faulty archon, and now he's forcing you to suck on his dick? You feel absolutely degraded. You decide you can't tolerate this, no, for your nation, and your own sake, you can't.

Without even thinking you bring your teeth to bite down. Not too hard, but enough to cause pain. You see Venti's eyes widen and tear up slightly as he lets out a pained squeal and pulls back from you immediately.

You pant and breathe heavily, looking at him as your saliva is connecting your mouth with his tip. Suddenly he looks down at you with a very angry expression and before you know it a hard, sudden slap makes it's way across your face.

"That hurt, you fucking whore!"

Your vision goes foggy. You whimper and place your trembling hand on your cheek. The chain is still tied to your ankle. You look up at him, shaking. He looks down at you, breathing heavily, but seemingly less angry than before. He kneels down and his hand quickly wraps around your neck. It's really hard, and it hurts. You try to whimper out your words.

"..'m sorry..sor- hnn..."

He lets go of your neck and smiles. "This is what you get for being a disobedient slut. Don't worry, I still love you though~ disobedient or not, you're just my adorable little toy..."

He looks down at you with a wide, mischievous smile and caresses your cheek.

"...and I'm going to do anything in my power to make sure you understand that you're mine and mine only. The feeling of me will be implanted in your brain forever. You belong to me, darling...~ "

~ ♡ ~

A/n: I have never written anything more toe curling in my whole life. Also I managed to not laugh while writting the biting part. I did not expect this to happen.

#genshin venti #venti x reader #smut #genshin smut #dark content #gn!reader #genshin x reader #anemo archon #degrading k1nk #yandere #yandere character #mental illness #core #tw noncon #tw bl0od

[buckychristwrites]

About You | Day 4 | j.t.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: Your job? Pop culture journalist for The Independent. Your assignment? To write a profile on the cocky footballer that you're publicly feuding with.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Idk maybe its kinda fluffish. Cussing. Enemies to lovers

A/N: Let me know what you think! :)

Masterlist | About You Masterlist | Main Blog

It was admittedly difficult to sleep that night. Firstly, the couch was just not your choice of  a preferred sleeping spot. Secondly, it was weird having a person sleeping in your bed, especially a person who you didn’t sleep with, and especially especially since that person was Jamie Tartt. 

Which explains why you were up so early, two pans on the stove with breakfast. One with eggs, the other with potatoes frying up. On the counter was the bread, waiting patiently to be cooked in the toaster.

Movement in the bedroom told you that Jamie was awake. Turning from the pans, you threw two slices of bread into the toaster. By the time you had turned back, the door to the bedroom crept open and slow footsteps made their way down the hallway. Rubbing his eyes, Jamie appeared in the open living room. When you looked up at him, you found him still just in his boxers. The two of you stared at each other for a while with similar looks of surprise. You couldn’t say why he was in shock, but for you, it was because of the nakedness. 

“I woke up thinkin’ that I had the strangest dream,” He said slowly, looking around the room with squinted eyes. His back was facing you when he spoke again. “Guess it was not a dream.”

“Not a dream,” You said, scrunching your face. He flopped down on your couch, running his hands up and down his face.

“Drank too much,” He admitted. “My head is fuckin’ killin’ me.”

“Did your clothes evaporate overnight?” You asked him in an unusually high pitched voice. Though you weren’t looking at him, you could sense his eyes jump back towards you. 

“They’re still on the floor, thanks.”

“Well, thank God. I was worried, since you decided not to dress before coming out.” He was trying and failing to hide a smile.

“Fine, fine.” He sauntered back towards the bedroom, and against your better judgement, you looked up from the stove, letting your gaze fall up and down his backside before he disappeared down the hall. 

“We have to be out the door soon, so hurry up!” You called to him, receiving a groan in response. The toast popped out of the toaster suddenly, making you jump. You grabbed a plate and filled it with half the food, setting it down before doing the same with another. When Jamie re-entered the scene, this time fully clothed and with brushed hair, you handed him a plate. 

“Eat fast. I’ll drive us to work.” The sentence felt so weirdly domestic, and you wanted to hate it more than you did.

He nodded, taking a seat at the small dining table and digging in. You sat across from him and did the same. It was a silent meal, but comfortable, as if the two of you had been eating meals together for a long time. Before you knew it, the plates were empty. Jamie stood just as you were about to and grabbed your dish.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” You said, reaching to take them from him, but he waved you off. 

“Please.”

You said nothing more, instead rushing towards the bedroom so you could get ready. From the kitchen, you could hear water running and dishes clanking together, making you freeze. Is he doing the dishes? You finished getting dressed and quickly brushing your hair before walking back out. Jamie was just pulling the gloves off his hands as you came into view. Turning towards you, he looked you up and down, expressionless, before speaking. 

“You good?” He asked. You nodded, a surreal feeling washing over you.

How did your day start like this?

The two of you made your way down to the car park, where you climbed into the driver’s side. The rain was still modestly falling, although it was nowhere near the magnitude it had been the morning prior. Despite turning the car on, you made no move to leave, even after Jamie was in and secured. A few seconds passed before you felt his stare fall on you.

“I think we should start over,” You said, before turning your head to meet his gaze. “We’ve both done things, and continuing to fault the other for the past is counterproductive. I think we should go into today with a clean slate between us.” 

“Dunno,” He said as you came to a stop light. A moment of deja vu hit you as you turned to face him, reminding you of the evening before. When you met his eye, you found him smirking. “I kinda like bein’ mean to ya.” 

“Well, in that case…” You trailed off, the both of you laughing at the exchange. After a second, you tilted your head. “I’m not saying we have to be the best of friends who braid each other’s hair and share their deepest darkest secrets. But at least while I’m around for the next week, we can pretend.”

He lifted a finger at you before saying, “Or two.” You looked at him in confusion.

“Or two what?”

“Weeks.”

“Or two weeks,” You repeated back to him in agreement. 

But you didn’t think it was pretending, at least not for you. It was then that you realised that you were, indeed, starting to like Jamie Tartt as a person. Though he was still stubborn and arrogant, the night before had been a moment of clarity for you. He was just as broken as everyone else, despite his cool exterior. Inside, he was just a young boy, begging for validation and affirmation. But most importantly, he was begging for the love he didn’t receive from his father. Beyond that, the night before had you laughing the hardest that you had in a while. 

The car behind you honked, you cursing under your breath as you drove through the green light that you had, once again, missed.

“I think you’re right,” He finally said. A smile playing at your lips, you glanced over at him. “It’s hard bein’ angry that you’re here.” He paused, and it was then you noticed the water bottle in his lap, which was he messing with the lid of. “You…” A beat passed. “You didn’t turn out to be the villain I’d made you in me head all these years.” 

Something about that made your heart swell.

“You’re not as bad as I made you out to be, either.” You smiled with your face forward. And though you weren’t looking at him, you thought you caught a smile out of the corner of your eye.

“Although,” He added, his voice quiet. You eyed him, waiting patiently. He let out a slight laugh, rubbing his forehead. “You actually do know my deepest, darkest secrets now.” 

Something fluttered in your stomach.

The next thing either of you knew, you were putting the car in park. A few spaces over was Jamie’s car, patiently waiting for him. You pulled his keys out of your purse and handed them.

“I take it you'll need those.” 

He opened his mouth to say something, but immediately seemed to backtrack. You studied him. For a man who had been drinking so hard the night before, he seemed like he was in good spirits. Suddenly, he was jumping out of the car. 

“Can’t sit here all day, can we?”

You followed, having another moment of deja vu as the two of you walked in the club together. Despite having worked there for what you could assume was a while, the security guard still appeared overjoyed at the sight of Jamie, and forgot to check your pass. 

It seemed like the entire team was waiting for the pair of you, for once he, then you, entered, a chunk of them circled around like a pack of dogs.

“What happened last night?”

“Did you drive, Jamie? Is your car okay?”

“Did you sleep on the street?”

“Lads, lads, let’s calm down, yeah? A man is still nursin’ a hangover,'' Jamie pushed through them to get to his locker. Once he had broken from the pack, all eyes landed on you. The anxiety in your chest began to creep up.

“I drove him to his place. threw him in bed, and then I went back home, myself,” You explained to them. Over Dani’s shoulder, you could see Jamie look over at you. Holding his gaze for a moment, he nodded at you as if to thank you. You looked back at the others without giving any sort of reply. They all seemed to accept this explanation without further questioning. 

“We are just glad you got home safely,” Sam said, a wide smile that he gave to both you and Jamie. 

“Didn’t seem concerned when you sent the enemy after me, did ya?” Jamie asked, making the others roar out in laughter. You couldn’t help but laugh along with them as you could hear the playfulness in his tone. 

“We were just gonna let what God intended to happen, happen, bruv,” Isaac said to him. 

“Maybe God intended for her to go after you, Jamie!” Dani added. 

Jamie and you exchanged a look before quickly looking away. Your cheeks grew very hot. Jamie awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. 

With immaculate timing, the coaches entered in that moment, saving the both of you from having to come up with a response. You took your place against the wall, although now you allowed yourself to stand a bit closer to Jamie’s locker. 

As they spoke, you took notes. 

“Didya ever think that maybe you’d learn more if you listened than just writing down whatever they say?” Jamie whispered into your ear. His breath was warm against your skin. Ignoring that feeling, you shot him a glare. 

“I don’t need to know how to play football,” You reminded him, glancing at the coaches to make sure they weren’t privy to the two of you talking before going on. “So I don’t need to learn what all this means.” 

“Just tryna help ya sound smart for ya article.”

“Are you saying I sound stupid?”

“You could sound smarter…” 

“And who made you the expert on sounding smart?”

“Meself, obviously.”

“What are your qualifications, footballer?”

“Well-“

“I’m sorry, is this meetin’ interruptin’ you?” Roy’s voice boomed through the room, making the two of you jump.

“Sorry,” Jamie called out, raising his hand in apology. You lowered your head and furiously pretended to be writing notes innocently. Roy’s glare lingered for another few seconds before Beard continued talking. 

When everyone began to head towards the tunnel, you walked towards the entrance to the stands. 

“Oi.” You turned to see Jamie watching you. “Just come out with us. You can stand with the coaches.” When you opened your mouth to counter him, he waved his arm towards himself as a gesture to follow him. “It’ll be easier for you to take your wee notes. Let’s go.” Conceding, you followed him out onto the pitch. 

The rain had stopped, the sky still blanketed with clouds. The players started running their drills. You stood a few feet behind the coaches. Being on the pitch as opposed to the stands did make a difference. It was much easier to hear the coaches, and you could hear the players as well. 

“So,” A voice next to you said. You jumped, damn near throwing your notepad across the field before turning to find Beard next to you, standing in the same exact stance when he had been in front of you just moments before. “A truce was called, then?” After you remembered how to breathe, you nodded. 

“We talked it out, I think.” The two of you looked out in time to see Jamie fold over in laughter over something Isaac said. 

“I haven’t seen him in such high spirits since Ted left,” Beard admitted. The mention of the former head coach brought your thoughts to a screeching halt. You glanced at him for a brief second before turning back to Jamie.

“He hasn’t brought Lasso up at all to me.” 

Beard blew a raspberry, shaking his head. “He was really torn up about it. I don’t think he wanted anyone to know.” He was thoughtful as he continued to watch the footballer kick a ball into the net. “I think he viewed him as a father figure.” You thought back to the conversation from your car, where Jamie told you about his abusive father. The pain in his voice was so clear, along with the hesitation to tell you. 

“He told me a little about his dad,” You said quietly. 

“I’ve never witnessed such behaviour from a parent,” Beard admitted. “Disgusting.” This truly grabbed your attention, making you turn your entire body towards the coach.

“You saw it?” You asked. “You saw his father abuse him?” The expression on Beard’s face became a pained one, the memory clear as day on his face.

“It was at Wembley, when we played Man City,” He explained. “Pops came backstage, clearly sloshed. Wanted to bring his buddies through security to take pictures of the pitch. Jamie said no.” He began to shake his head. “Started calling his own son names, and getting in his face. We had lost, morale was low. Jamie clobbered him right in the nose.” At this, he looked proud. “He deserved more than that, but I’m glad he got what he did get.” 

You felt sick. The breakfast you had worked so hard to make was threatening to make a reappearance all over the rich green grass. 

When Jamie had told you about his dad, you had assumed it had happened a long time ago,  maybe as soon as when he had just started out. Never would you have ever thought that it was happening so recently that Coach Beard, or any of the current members of the team for that matter, would’ve been there to bear witness. 

No wonder your articles hurt him so much. It all made more sense now. He was getting abused two fold.

The second your eyes found Jamie, seeing his smile as he passed the ball to his teammates, you felt a surge of pride towards him. He was a huge jerk for a long time, following in the shadow of his father. But he learned, and he grew. Now he knew kindness and love. 

The transformation was quite magical.

The whistle blew and the players made their way towards the coaches. Jamie stood next to you, eyeing you curious.

“You alright?”

You turned to face him, and it felt like you were seeing him for the first time.

“I’m good.”

He stared at you for a long time, eyes searching your face, before nodding. Crossing his arms over his chest, he turned to face the front again. You began taking notes again. It was hard to focus, with the newfound information fighting to be at the forefront of your mind. It felt strange, knowing something so intimate about Jamie that he hadn’t told you. Part of you wondered if you should tell him, but maybe that wasn’t for the best. You weren’t out of the woods yet when it came to your relationship with him, and it wasn’t best to rock the boat further. Maybe after the article you’d-

No. After the article, you’d be back to business as usual. There wouldn’t be any chances to talk to him about anything, really. You’d be off the pitch and back in your office. He’d continue to play football and be Jamie. And it would be like none of this ever happened.

Why the fuck is this making me so sad? You asked yourself.

Pulling you from your thoughts was Jamie bumping his hip against yours. You jumped slightly, before turning to look at him. His face was filled with amusement.

“Sorry, Jumpy,” He said with a voice filled with laughter. “I was thinkin’ we could have a chat after practice, if ya want.” You shook your head with more force than you intended.

“Yeah, that would be great!” There must’ve been something off about your tone, for he knitted his eyebrows together, his head tilting slightly.

“You sure you’re alright?” 

Inhaling slowly, you nodded again. This time with more ease.

“I’m fine, Tartt.” At first, he seemed shocked that you were back to calling him by his last name, but the smile you gave seemed to placate him, as he returned it almost as quick. 

When practice was over, and the field had been cleared out, it was just Jamie and yourself who remained. You sat in the grass, running your fingers across the even cut blades. Jamie was standing, and was moving around as if he wasn’t able to stop.

“Do you ever relax?” You asked him, your phone already set to record. He paused at this, raising his hands in question.

“I’m always relaxed.”

“That’s definitely not true.” He scoffed, but you continued. “What do you do to unwind?” This made him stop, genuine thought on his face.

“I dunno,” He admitted. “I like havin’ a pint with friends. Layin’ on me couch sometimes.” When his eyes found you again, he found your face scrunched up. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m gonna make that the headline,” You said as you raised your hands and wrote a line in the air in front of you. “‘Jamie Tart: He Also Drinks Beer and Lays On The Couch.’” He laughed.

“Fuck off.” Shaking your head, you looked around at the field.

“If you could talk to any deceased person for 30 seconds, who would it be and what would you say?”

The next words out of his mouth hit you like a train. In the most earnest voice, he said, “I’d talk to George Harrison, and tell him thank ya for inspirin’ me to live my life.”

The recording was instantly turned off, as it was ruined by the way you were laughing. Jamie looked scandalised as you fell backwards into the grass.

“What’s so fuckin’ funny?”

“Didn’t you only just find out about George Harrison dying?”

“I didn’t know!” He shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Can’t know everything all the time, can I?” As you came down from your laughter, wiping a tear from your eye, you shook your hand.

“No, you can’t.”

He started moving around again, and you watched him. Recalling the conversation from earlier with Beard, you bit your lip.

“What about living?”

He paused.

“What?”

You inhaled sharply. “If you could say whatever you wanted to any living person, with no consequences, what would you say?” 

This made him really freeze, his eyebrows properly knitted together. After a moment of silence, he took a few steps forward and sat down just a few feet from you. Elbows on his knees, he rested his chin in his palms.

“I’d ask my dad why I wasn’t enough to keep ‘im sober.” All traces of humour left your face. He nodded before continuing, “I’d tell him I needed him to treat me as more than a punchin’ bag.” Another beat passed. “And then I’d thank him. I’m the man I am today in spite of him. And I’m proud of that.” 

He was staring at his hands right then. You smiled at him.

“You should be.” 

His head jumped upward, eyes falling on you once more. Your smile was more broad this time, as you leaned forward a little.

“Yeah?” He asked, as if his opinion was hanging by the thread of your answer. 

You nodded firmly. “Yeah.”

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso fanfiction

[chanelles-world]

FIGHT NIGHT! • c sturniolo x reader

anonymous: I need enemies to lovers where he protects reader at a party when some guy tries to touch her after spiking her drink

PART TWO:

a/n: contains smut, overstimulation, cursing etc. don’t read if youre a minor. this was part two of the request. i hope yall enjoy..

part one recap..

you and chris made it to your house. both of your parents were still gone so you invite chris inside. you both walk into the living room and take a seat on the couch getting comfortable.

you decided to ask a question that you didn’t expect an answer to. you didn’t know if this would change things for the worse or the better but you decided to ask anyways.

“chris.. can i ask you something.” you ask looking him in the eyes. his arms were spread out against the top part of the couch and his legs were spread out. he looks in your direction.

“um yeah shoot..” chris responds. you nibble on the bottom of your lip. “i just want to know.. what happened to us?” you take a few seconds before talking again. “we were practically inseparable but then high school came along and we just…. i don’t know..” you finish, sighing.

chris doesn’t answer for a few minutes. you begin to think if the question messed things up.

“i don’t know.. life happen i guess.” chris says. you didn’t realize but chris was lying thru his teeth.

you look away disappointed. you don’t know what you expected from him.

“oh um yeah i guess..” you say, sighing. “you know i just have a feeling it’s more than that though..” you say not letting you. out of the corner of your eye it looks like chris gulped nervously. you wonder why.

••••

once again no response. you start getting nervous because you didn’t know what was going on or what to expect.

it was like this for what felt like an eternity. what the fuck.. you both move around nervously. the tension was thick and chris was acting really weird. his whole aura changed once you said that second sentence.

“okay.. um do you want the honest truth?” chris says nervously running his hand through his hair. you nod your head confused as you looked over at him.

“shit, well here goes nothing..” chris breathes. i nervously wait for him to continue. “the reason i was distant and acting like a dick was.. um. was because i you know um started feeling things for…” chris didn’t finish his sentence instead he stared at you. you were confused, until it hit. you realized he was staring at you the whole time. oh shit. is he talking about me?. your mind was blown.

“wait oh my gosh… me?” you asked, gasping. chris nods looking everywhere but you. oh my gosh never in a billion years did you think Christopher sturnolio would fall for you.

instead of telling him your actual feelings you show him in a different way. you climb onto his lap, facing him. you look him in the eyes before wrapping your hands around his neck and kissing him hard.

chris tenses up shocked, but once he realized what was going on he kissed back. you both were now in a heated make out sesh.

as of right now you both knew things would change but you didn’t know if it was for worse or the better. both of you hoping it was for the better.

minutes have passed and you both have been in and out of some heated make out sessions, with pulling clothes off in between.

both of you were now fully naked. you were still sitting on top of him and you had placed your hands back and around his neck. chris placed his forehead against yours as he looks you in the eye.

you both were fully aroused. his dick was touching the tip of your pussy, fully able to sink in at any moment.

“what do you want?” chris whispers, still looking you straight in the eyes. “i want your dick deep inside my pussy, fucking me full..” you whisper back to him.

chris nods. he glides his dick up and down your juicy pussy lips before he positions his dick touching your hole. “oh god..” you moan quietly. chris hasn’t even entered his dick and you already felt good. the sensations were crazy.

“are you ready?” chris groans pushing his tip in slightly. “shit.. yes..” you hiss.

chris pushes the rest of his dick in as he pulls your hips down onto him. his dick fills your pussy up, pushing his nine inches in, touching your g-spot. “fuck…” you moan loudly.

chris places his hands on your hips, helping guide you to meet his thrusts. “oh fuck you’re so tight baby” chris groans shutting his eyes closed, thrusting his dick into your pussy even further.

“chris fuck, right there, oh my gosh!” you plead. he was fucking your wet core so well your stomach starts tightening.

“oh yeah baby!” chris groans in pleasure. “mm yeah” he moans again while pounding into your cavern.

“oh fuck I’m getting close..” you whisper as you feel your pussy start to clench together around his dick. “oh god, don’t do that, just not yet! hold it out!” Chris gutterly groans, shutting his eyes once more at the feel.

you try your hardest not to clench on his dick again but your pussy aches. chris abruptly stops his movements and my hips as he lifts me up.

before you could even begin to question why he stopped he grabbed your hips and lowered you down, hard on his dick.

“oh shit!!!” you moan. you needed to release and that didn’t help your cause. chris continues that motion again. his dick continues to pound into your pussy, hitting your g- spot.

“oh fuck! yes baby! oh shit” chris curses out. you could tell chris was getting close to his release once his dick started throbbing in your tight pussy. “oh fuck chris, i can’t hold it anymore fuck!” you moan crazily.

“ohhhh” chris says pounding even faster upwards hitting your g-spot. your body was on fire. you were about to combust at any given moment. the feeling was intense but incredible.

“oh god, chris please!” you moan out his name. your legs start trembling while you were on top of chris. it’s as if your pussy was overstimulated.. no doubt it was.

your hands fly up to his hair as you grab a fist full and pull. chris groans out in pleasure as that tempts him to move his movements even faster.

you felt like you were going to pass out. his dick almost felt as if it was about to poke out through your mouth, that’s how far and deep his dick went inside of you. you could feel it stretch your abdomen and show through your stomach.

“fuck chris i-I can’t h-hold it in a-any longer oh fuck!” you plead in intensity. your body aching hard to hold your release in.

“you can and you will dammit!” chris groans pounding into your pussy over and over and over again. he does not give no fucks. his eyes opened as they were clouded with lust.

“you can hold it! let me get in a few more!” he moans in my ear. you throw your head down against his shoulder. you for real couldn’t take it any more. this was too overwhelming. his cock deep in your pussy walls. you could literally see stars. “oh my! fuck!” you scream out in exasperation

chris giving you no mercy, pounds into you harder than never before. you moaned but nothing came out. you were too lost for words.

“oh fuck i’m going to cum!” chris yells, wrapping both his arms around your back holding you closer, as he continues to pound into you.

your pussy and body continue shaking uncontrollably as you feel thrusts and thrusts of cum shoot into your pussy filling you up. that did it. that pushed you over the fucking edge. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you fucking came all over his dick.

“FUCKKK IM CUMMING” you cry out as chris is still fucking you carrying out your highs.

you could feel his warm seed spilling into you. it felt so creamy and warm.

“FUCK FUCK FUCK” you yell out in pleasure as you feel your stomachs core tighten up as you continue to ride out my high.

“OH FUCK YEAH BABY, FUCK YEAH THATS RIGHT CUM ALL OVER MY DICK OH GOSH.” Chris moans, screaming out.

you about finished your high as you slowly lifted your hips up, to sink back down on his dick. you slowly move your hips back and forth riding him, not wanting to stop the pain but pleasure that he gave you.

your body felt limp as fuck. you finally stop moving your hips but stay sitting on his dick. chris gives you a gentle wet kiss. you let your lips linger on his for a moment before pulling away and laying your head down on his shoulder. your arms still wrapped around his neck.

a/n: how did we like??? damn i need dick fr…. don’t worry y’all i’m working on the requests it just takes time fr

but bring in more requests (;

tags: @flowerxbunnie @hearttshapedkisses @noellesturniolo @sturnvilmed

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #smut #chris smut #hot as fuck #chris x reader #enemies to lovers #confession #sexy content

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

[20:24] bf!Wonwoo x fem!reader, smut, fluff, established relationship, consensual somnophilia(?), dry humping, embarrassed Woo <333

There is a faint rustling echoing in the bedroom, the warm sunlight slowly creeping in through the curtains, but not enough to stir you awake from your slumber.

Your boyfriend, though, has been fully awake for the past ten minutes. Not because of the morning sunlight - because of his morning wood.

"Damnit....", Wonwoo curses under his breath, not knowing how to deal with his (not so) little problem, all while not wanting to wake you up. He just doesn't have it in his heart to disturb you while you're enjoying your well-earned sleep, your lips formed in a small pout, your hair cutely messed up and your half-naked body stretched out under the-

Fuck. He shouldn't have looked there. Especially when you're only wearing your black lacy bra and that thong he bought you a month ago.

As if it wasn't hard enough to ignore his boner, you right next to him makes his cock twitch almost painfully.

Screw this, I need her NOW, Wonwoo thinks and he slowly pulls your arm off the pillow, pushes your hair back and starts kissing your neck, all while his hand caresses your back. The corner of his mouth twitches in a smile when you're finally stirred awake, a shaky exhale leaving your lips.

"W-Wonwoo?", you open your eyes, trying to accomodate to the sunlight, but you don't really need your eyesight to realize that half of your boyfriend's body is on top of your back and ass, his boner poking your thigh.

"'m so sorry babe, so sorry, but I couldn't help it", he groans in his usual deep voice and you feel a shiver cross your spine. "Can you please put up with it for a little? Please?", he whines and you giggle at his unusually needy behaviour, but you decide to cut him some slack this time.

"Go on baby, use me like you want", you rasp and Wonwoo immediately climbs on top of you, wasting zero time to hump his clothed bulge against your perky ass. "Fuck, you're wonderful, sweetheart, thank you", he lowers his head in the crook of your neck, hands gripping your waist to keep you in place.

His hips are erratic and uncoordinated, he's unable to keep his moans in check and his lips being right next to your ear don't help with the pooling heat in your panties at all. But you don't give a single fuck about it - you only want to make your boyfriend feel good.

"God, Y/N, you're so good to me, baby", Wonwoo moans again in your ear and you moan in response, pushing your ass back on his clothed cock. His hands are tight on your skin, but also gentle enough to not leave marks.

"Wait, lemme turn around", you tap his side and he lifts himself on his hands, giving you enough space to lay on your back and bring him down on you with your legs around his waist. You moan in unison once his clothed bulge comes in contact with your lace-covered cunt, and he brings his hands on top of yours, lacing his fingers with yours.

You can almost feel the outline of his tip nudging your covered clit, the fabric of his boxers providing enough friction for the both of you to moan out loud and hump each other like your lives depend on it.

You're snapped out of whatever trance you were once Wonwoo lets out a nearly animalistic sound and he collapses on top of you, his breath fanning over your skin. You can feel a certain dampness between your legs and you initially assume that it's from your pussy - but you realize that Wonwoo came in his boxers.

"Good morning to you too, birthday boy".

"Wonwoo?", "Please don't say anything", he says with a whine, embarrassment settling in after the realization hits him. You laugh at his flushed face and press a kiss on his lips, hands looping around his neck and playing with the soft blue hairs on his nape.

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Author's note: Happy birthday to the man who pulled me in the diamond life and makes every day of my life better💕

#wonwoo smut #wonwoo fluff #svt wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #svt smut #svt fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfics #seventeen