#and sometimes he stops and pulls back and gets shy about how much you mean to him and how bad he wants you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cupid-styles · 5 days

Note

bodyguardrry x stripper!y/n?

pink pony club

in which harry is a bodyguard at the club y/n dances at

word count: 2.8k

content warnings: spicy content, minor violence, a small unwanted touching scene, smut (thigh riding, spitting, dirty talk, breast play, one "sir" mention, minor slapping......I think that's it gkdfjgkjd)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

Harry doesn’t care much about his job.

He’s not all that interested in working night shifts that start at 8:30 p.m. and don’t end until 4 a.m. He’s not tempted by the constant flow of alcohol, the endless lines of powder that decorate the bartop and booth tables, and the half — and sometimes fully — naked girls that make their money by twirling around oiled up stripper poles and sweet-talking businessmen.

His job as a bodyguard is simply a means to an end. A paycheck. A way to survive.

Unless Y/N is working.

The second she started at Pink Pony Club, it felt as if his world brightened up. She emitted an effervescent pink hue everywhere she went, bathing Harry in it with her bright smile and sweet eyes. He’s always kept a special eye on her — while he didn’t care for the logistics of his job, he took the safety of the dancers seriously, and Y/N was no exception. In fact, maybe she was the exception.

He was the only dancer he watched. She was the only one he spoke to. His pretty, shy, pink girl.

When she took one-on-one dances in the Red Room, he was the guard she asked to accompany her. He never minded. No, he dropped everything to be there with her, even if it meant standing there stoically, watching as she grinded on the lap of a man that would tip her too little.

If it were him, he would never take her perfect presence for granted.

He would sit back and let her take her time. Shower her in every compliment his brain could churn out. He’d comply with the strict no touching rule, but god, if his hands wouldn’t tremble at his sides. He’d have to sit on them to stop himself from doing something stupid.

Sometimes, it’s what he wished those grimy men would do. Like this piece of shit, who’s been shelling out hundred after hundred dollar bills to keep Y/N locked away in the Red Room all night. It’s been hours and the guy can barely keep his head up straight. From Harry’s spot in front of the door, he can tell Y/N’s tired and in need of a break. And when the song comes to a crawling end, he’s ready to step in and tell the guy to get lost, but he’s already digging in his pocket for his wallet. Harry grits his teeth as he watches Y/N’s shoulders fall.

“Another one,” the idiot mutters, stuffing three hundred dollars in the waistband of her panties. Y/N jerks away from his touch and the man stills, flashing her a confused expression. “What? I’ve paid you your entire yearly salary tonight and I can’t put some fuckin’ money in your panties?”

Harry’s fists ball up at his sides, already taking heavy strides towards them as Y/N’s mumbling out, “you’re not allowed to touch the girls.”

“Oh, give me a fuckin’ break,” he wails, sending a look of disbelief to Harry, as if he should agree with him. “This girl’s a cocktease!”

Harry snorts and Y/N shuffles off the man’s lap. He stands in front of her, creating a physical barrier between the two.

“You heard her, you’re not allowed to touch any of the girls. Doesn’t matter how much money you’ve paid.” Harry says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you gonna get lost or are we gonna have a problem?”

The guy rolls his eyes. “You’re telling me you’re always here watching over this one and you’ve never once copped a feel? She’s out with her fuckin’ ass and tits out and you—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish whatever disgusting sentence was coming out of his mouth because Harry’s already pulling him up by the shirt collar. The guy yelps as Harry’s strong grip yanks him off the couch and he scoffs, resisting the urge to spit in his face.

“Disgusting piece of shit.” he mutters, throwing him up against the maroon velvet wall. “You know that? You think you can fucking talk about her like she’s some kind of object?”

“She’s a stripper!” he exclaims, raising his hands up in mock defense.

“I don’t fucking care,” Harry growls, “She could be an escort for all I care, but you don’t touch anyone without their fucking permission. Especially her. Do you fucking hear me?”

“Yeah, man, whatever! It’s all good, I promise!”

“Oh, it’s all good?” he mocks, keeping him pushed up against the wall with his hand up against his chest. His other arm cocks back and his hand forms a tight fist, his knuckles white as hot adrenaline courses through his veins. He’s ready to beat this guy until he’s unrecognizable — until he hears it.

A small, quiet whimper of his name.

Immediately, he turns around. Y/N stands behind him, looking small and helpless with glassy eyes. Again, she repeats his name. “Harry,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s not worth it, I don’t wanna lose my job. Just let him go.”

And just like that, he does.

He lowers his fist, his hand unfurls around the cheap fabric of his button-up, and he’s free to go, scrambling out of the Red Room before Harry has the chance to tell the other bodyguards to escort him out. But he doesn’t care. All he cares about is the teary eyed girl with trembling fingers.

“Baby,” he breathes, fear surging through his chest as he wraps a tender arm around her waist. He sits onto the crushed velvet bench and pulls her into his lap, keeping a soothing hand placed at the small of her waist. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

She quickly shakes her head, allowing the tears to flow a bit more freely now. “I-I’m okay. Just scary.”

“I know,” he mumbles, biting his lip. “Was it— did I scare you?”

“No, no. I know you were just… trying to protect me.” she says softly, blinking her eyes at him.

“I was, sweetheart. I promise. I would never do anything to hurt or scare you.”

She nods. “I know.”

“How much longer do you have left of your shift? I can take you home. You shouldn’t be working when you’re upset.”

Y/N glances down at the watch around Harry’s wrist, nibbling on her bottom lip as she thinks. It’s already 2, which means the club closes in less than three hours.

“Just another hour. I can make it,” she replies as she straightens her posture in his grasp. “I’m just… I don’t think I’m ready to go back out there yet.”

“That’s fine. We can stay here as long as you’d like.” And he’d certainly knock out anyone who threatened to give her shit for it.

They sit in silence for a bit and Harry keeps a protective arm looped around her waist the entire time, drawing soft circles into her exposed hip. He feels relief at knowing that she doesn’t express discomfort at being in his arms and frankly, if it were up to him, she’d never leave them.

Harry’s torn from his thoughts when she runs her fingers over the expanse of tattoos that cover his arms. Glancing down, he watches as her manicured nails slowly float from the anchor on his wrist all the way up to the ship on his bicep. He swallows, staying impossibly still as she analyzes the ink. Eventually, she lands on the cursive A on his shoulder.

“Girlfriend?” she asks, peering up at him. He shakes his head.

“Mum,” he murmurs, “Do you have any tattoos?”

Y/N nods. “One.”

Harry’s tongue peeks out to moisten his lips as he maintains heavy-lidded eye contact with her. He’s seen nearly every bit of her skin and prickles form in his stomach, thinking about where her hidden tattoo could be.

“What is it?”

Slowly, she shifts off of his lap to stand in front of him. Using deft fingertips to peel the waistband of her lacey lingerie down, she reveals a simple red rose inked into her skin, just above where her mound begins. Harry swallows harshly at the sight.

“Do you like it?”

Harry huffs out a laugh. “Gorgeous.” he mumbles.

“I was thinking about getting another one,” she breathes as she shimmies the fabric just a bit lower. She taps the small patch of skin across from the rose. “An H, maybe.”

“That would be a silly decision, sweetheart,” he says lowly, leaning back against the bench and spreading his legs a little wider. “You don’t want an initial for the guy who beats up idiot losers.”

“I do, though. I love knowing you’re there to protect me.” she replies. Briskly, she climbs back into his lap, this time straddling his waist and placing her knees on either side of him. As if on instinct, he wraps his arms around her to steady her, pressing one palm to the back of her thigh.

“I’ll always be there to protect you,” he mumbles, chest tightening as she leans closer. Her lips are centimeters away and it makes his breath catch in his throat. His throat bobs as he swallows, angling his head ever so slightly to minimize the small gap between them, and then he whispers: “Stop me if it’s too much.”

“It’s not,” she’s so close to him that her breath ghosts over his plush lips, “Kiss me. Please.”

That’s all he needs to seal their lips, her shaky hands finding purchase at the back of his neck. It feels so special to have her hands on him as their lips meld; slowly at first, and then she’s straightening her back to push her chest forward, desperate to be closer, closer, closer.

It feels like their only source of oxygen is coming from one another. Harry’s hands grip her ass firmly, squeezing the plump skin in his palms. He’s content with keeping things here at a steady PG-13 level until her wet mouth breaks away for just a moment, only long enough to murmur, “touch me, I need it.”

A groan oscillates from his throat as his hands travel down to her neck, her shoulders, her chest, and then finally her breasts. His hands find the covered peaks of her nipples and she inhales sharply, shuddering beneath his touch. He smirks as he settles on the right side of her chest, using his thumb to gently brush over her nipple. She straightens her spine and leans into the sensation as he slowly rubs it back and forth.

"Always gonna keep you safe. You know that?” Harry mumbles into her mouth, licking at the seam of her lips. Her eyes squeeze shut and her thighs threaten to close around his wide, spread legs. “Uh-huh,” she nearly whines. He swallows as he watches her, noticing her quick descent into desperation. He gives her nipple a soft squeeze before quickly pausing to unhook her bra and toss it to the floor. He resumes his teasing just a moment later, leaning forward and attaching his lips to the hard bud. A quiet, shaky mewl falls from her swollen lips. He parts with a pop but only to spit messily onto the peak. She gasps when he takes her nipple into his mouth again, hissing as he bites the skin. It’s not hard or long enough to elicit any real pain, just a sweet sizzle in her stomach that makes her tug at the curled ends of his hair. He chuckles softly at her reaction before licking over the bite and tucking the bud back between his lips. Once he’s gotten his fix, he removes his hand from her breast and moves it up to her mouth. "Open." he commands. As if under a spell, her bottom lip drops open and Harry pushes two of his fingers inside, pressing them down against her tongue. "Dirty little mouth, hm?" He murmurs. She nods submissively and he grins, "Suck." She closes her lips, encasing his long fingers in her mouth as she begins to slowly bob up and down, taking them further. His fingertips make contact with her throat, eliciting a short gag as the muscles contract slightly around them. Quickly, he removes them. "Did I hurt you?" She shakes her head and reaches up to wipe away some of the drool that had escaped her mouth. "No. I like it." "Are you lying, baby?" He asks, moving her hair over her shoulder, "This isn't fun for me if you're just doing what you think I want." "I'm not lying, I promise. I like it." Harry's lips curl into a smirk. "Tell me what else you like, then." As she opens her mouth, he shifts his thigh between her legs, the muscles flexing firmly against her core. She gasps, though Harry pretends like he hadn't done anything, instead nodding at her shortly; an encouragement to follow his directions. "I like gagging on your fingers." She whines as he begins to move his thigh back and forth, just slow enough to create some friction between their bodies. "Yeah? What else do you like?" "You," she whimpers, gently rocking her hips against his jean-clad thigh, "When you keep me safe.” "Ah, my pretty baby likes feeling protected?” She nods as she begins to quicken my movements. He stills her hips but before she has a chance to whine about it, he mumbles out a "budge up, baby" so he can slip her panties off her legs. She resists the urge to hiss at the contact, her stomach tightening at the feeling of his thigh muscle against her. For a moment, he inspects the sodden underwear, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You made quite the mess in these, baby. What got you so turned on?” She swallows harshly, her chest shaky. “Y-you. Seeing you threaten that guy for me.” He smirks but decides to leave it at that, feeling the desperate warmth radiating from her core. "Go 'head," he mumbles, leaning back. "Let me see you use me." She feels her hole contract at his words, mentally cringing as he chuckles. He feels how needy she is and he absolutely loves it. Slowly, she starts to grind against his thigh, holding in pathetic whimpers at the solid surface making contact with her clit. Harry tsks when he notices her roll her lips into her mouth. She looks down as he moves his hand towards her lower half, momentarily excited that he’ll pet at her the way she’s craving. The dream is short lived when he parts her pussy lips instead to look at the wet mess between them. "Don't hide your sounds," he scolds, pressing the pad of his fingertip to her clit, rolling it in small circles. "They're too pretty.”

She nods, prepared to continue her movements when she gasps out in surprise. Harry had delivered a swift slap to her clit — not painful enough to ask him to stop, but just enough to deliver a sizzling sensation to her core. "Tell me you'll moan for me." "I will, sir," she whines, rutting helplessly against his hand. He smirks and pinches the skin at her inner thigh before nodding again, a wordless order to continue. Hesitantly, she rocks her hips, building up a slow and intentional pace that hits her clit at the perfect angle. She’s dripping now, embarrassingly so, and making a mess both between their legs and on Harry's, but she’s too turned on to care. There’s something about knowing he’s watching her get off and doing exactly what he asks of her that sends her to another dimension. It’s not long before she feels a familiar tightening in her stomach. They’d built each other up and up and up, teasing one another until they could barely stand it, so she’s not surprised when her muscles started to clench, pathetic gasps falling from her swollen lips. "Is my good girl gonna cum?" Harry teases from beneath her. She nods jerkily, her nails digging into his stomach. "Let me see. Cum all over my leg, baby. Make a mess." Harry's dirty talk is finally what does her in. With a few more rocks of her hips, she’s in heaven, whimpering out calls of his name as she peaks. He holds her hips to keep me on his leg as she bounces helplessly through her orgasm, her eyes slowly blinking open to find a smirk on his face when she finally begins coming down. "You're heaven sent, y'know that?" he mumbles. Y/N laughs breathily as she shakes her head, her blushy gaze falling to his lap. He thumbs at her bottom lip and gently nudges her chin up. “Lemme take you home tonight,” he whispers, cupping her cheek in his palm, “I wanna take care of you.” She nods. “Yeah, okay. You’ll wait for me to finish my shift?” “Of course,” he murmurs as he presses his forehead against hers. “Always.”

930 notes · View notes

ywuji · 1 month

Note

Omg so like I want to hear your thoughts on perv!Megumi like finally after so long of Gojo teasing him for being in college for two years at this point and being single, he’s finally procured a pretty girlfriend who’s unfortunately (for her) so naive and sweet??🩷💕 Idk I got shy but I know you’ll do something good with this lol

ik i told u id post this after my wips but i started on it n i couldnt stop i liked the idea too much LOL im sorry for being so confusing D; tysm for the ask though!!! :o i rlly enjoyed writing this!!! (n don’t be shy ahjwhs you’re so lovely T_T♡)

perv!megumi !!! please i feel like he’s the type to be a pervert that’s kinda embarrassed n self aware about himself—especially bc gojo kept teasing him all those years n he was kinda just jacking off to whatever x-rated video that came up first (i feel like perv!megumi is highkey into hentai too but he’s taking that to the grave!!)

n when gets a pretty little girlfriend who acts so cute and who he loves so much, when he gets hard he can’t help but let some of that side of him slip out from time to time...

i think he’s also the type to take lots of pictures,, like pictures while you sleep, peeking through your door while you shower, in clothing store changing rooms while you change, upskirt pictures… he’ll make you his little model!! some of them you know about but some of them you don’t, he’s so lewd.

it’s not just pics of you he takes, it's some of himself too. i feel like one of the things he’d love to do to you is when you tell him to come with you to some random uni event, n he’ll randomly disappear in the middle of it, only to go to the bathroom to take pictures of his hard leaky cock to send you with some casual caption like he didn’t just do that ?!?! he’s crazy (more under the cut)

it’s not megumi’s fault he’s so in his head about you, he still just doesn’t really know how he managed to get someone as pretty and doting as you are as his.

he sometimes feels guilty for being so obsessed with you—your body clad in pretty little outfits that you show off to him with a twirl, the way you’ll always show him your shiny new sparkly nails when you get them done, how he’s always the first one you’ll pick to talk to about something new you’ve found to love—it’s all that seems to be on his mind recently.

maybe it was gojo’s accidental doing, those feelings of guilt. unintentionally planting a little growing seed of shame in him the first few times he started teasing him for not having a partner yet at his ‘big age’, borderline lecturing him with the ‘when i was your age’ stuff—maybe that was the logical reason why he felt so attached to you, the reason he couldn’t help getting fully erect even when he only saw as much as a pair of your flung-away panties lying at the edge of your bed when coming to your room one day.

but when he recalls back to those nights where you’re innocently cuddled against him, watching whatever movie, a quiet ‘megumi?’ leaving your lips as a sign to tell him you’re falling asleep, and he finds himself shifting in his seat, carefully adjusting your head to let you rest comfortably on him, pressing a soft kiss to your hair as he strokes it and tells you a ‘sleep now, angel’, he knows that’s not the reason.

nevertheless, he’s always been worried about it, thoughts of ‘am i doing too much?’ or a ‘would she not like this?’ clouding his mind. but for every single thought like this he has, he’ll always have two more memories where he’s coming up to you, his sweet-faced little girlfriend, waiting for him with open arms and open heart. and to him, it means more than the world.

and as his cheerful sweetheart girlfriend, you’ve never really minded of course.

you know he’s at least a little perverted, asking to take those pictures of you trying on your new swimsuits, or bras, or skirts, or those times when he pulls out after spilling his load into you, and the first thing he does after making sure you’re okay is to go face-to-face with the trail of cum seeping out of you to snap a few photos.

honestly, you’ve gotten used to it at this point. you just take these moments, seeing what you do to him, as a way of reassuring yourself that he really does just love you that much. and he really does. really!! :(

no matter how innocent or dirty the context, he’ll let you know whenever he gets that warm little feeling in his chest.

“i-i love you,” he pants, head coming up from sucking marks on your neck, languid thrusts coming to a gentle stop as he peers up at you with flushed cheeks. it feels like he’s admitting it for the first time again.

when you stare at him with his same love-drunk look, brows furrowed and eyes pleading, whispering out an “i love you too, gumi”, he’ll pause a moment to study your expression before gently raising you further up the bed, hooking his hand under your leg and repositioning it around his waist.

he’ll drop down to press a kiss to your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder and picking up the pace again, now only determined to make you cum.

when he thinks of times like these, despite what you’re doing together, it’s innocent in his head.

a time where that’s not so much the case though is when you persuade him to come with you to some uni exhibition event, looking up at him with hopeful, doe-like eyes and as many ‘pleeeaaase, gumi’s and ‘please, guuuum’s as you could muster—cause it’s not like he could say no to that, right?

at first he put up an act of feign stubbornness. but eventually he agreed—only when he knew you’d excitedly hug him and press your soft chest to his as a thank you for it though.

he’d tour the hall with you, watching you gaze in awe at everything with your cute, simple curiosity, occasionally pointing out little things in the pieces he liked. before the artist began their talk though, he got up from his seat, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before muttering a “‘m g’na go to the bathroom.”

in an empty stall, he’ll sit atop the lid and pull down his jeans, freeing his stiffening cock from his underwear. he quietly groans as he pumps himself a few times, a slow trickle of translucent white leaking down from his tip.

he silently curses, throwing his head back, thinking about how you let him flip up your pretty skirt before you left, letting him take a peek at your cute ass in the frilly panties he bought for you.

he reaches for his phone, fumbling to send a picture of the sight to you, adding a casual caption of something like ‘hi pretty girl’ or ‘u look so pretty today, angel’.

he pauses, realising that maybe you won’t see it for a little while. he’s imagining you so obediently listening to the artist speaker to notice the ping of his notification—he enjoys that thought too, but he can’t say why.

he’s careful not to thrust up into his fist, not wanting to make too much noise, but it’s futile—he’s too hard staring at the lewd shots of you saved in his secret hidden album—the way you act so innocently, the way you have no clue what the true extent is of what you do to him. he can’t help but let a few breathy whines slip.

he won’t let himself cum though, thinking he’s too good to be letting himself release over some scrunched up, bathroom tissue when he’s got his own pretty little girlfriend waiting for him a few halls down.

he sighs. cleaning up and tucking himself back into the band of his briefs, leaving the stall and washing his hands, walking back out like nothing happened.

#ywuji #this is so long n so rambly HAHEHW #i rlly had fun writing this tho #i wld love to write more :00 #the last part is For Sure tacked onto the end but i wanted to include it bc i talked abt it alr Lol #apologies U_U #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro smut #fushiguro smut #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi headcanons #fushiguro headcanons #jjk smut #jjk thirsts #jjk x reader #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

906 notes · View notes

giannaln4 · 2 months

Text

Away For Valentine's

lando norris x fem reader

summary: McLaren had the fantastic idea to launch their car on Valentine's day, and as much as you reassured Lando he didn't have to worry about it, he still wanted to make it up to you (1k words)

warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: heyy everyone! so this is the very first fic i'm posting so please let me know what you think! i'm honestly pretty excited to get started with this blog so hopefully you guys like what i write. anyway please send some ideas my way!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

Valentine’s Day was off the table this year, and so was everything you had planned for you and your boyfriend.

You were disappointed when he shared the news with you, but you couldn’t be mad at him, not when it wasn’t his fault.

He saw the disappointment in your face, and how much you were trying to hide it by just smiling and nodding, your head finding a spot on his shoulder to avoid eye contact. He appreciated you understanding the situation, like you always did, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel guilty.

“I know we had plans-”

“Lan, don’t worry about it” You took a deep breath before looking at him again, trying to get rid of the sadness in your face “I mean it, we can do that some other time”

He was about to say something but a quick kiss on the lips stopped him. You proceeded to look at him, offering him a small smile and a glance that he knew meant ‘I don’t wanna talk about it’, so just nodded as he smiled back.

A few weeks go by and his winter break was coming to an end, meaning soon he’d have to leave the comfort of your shared home and go get started with his preseason duties. That’s something you were used to, having to see him leave for long periods of times but it barely ever affected your relationship. He always made sure he made enough time for you, even when the time difference was huge and he was feeling tired most of the time, he needed to make time for you. Your love for each other was so strong that, at the end of the day, you were just relieved you still had each other even if all you had was a five minute call every day.

But still, sometimes it was hard to see him go, and this time was one of those times.

The night you knew would be your last one with him before he left he decided to take you out on a date. Fancy clothes and an even fancier restaurant were your plans for the evening, and you knew he was trying to make up for Valentine's Day. It wasn’t the same, of course it wasn’t, but you still enjoyed every second of it.

The food, the small talk, the jokes, the stupid stories, the shy glances, the small touches, everything was perfect, almost making you forget he was getting on a plane in a matter of hours, but your smile slowly faded as soon as you remembered.

The ride back home was quieter than he would’ve liked, but he knew exactly what was going through your mind, and honestly he couldn’t blame you cause his mind was flooded with the same thoughts.

As soon as you got home he ran around the car and opened the door for you, offering his hand and kissing yours as soon as he took it. You smiled softly at him and you made your way to the door. Once you were inside, you dropped his hand to take off your shoes and tossed them somewhere close to the door, sighing in relief as you started walking towards your room.

“Mhm, come back here” He whispered as he grabbed your hand and pulled you back into him

“There you are” Lando smiled softly at you as his lips found yours. After a moment he broke the kiss, and both of his hands found a better spot on your waist as he started to move along the off-tune song he started to hum. You couldn’t contain your smile, quickly trying to keep up with him. You moved together in a slow dance, it was like your bodies were in perfect harmony.

Lando was looking down at you in pure admiration, almost as if he was trying to memorize every centimeter of your face so he wouldn't forget it while he was away, but you didn’t dare to look up, scared you would make eye contact with Lando and you wouldn’t be able to take it, so you safe option was to rest your head on his chest and pray you didn’t mess up. Although it wouldn’t matter if you did, you were just in the comfort of your living room anyway. But you didn’t wanna mess up.

He eventually stopped humming, hoping the silence would encourage you to look at him, but when you didn’t he moved one of his hands to cup your check, making you look at him. For a moment your eyes lock, making the silence feel very loud and Lando couldn’t help but smile at you, and you immediately blushed, but tried to play it off.

“You’re a terrible dancer” He laughed and you narrowed your eyes playfully and softly hit his shoulder.

“You’re one to talk” You joked, locking your fingers behind his neck and giggling when Lando scoffed.

“Maybe we should go out to dance and I could show you all of my moves” He started to move again, bringing you closer to him.

“I thought you didn’t like slow dancing”

“I do if I get to hold you this close to me” He replied, once again finding your lips.

This time the kiss was longer, both of them savoring each other’s lips while they still had the chance “I’m sorry about Valentine’s” He whispered once he pulled away, your forehead resting on his.

You giggled at this. You had assured him a million times he didn’t have to worry about that, and he still apologized every time he remembered “You need to stop apologizing”

“But I am sorry”

“I know, but it’s not your fault” You hand fell on his hair, slowly stroking his soft curls “And I had a great time tonight, so I’d say love is not dead”

He laughed at his, dimples appearing as his eyes vanish for a moment “I still wanna make it up to you”

“You will” You replied as your head fell back on his chest “But for now I just wanna enjoy this” You closed your eyes and inhaled his scent, and after a moment of complete silence you can feel him start moving again, his soft hums interrupting the peace his heartbeat was giving you.

#giannaln4 writes #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris one shot #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader

680 notes · View notes

erwinsvow · 3 days

Note

what abt shy!reader sleeping over at rafes for the first time?? 😊😊

you'd been so nervous, slathering way too much frosting onto chocolate cupcakes while rafe told you the agenda he'd planned for tonight's date. in between mentions of dinner at this restaurant he liked on the water and stopping to get some ice cream before the outdoor movie, he'd thrown in a sentence that made your heart thud in your chest.

"unless you wanna come watch a movie here. we can eat all this crap you jus' made." you look up, butter knife almost slipping out of your hand.

"watch a movie.. here?"

"yeah. couch's comfy. got enough dessert to get a cavity. you can sleep over. how's that sound?"

it sounded terrifying. this was a milestone, one you needed several days and a new set of pajamas to prepare for. rafe looks down at your worried eyes, knitted eyebrows. you set down the cupcake before you drop it.

"sleep over?" you repeat it softly.

"snap out of it, kid. you don't have to." though the words feel like they should be mean, they're not. spoken with a sweetness you often found yourself wondering came naturally to your boyfriend, or if you brought it out in him. you hope for both.

"no, i want to," you correct quickly, blinking fast. "um, can you bring me home to get my stuff?"

"yeah. before dinner."

you turn back to your cupcakes with a smile, one that he stares at while you finish up. true to his word, he brings you home—you drop off a few sweets for your parents, give your kitten a treat while you pack a quick bag and grab your toothbrush. you don't change for dinner, keeping the pretty dress on until he gets you back into his bedroom later that night.

you've brought clothes to sleep in, but you hover in front of rafe's dresser still, working up the nerve to ask for one of his shirts to wear to bed. you can't seem to find it, deciding just to wear your pajamas, no matter how silly they are, when rafe opens the drawer and pulls out two shirts. he hands you one.

"get changed. m'gonna go change in the bathroom. be right back." you think you'd marry the boy if he asked right now—he seems to know your every thought before you can even finish thinking it, or figure out how to articulate it.

when rafe comes back you're a vision in one of his old frat shirts, playing with your hair while you sit on the foot of his bed.

"ready to sleep?" he asks, and you look up from your knees, smiling at him the way he wish you wouldn't sometimes, the way that makes his chest hurt with the amount of love pouring through your pretty eyes.

"what about dessert?" you ask with a laugh, smiling bigger when he rolls his eyes.

"haven't you had enough? how do you still have teeth?"

"i floss."

"shut up. get in bed." you crawl under his covers, inhaling the way everything smells like him. you lay your head down on one of his pillows, staring when he gets in next to you. "you okay?"

you love that he asks, that he cares enough to make sure.

"yeah. i'm okay."

"good. get some sleep." he doesn't say anything, but he still brings you in close to his chest, head on top of his heart, an arm around you, legs tangled together. when he thinks you're asleep, you hear the quiet sound.

"night, kid."

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #this was very sweet and self indulgent #i hope you like it but i feel like i wrote it for me ajwjsfh #love u guys #shy reader

725 notes · View notes

leclerc-hs · 23 days

Text

tachycardia! pt. 1 - cl16

pairing: doctor!charles leclerc x nurse!reader (alpha/omega au) summary: in which you don't always get along with the arrogant alpha doctor warnings: LIGHT a/b/o dynamics, angst??, none really (yet!), badly translated french, NOT PROOFREAD word count: 1.7k author's note: hi so this is the first part!! I'm thinking about turning this into like a "blurb" series, like i'll do a bunch of parts with them but they won't be toooooo long. emphasis on the LIGHT a/b/o dynamics because i am STILL leaning all about it but I'm sure the more I write the better with it I will get. I def will discuss more about it during smut scenes. let me know what you guys think and what else you would like to see happen between them!! don't be shy!!! xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

IT WASN’T HATRED, per se, but more so the fact that you both knew how to get under each other’s skin so easily.

The amount of time it took for Doctor Leclerc to make some sort of asshole comment as you entered the doors of the hospital was little to none. It was almost a predetermined ritual at this point. So common that you should’ve been more concerned with the premise that he might’ve memorized your schedule just so it’s his face you see first thing every time you arrive to work.

You had made a solemn vow to yourself long ago never to become romantically involved with a doctor. Any doctor for that matter. The allure of dating a doctor might have seemed appealing in theory, but they tended to exude an air of pretentiousness, rudeness, and arrogance that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Doctor Leclerc was what you would consider the living embodiment of this, a constant reminder of the vows you made in the first place. Yet, the fact that he was probably the hottest fucking man you have ever seen, made it hard to not want to blur the lines sometimes. His chiseled features and commanding presence were sometimes a magnetic force, no matter how much he annoyed you.

So, you wonder why, even as you’re leaned against the nurse’s station with an elbow propped on it, you can’t help but stare at the muscles of his back poking through his scrubs and white coat, as he pours a cup of coffee into his mug. His massive shoulders rising and falling as he picks the coffee pot up and places it back down.

“Did he say something to you?” You ask as you press a tissue into the hands of one of your co-workers, April. You didn’t know that well, but nurses stuck together regardless.

“I’m fine,” she says, but the tears welling up in her eyes, made you know better. “I just need to stop being so sensitive.” The words hang in the air, a fragile façade masking the turmoil within, and you recognize the weight of her emotions despite her attempt to downplay them.

“He must have been a proper douche,” you remark, the water from the bathroom sink running over your hands as you meet April’s gaze through the mirror. “What did he do?” Your tone carries a mix of concern and frustration.

Her hesitance to disclose wasn’t rooted in desire to withhold information, but rather in a reluctance to escalate the situation unnecessarily. Aware of your tendency to stand up to Doctor Leclerc, she treaded cautiously. You turned back around to face her, an eyebrow raised as if you’re saying spill the beans already.

“Well,” she begins, her grip tightening on the crumpled tissue in her fist, “all I did was ask if the symptom the patient was experiencing was a common side effect of the medication we prescribed her, just to be sure.” You cross your arms over your chest, you can feel the agitation growing in your chest. “He wasn’t mean in front of the patient, but he pulled me aside after and told me how unprofessional it is to be questioning in front of a patient.” Her voice wavers with a mix of frustration and hurt.

Your lips press into a thin line as she recounts the encounter. “He then told me that I should’ve paid better attention in school and then maybe I would know the answer,” she emphasizes, tinged with a hint of bitterness. The word “maybe” lingers in the air, weighted with insinuation, as if Doctor Leclerc’s implication stung deeper than mere criticism.

“What an alpha asshole!” you exclaim, your frustration evident in the forceful wave of your hands. “Don’t listen to him.” You offer her comfort, a smile of reassurance accompanying your words, a silent vow to stand by her side.

April’s lips curl upward into a small, grateful smile, her eyes softening as she murmurs a heartfelt “thanks”. In that moment, her expression speaks volumes, conveying both appreciation for your support and glimmer of relief.

You saw him before he saw you.

As you step through the doorway into one of your patient’s rooms, a pang of exasperation washes over you, accompanied by the silent question of what you did to deserve this particular form of punishment. It feels like a cruel twist of fate to find Doctor Leclerc attending to one of your patients, whom had just recently had a coronary angioplasty and a stent placement. Despite the urge to roll your eyes, you summon all your professionalism and force one of the biggest smiles onto your face. It’s a façade of warmth and cooperation, masking the internal tension brewing beneath the surface.

There he stood, a figure of authority on the opposite end of the bed, his arms folded across his chest as he chuckled at whatever anecdote your patient shared with him. His laughter, though genuine, seemed to echo with a hint of superiority. You can’t help but notice the subtle flex of his jaw muscles as his head tilts back briefly. The sight of his scruff and the contours of his muscular neck send a tingling sensation coursing through you.

You need to snap out of it! You repeat to yourself, a silent mantra echoing in your mind. You were so preoccupied with convincing yourself that Doctor Leclerc wasn’t unbelievably attractive that you failed to notice the scrutiny of two pairs of eyes now fixed upon you. The sudden realization jolts you back to the present, and you redirect your focus to the patient.

You didn’t need to glance at Doctor Leclerc to sense the presence of a smirk tugging at his lips; it was almost palpable, a silent acknowledgement that he had caught you staring at him. Distracted by him.

“Glad you can join us, mon lapin.” My bunny.

You narrowed your eyes at him, a flicker of irritation igniting within you. That forsaken nickname—he just couldn’t resist. Ever since your first day, when you innocently showed up with a tote bag adorned with colorful bunnies, he had taken great delight in teasing you with it.

“Ne m’appele pas comme ça.” Don’t call me that.

The patient looked up at both of you, eyes full of delight in entertainment.

His verdant eyes look at you for a few seconds, contemplating something, before looking back at the patient. “I’ll make sure you’re out of here in no time,” he assures the patient, his voice full of warmth. “I just need to check your vitals, and hopefully we can have you out here in a few days.” His words are reassuring, delivered with a blend of confidence and empathy that contrasts with the earlier tension in the room. Despite your reservations, you can’t deny that he provides great care for his patients.

“How has your medication been? Still uncomfortable?” You inquire, while Doctor Leclerc listens intently to your patient’s chest with his stethoscope.

“A little bit,” your patient murmurs in response, pausing between deep breaths as instructed by Doctor Leclerc.

“I’ll make sure you get another dose of aspirin to help ease the pain.” You promise with a tight-lipped smile as Doctor Leclerc removes the stethoscope from his ears.

“I think we need to reconsider the dosage,” you assert, meeting Doctor Leclerc’s gaze.

“We don’t want to risk any adverse effects.” His eyes, a much darker hue of green now, narrow at you, like he can’t believe you’re telling him what to do. “I’ve already adjusted his medication. It’s within the recommended for his condition.”

He shifts his focus back to the patient, the darkness and annoyance that once clouded his eyes now dissipating. “Everything is looking great! I’ll check on you tomorrow morning,” he reassures the patient with a warm smile before bidding his farewells. As he turns to you, nodding toward the doorway, his demeanor shifts, and a lethal glare meets your gaze. Without a word, you follow him out the room, bracing yourself. You refuse to cower, meeting his glare with a steely resolve of your own. Each step you take alongside him is a silent assertion.

His touch on your elbow sends a jolt of tingles to your stomach as he swiftly turns you around, your back now pressed firmly against the wall. His gaze pierces through you with a lethal intensity.

“Que pensez-vous faire?” What do you think you’re doing? He pinched the bridge of his nose in between his pointer finger and thumb, with his eyes scrunched as if he got a splitting headache in the span of one second. Like he was in pain. Did you know how strong you scent was? He wondered mindlessly, almost forgetting why he was so mad at you in the first place.

You thought nothing of his actions, too busy feeling the anger swell in the pit of your stomach.

Your eyes roll in exasperation, and your eyebrows knit together in annoyance at the audacity of this man.

His eyes meet your again and can’t help but think how beautiful you look, even when angry. How he would just love to bend you over his knee and remind you who is in charge.

“Je veille sur mon patient.” I’m looking out for my patient.

He rests his hands on his hips, stealing a glance at his beeping pager before fixing his gaze back on you. His eyes, nearly black, pierce through you. “Non, tu essaies juste de provoquer une dispute comme d’habitude,” You’re just trying to start an argument as usual. He grits through clenched teeth. “His medication is completely fine, et tu le sais!” And you know it!

So, maybe you were trying to start an argument with him. Especially after April’s crying face came to your mind.

He’s so close that you can hardly think around his scent. It’s almost intoxicating.

“Don’t ever make April cry again.” You jab your finger into his shoulder, reminding yourself why you’re here in the first place.

He blinks, and you catch the glimmer of recognition spreading across his features. “Elle n’a aucun courage” She has no spine. He remarks before continuing, “She should learn from you. You probably have spare spines.” He steps back from you before striding down the hallway in opposite direction of the nurse’s station.

No matter how annoyed you were, you couldn't peel your eyes off his muscular back until he was completely out of sight. You scoffed at yourself. How pathetic am I? You questioned yourself repeatedly until you take in his last words to you.

Did he just make a joke?

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine

626 notes · View notes

vampiresbloodx · 17 days

Text

(a series or more of a au between you and librarian!Wanda. Legal age gap, mentions of smut, soft fluff, pinning, lots of pinning, I usually don't write any specific gender for reader ((same goes with physical appearance, but I will slip up sometimes and I apologise)) though sometimes I might mention their clothes, if it may be a skirt, pants etc. And if it's smut I'll always tag it.)

After older!Librarian!Wanda kisses you for the first time, she can't stop thinking about your lips.

How perfect they feel against hers, how she forgets about everything around her and only just focuses on you. She never really enjoyed the way her ex husband kissed her, it wasn't all that pleasant. He was a bit forced, quick, Wanda wanted more than that, even if you're going to work, a quick kiss can still mean something so much more. She was a romantic. She likes to paint the scenes in her head on an empty canvas of what she really wanted him to do at the time, but he wasn't that type of man. It saddened her.

Maybe he too was too caught up in the traditional ways. So was she. After kissing you though, all of that went away pretty quickly, she thought about you non stop, always having to touch you, whether that was a hand on your arm, shoulder, etc, pulling you close to her, she was always a touchy person, once you get to really know her.

She was obsessed with how your touch made her feel, the tingles she got, the sensation of merely just a brushing of the fingers when she passed you something, a book, a cup of tea or coffee, whatever it may be, set her heart off. She surely thought she was going to have a heart attack.

No man could ever make her feel the way you do.

It was truly something magical.

When you'd touch her back, giving her the same attention, knowing she'd want it but would be a bit shy at first to ask you, but it seems you'd know what she wants. It's like this non spoken communication between you two. It was special. She's never had that. Where someone just gets her, you haven't even known her for that long, but it felt like you both had known each other for years.

She understands what people meant by those special connections.

And she doesn't take any of it for granted.

Older!Librarian!Wanda is so precious and caring, loving towards you. She likes to bring you things she finds interesting that you might like, if that was a book or something else, she takes your interests very seriously too, even if she doesn't quite understand them as she grew up very differently. But she loves how excited you get whenever she asks you about it, it makes her happy, she also learns something new she didn't know. Which she likes. She does like to joke around with you, have that little banter as they like to call it, you've even taught her some newer things that may be trendy or help her understand it more. It's nice. Because she'll do the same for you.

After she learns what fidget toys are and whatever helps distract you, keeps you focused, whatever it may be you'll have plenty of it. If you forget a specific fidget toy while you're both out, Wanda has the exact same one in her bag, anything you need she has it. Since she knows you get stressed a lot, especially when there's a lot of people, it can get a bit too much, she gets it sometimes, how overwhelming it is, people being in your face and in your personal space, but when you feel her hand squeeze yours, you feel much more relaxed knowing she's there by your side.

#Liberian!wanda #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff fluff #stuff i wrote

464 notes · View notes

multific · 1 year

Text

Little You-s and I-s

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: You and Tommy deal with the changes that come with your pregnancy.

Your pregnancy changed you a lot.

You became more sensitive to smell for example.

One evening, Thomas arrived home from the bar, and as soon as you caught the smell of drinks and smoke on him, you rushed to the bathroom.

Then there was the incident when you craved fish but before you could cook it, the smell of it caught your nose and again, rushing for the toilet you went.

Thomas was incredibly happy when you told him the news, having his own family with you was always a goal of his.

What he didn't like however is just how sensitive you became and one thing that set it off easily was his cigarettes.

Thomas smoked a lot, so for him to not be able to do that in his own home was a bit challenging, but he still found ways to smoke one or two in the furthest part of the garden. Even then, sometimes the wind carried the smell right back to you.

"No smoking and no drinks!" yelled Tom at John as he pulled out a cigarette.

"What? Why?"

"My wife is pregnant, she is sensitive to the smell."

"Oooh, it got that bad huh?" asked John as you entered the room with a tray, on the tray there were some cookies and tea.

"I'll appreciate if you can hold yourself from smoking just this once John, the smell of it just..."

"No problem, thank you for the tea."

"I'll leave you to it." you smiled at your husband who nodded before he turned to John, talking about business.

When lunchtime was approaching, both John and Tom found themselves in the kitchen where you were currently chopping up some carrots and crying.

"Darling, I'm sure the carrots don't mind us eating them."

"Tell that to the headless chicken in the oven, Thomas!" you quickly said back making both men take a step back, Thomas should have known not to argue with you.

Both headed into the dining room instead.

"Is pregnancy supposed to affect a woman this much?" asked John in a hushed tone.

"I think so? I'm no expert John. Arthur has children, he might know more."

"She is glowing though. She was crying but she still looked like a Goddess."

"Can't argue with that, John. But keep your wandering eyes to yourself, she is my wife."

"Does she always cry during cooking?"

"As of late, yes. Yesterday, she made salmon, cried her heart about as she was talking about the poor little fishies the one she cooked left behind. But then this morning, she cried when she made salad. Saying the potatoes didn't deserve to die this way."

"So, she is sensitive to smell, cries when the cooks, can't get worse than that, I'd say."

"She talks back like I have never heard before."

"Okay, I was wrong it can get worse. You mean to tell me, that my lovely shy sister-in-law talks back? The one who didn't dare to tell you she didn't like the ring you gave her?" Thomas made a face at John's confession.

"She didn't like the ring?"

"No, she said she wished you would have given her something more simple. But she didn't want to tell you because she would hurt your feelings."

"Well now, with my child under her heart, she is not afraid to talk from her heart. The other day she told me I should dress better, apparently my suits make me look old. Then she wanted to dance and when I said I don't have the energy she complained that I never have when it comes to her. This is true sadly, however, the latest one... oh Johnny, my boy just before you arrived, she told me to ask you not to smoke and when I told her that you will be free to do as you please, the look. That look I know well, it's the look of someone who is about to murder. She said I either tell you to not smoke or-" Thomas stopped as he felt a shiver run down his spine, both men turned towards the door only to find you with the food in your hands on a tray.

You approached them and placed the food in front of them. The air was cold, John swore he could have cut the tension with a spoon.

"I told him he either asks you not to smoke or I will seriously question his position as the leader, as all leaders should be listened to and respected. And if he is not able to do so, then I shall take his place. So, you are not allowed to smoke John." John nodded, not even daring to look at you.

"Th-Thank you for the meal." John said.

"I know I can be a handful since I'm with child, I feel the change in myself, the doctor said it was hormones to blame, but I seriously hope you do not plan on talking our dear Johnny's ears off with my silliness, Dear Thomas. He doesn't have to know everything."

"Of course, Love. I apologize." Thomas grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on it.

John left soon after lunch and you were now washing the dishes as Tom was reading in the living room.

Once all dishes were done, you headed into the living room, a soft song playing as he was reading in his favourite armchair. He put the paper down when he saw you approach and you sat on his lap, your head on his chest as he continued to read with one hand as the other was now around you, comforting you.

"Am I really that annoying that you talk to John about it?"

"You are not annoying, Love. Odd, sometimes yes, but that isn't due to pregnancy." you giggled a little.

You were fine with 'odd'.

"I try to control it, you know?"

"Oh, God, is this the controlled version? I'm scared now for the uncontrolled one."

"It will get worse, I'm warning you because the doctor said last week that this will only grow as the baby does."

"It's alright, your body will change, I can take a few harsh words, I took bullets after all." he placed a kiss on your forehead.

"Do you want a girl or a boy?" you asked with a rather quiet voice.

"I don't really care, as long as both of you are safe and healthy."

"So you want a boy, got it." Tommy laughed you looked up at him, into his blue eyes. "I just want them to have your eyes."

"What if they don't?"

"Then we try until we have a child who does." you smiled at him as he looked at you.

"Just how many children my Missus want?"

"Oh, as many as my lovely husband would give me. We have a big house, it would be nice to have some life in it. Little you-s and I-s running around."

"I would like that. Honestly, I would like that very much. But let's see how you do after this one, then we will talk."

You hummed before you placed another kiss on his lips, letting him return to his paper as comfortable silence fell.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter @stunkbiggu @violet-19999 @praline357

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

4K notes · View notes

princessbrunette · 2 months

Note

I need head pusher!jj now :(((((

you’re right. i giggled when i mentioned it.

ִ ۫ ּ 𓂅⋆ 🫧｡˚. . .♡

to me headpusher!jj is just bsf!jj, because he’s used to being a little rougher with you. the two of you have known eachother for ages, you can take a little manhandling — hell, that look you always give him is living proof that you infact like it. he’s allowed to be brutish, less gentlemanly with you — because, well… you’re not his girl. you’re friends. you just happen to be a girl. and you also happen to be his, but that’s more unspoken.

you can act real slutty with him sometimes, especially after the two of you have smoked a joint together, rolling around the floor of his empty house, free of luke. you weakly pound your fists into his chest as you play fight, the much stronger boy pinning you in a comprising position, practically wearing your own knees as earmuffs.

“you’re such a cheater, jayj. always such a guy about it.” you pout and he grins, sitting back on his knees allowing you to sit up, legs either side of him.

“dont hate the player, hate the game baby.” he smirks, the playful nickname making you clench around nothing the way it always did.

“shut up, idiot.”

“ohhhh, still got that attitude in ‘ya duchess? you’re lucky imma real gentleman. would’a shoved somethin’ else in that mouth to shut you up n’teach you a lesson.” he starts lightly grappling with you again, and it takes everything not to break out into a needy whimper at his vulgar words. you’re used to him being gross and expletive, but at a time like this it was only turning you on.

“bet you wouldn’t.” it unfortunately comes out in the shape of a horny moan, brows knitted almost pleadingly making him slow his movements to a stop, adjusting his backwards cap with a taken aback smirk.

“oh really? so that’s how you wanna play, mama.”

in no time he’s got his dick in your mouth, lip bitten in concentration as he stares down at the way you take him in amusement.

“yeaaah, not so much of a chatty cathy now are you princess?” he teases, making you moan and shift your hips where you kneel— desperate for some touch down there. you wanted to say you couldn’t believe you were sucking your best friends dick, but anyone with eyes could tell it was a long time coming.

in retaliation to his meanness, you go to pull off him, lips nearly breaching his tip. he catches you in the act, heavy hand splaying out on the back of your skull, pressing you back down. “ah, ah— i don’t think so. wanted to act brave earlier, so i think it’s best you keep that dick in your throat babydoll.”

you definitely tease him after whilst he’s cleaning you up, being all sweet and slightly condescending. “cant believe you’re a chronic head pusher. i should have known.” you giggle, scrunching your nose as he digs the tissue into your nostril to clean away some of the rogue cum that had spurted out as an after shock after you’d swallowed him all.

“damn, quit moving would you gorgeous? anyway, i don’t wanna hear it ‘cus you totally loved it. you would’a done anything for me in that moment, i’on care. if your mouth wasn’t stuffed you’d have been callin’ my ass daddy.” he teases, using a separate corner of tissue to wipe the mascara from under your eyes.

you press your lips together, getting all shy on him again. “mm, i think that’s a confession for another day.”

ִ ۫ ּ 𓂅⋆ 🫧｡˚. . .♡

#anon #jj maybank prompt #bsf!jj #the indy duchess nickname agenda speaks once more

407 notes · View notes

polaroidbills · 9 months

Text

enhypen and their boyfriend types

genre/cw: bf!enhypen x fem!reader, fluff, like mega mega fluff, kissing & hugging, enhypen being out of their mind in love with you, literally so cutie patootie.

a/n: i thought of this at like 2am so be ready. i also tried a new layout for my work. if you want more content like this lmk!

heeseung 희승

heeseung is the type to never stop admiring you. you're on his mind 24/7. when you're next to him, he'd be staring at you the whole time. especially your lips. when you're talking, you always notice his eyes go down and come up, obviously looking at your lips. "if you wanna kiss me, just do it hee." even in a crowd full of people, he only has eyes for you. heeseung would even stare at the photo of you on the back of his phone. and sometimes he'll even space out thinking of you. "heeseung! dude, are you even listening?"

jay 제이

jay is the type to only let himself do all the work. like cleaning, washing dishes, cooking, and the laundry. he will absolutely not let you do anything of the sort, even if you try to. for example, one time you got up to start washing the dishes after dinner. but he literally sprinted towards the dirty dishes in the sink and started scrubbing. he refuses to let you do any work, because it's one of his ways of showing love.

jake 제이크

jake is the type to talk about you non-stop to his friends. he always brags about how beautiful and kind you are. and all the small details and habits you have. he will absolutely be kicking his feet, giggling, talking to heeseung and sunghoon about how you always pull your sleeve over your hands, creating paw sleeves. "she's just so cute and perfect!" it's to the point where his friends just ignore it or get annoyed at how much he talks about you. but he he can't control it. it's a habit now.

sunghoon 성훈

sunghoon is the type to always be texting you when he isn't with you. he never wants to stop talking to you, so when he isn't with you, he chooses texting or calling or even facetiming. instead of it being annoying, it's actually very cute. he would say things like "schedule is so boring, i'm soo excited to see you soon." or "i miss you soo much baby." and i mean 24/7. half of the time he isn't with you, he's looking down at his phone, texting you.

sunoo 선우

sunoo is the type to always know when you aren't feeling comfortable or happy. he instantly knows when you feel down or not yourself. and he will do anything in his power to fix it. like when you embarrassed yourself in front of other people amd you felt really stupid. he tried to switch the topic of the conversation and told you that you weren't stupid after. or when you got a paper cut, he bandaged it up, gave you a million kisses, and watched your favourite movie. he just knows you too well.

jungwon 정원

jungwon is the type to be shy about pda, but will always, privately, show his affection in hugs, kisses, and cuddles. in public, the most he will do is hold your hand or give you a peck on the cheek. but when your at home or alone with him, he will never stop hugging or kissing you. he's always leaning on you or cudding you. but he especially gets shy when his friends tease him about you. if he's with you, he'll snuggle his head into your shoulder when he's embarrassed or shy. you find it cute how shy he is in public and he always apologizes for it because he feels that he doesn't show enough love in public. so he makes up for it privately.

niki 니키

niki, similar to sunghoon, is the type to always want to be with you, but it's 100% worse. like i mean he's with you at ALL times. he's so clingy to the point where he's your shadow. wherever you go, he goes. it's to the point where you would even need to go to the bathroom, but he also wants to come with you and accompany you. obviously you refuse. but when you open the door to get out, he's standing right there, right in front of the door, all pouty and waiting for you. he's just so cute.

@polaroidbills please DO NOT copy, plagiarize, or repost any of my work.

2K notes · View notes

f4llingtoyou · 11 months

Text

please stop talking (min ho x reader)

“Please stop talking,” he mutters, and your mouth splits into a grin before he leans forward to capture it in a kiss.

wc: 0.6k an: well i’m a little bit in love with him. another warmup while i work on this longer fic (friends to enemies to lovers anyone? 👀)! also, what a shame p2 is officially a wip (how much would you all hate me if i didn’t have them kiss...)

“And he had the nerve to use my caviar eye cream as hand lotion-”

You stifle a laugh, tilting your head to look at your boyfriend, who is currently wielding a jade roller in his right hand like a weapon.

“The audacity!” you tease, and he whirls around to face you with an expression of exasperated relief.

“Thank you! I knew-” he stops short when he sees the smile tugging at the corner of your lips and deadpans immediately. “You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you.”

This time you can’t control your laughter. “What gave it away?”

He rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the apparent affection in it.

“I hate you,” he pouts, flopping down on the couch next to you with a sigh. “I can’t believe you’re being mean to me when you get to see this everyday for free,” he adds, gesturing to his face with a dramatic flourish of his hand.

You know he’s joking, but it still rings true. Sometimes you still can’t believe that you get to have him like this - when his guard is let down and he doesn’t feel like he has something to prove. You know you’re staring but now that he’s drawn your attention to his face, you’re overwhelmed by the urge to kiss him.

You push yourself up and swing one leg over his lap, relishing in the way he immediately flushes in surprise as you settle into a straddling position.

“What- what are you doing?” he stutters, and you bite back a smile. Even just looking at him is enough to have your whole body erupting in butterflies.

“You’re right. You’re too pretty to be mean to,” you whisper, and you hear an audible thump as the jade roller slips out of his hand and onto the floor. It only takes you trailing one hand up his arm for him to duck his head, ears bright red. You never realized how easy it was to bring out this shy side of Min Ho, but you delight in your newfound power every chance you can get.

“Have I ever told you how hot you are?” you question, settling one hand on his (unfairly broad) shoulders. His bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he looks everywhere but you and you can’t help the shiver that runs up your spine at the sight.

Before you can continue, however, he’s pulling you closer by the waist until you’re only inches away from each other. When he opens his mouth to talk, you can feel his breath ghosting over your lips.

“Please stop talking,” he mutters, and your mouth splits into a grin before he leans forward to capture it in a kiss.

It’s slow and languid, like you have all the time in the world. His hands are warm and solid on your waist, sliding up beneath your shirt, and you melt into his touch like you’re starving for it. Threading one hand into his hair, you hear his breath hitch, and you drink it in greedily when his mouth parts slightly. He retaliates by swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, and when you pull back for air he’s staring at you with such open tenderness that your chest physically aches.

You love him so much that you’re not entirely sure how to communicate it sometimes. It’s sweet like strawberries in the summer and sunshine on your skin, but it’s also all-consuming like fire that catches in your veins. You hope he knows it - that you’ve never felt this way about anybody, and he deserves it in its entirety.

You can’t find the words, so instead you cup the back of his neck and lean down to kiss him again.

#min ho x reader #xo kitty x reader #☆ my writing #☆ xok - minho

2K notes · View notes

anadiasmount · 4 months

Note

Married life with Jude!!

headcannon for jude bc i’ve never done one! hope you enjoy! 🧟‍♀️🤍

masterlist | jude’s masterlist | send requests/ concepts!

would def introduce/call you as “wife” everywhere you go. doesn’t matter where you guys are headed he would so go “this is my wife y/n.” would make me feel so giddy i will not lie 😣😔

kiss your ring finger whenever he pleases, or when he notices you becoming nervous or anxious because he knows how much kisses with you mean. “relax darling, it’s us. me and you.”

have a random argument in the morning and jude being first to apologize bc he one, hates to see you upset bc of him, two due to the fact he hates when you’re not talking to him, and three bc he hates fighting especially with you. “forgive me okay? i didn’t mean it.”

would text you whenever either of you are out to check in, and starts the text with “wife…” or “husband” to remind to pick something up, or send a quick i love you text, to tell you about their days or something funny you guys saw, to say they miss each other. props if they send pictures instead of just texting.

on random occasions would pull out your wedding photos because it’s the most memorable and unforgettable night of his life. would explain to you how he felt in that moment and pull you his chest and tell you he loves you so much.

calls you “mrs. bellingham” to get your attention or walks into the room bc you and him love it. friends and family would make fun of you and you would shy away from it, but jude just smirks bc deep down it’s a reminder to everyone you’re married to him.

the two of you spending every morning together before he leaves for training or away games, having your daily tea/coffee with cookies/biscuits because you hate being apart even if it’s for just a little bit. “gonna miss you so much angel. wait for me so we can grocery shopping okay?”

LATE NIGHT TALKS BECAUSE WHATTT??? i have trouble sleeping at night and he would def stay up with you and you the same with him when you can’t sleep and just talk about kids, pets, friends and family, work, about the old times when you first got together.

brings you your favorite bouquet of flowers when he comes back from away duty, never getting over the fact that you’re married to him. kissing your forehead first and then leaning down to connect your lips together. “your favorite flowers, but you’re my favorite flower beautiful.”

annoys the shit out of you when he’s sick or clingy, begging for you to hold him and kiss his cheeks or temple because you apparently take the pain away. your hands massaging down his back and neck to smooth him, but sometimes he pretends just so he can feel you. “i need my wife to be with me in ‘sickness and in health’ remember?”

when back in england he loves doing date night at late night. takes you on walks after dinner and treats you to ice cream, buys you something to remember the night. his hand on your thigh in the car or around your waist when walking. “look so pretty for me. why are you so beautiful, wife?”

BYE IM SORRY BUT HES THE TYPE TO BUY SHIRTS THAT SAY “my wife” “his wife” and “my husband” “her husband” and force you go to public wearing them because he thinks it’s hilarious. “i’m sorry i can’t. i need a good laugh. please baby? do it for me?”

buys you small presents because he can’t stop spoiling you. “for you my wife. don’t start with that because i have every right to do anything to make you smile.”

would pull up to your work place when you least expect it and wait in your office/ designated area to eat lunch when he’s off. you would tell him all the gossip or topic of the day to reach, and he’s attentively listening because he loves hearing about the silliest thing that occur in your work place. everyone would just stare at the two of you in awe because you are the definition of couple goals.

when you attend his matches you would surprise him with a “his wife #5” jersey and he would smile wide and pull you close after the match ends. he would make fun of you at first but he loves the idea bc he know it’s a reminder to not him but the whole world. “my wife indeed. it’s gonna become my favorite jersey you’ve worn. gotta remind everyone who your husband is right?”

a relationship especially when married isn’t one sided, so the two of you always go above and beyond to make each other happy even if it’s the smallest word or action. squeeze in a cuddle even if it’s not appropriate timing. always communicating about how you to ensure the two of you are okay.

even the smallest glances you send when you’re not together, it’s glances like those that will never fail to put a smile on each others faces. like the of you would be the only humans alive.

#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot

481 notes · View notes

princessslutt · 3 months

Text

Flustered

———————————————————————

You have always been shy, ever since you were little. You don’t like talking to people you don’t know, and James always gets on you about using your words, and not to mumble. But you cant help it. Sometimes, you’re even shy around all three of the boys. But they assure you that you don’t have to be shy around them. During dinner, it’s hard for the boys to get you to talk. James and Sirius don’t really care that you’re shy during dinner. But Remus does. Remus thinks that people should talk during dinner, and when he says people, he means you.

“Are you gonna sit there and stay quiet through the rest of dinner?,” Remus says, glaring at you. Sirius just rolls his eyes, he thinks it’s ridiculous that you can’t talk on your own. Your bottom lip trembles, tears swelling in your eyes as you look down at your lap. James looks at Remus like he’s about to kill him. “Moony, not now,” Remus looks at you, seeing the tears falling down to your lap “princess, you’re fine. Eat your dinner,” You sniffle, Sirius pulls you for a hug, fingers gently massaging the skin of your scalp, as your cheek rests against his chest, you wipe your eyes on his shirt. You sit back up in your chair, picking up your fork and eating the rest of your dinner.

After dinner you and the boys go back to their dorm. You follow them back to their dorm like a lost puppy who doesn’t know how to bark. But can they really blame you though? You not being able to talk to many people isn’t exactly your fault. You don’t feel comfortable talking to random people, or even people you don’t see that often.

“Honey, you need to talk more. Use your words, I know you can,” Sirius says, sitting down on his work chair, you gnaw on the tip of your thumb, standing in front of your now sitting boyfriend. “Stop fucking doing that. You know I hate when you do that.” Remus adds to the conversation. You quickly take your thumb out of your mouth, playing with your fingers instead, looking down at them.

James leaning on the wall “she’s just a dumb puppy, doesn’t know any better,” Sirius grins, watching your cheeks get red. “aww, she’s flustered, James, you made her blush,” Remus chuckles. “Yet she still doesn’t know how to speak up,” James crosses his arms and walks over to you. He pushes your chin up, making you look at him. “So what’s it gonna be, pup? Are you gonna stay silent forever? Or are you gonna do the right thing and speak?” You nod.

“Well then, get to it, yeah? Don’t have all day,” Sirius adds, You look away from James. “m’sorry.” all three boys grin. “oh, so she speaks now?,” Sirius pulls you onto his lap, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, you whine, blushing and getting nervous “I don’t know what’s the matter, doll. We don’t bite,” you cling onto Sirius tighter, you felt safer with Sirius.

he sat next to you anywhere you went, helped you with your homework, and was much sweeter. “siri,” you whine, he chuckles. “I know, I know, let’s get you to bed, yeah?” you nod, still trying to burying you face into his neck. he gets up and carries you to another room. He gently places you onto the bed, walking over to the closet and picking out some comfy clothes for you to wear to bed.

“alright doll, here we go. Let’s put these on.” he states, you sit up, letting him help you into the clothes. you smile and stare up at him. He raises an eyebrow. “Thank you,” he grin at your comment. “atta girl, see it wasn’t so hard, was it?” he sees the flustered look on your face. You bring your hands up to cover the redness on your cheeks “alright, alright, you’re okay,” he smiles.

you pull the blankets up and over your body and watch him lay next to you, laying your head on his chest. Your head only going up and down when he breathes. “I love you siri,” he kisses your forehead.

“I love you too princess.”

———————————————————————

˚˖𓍢ִ🩰✧˚.🐰୨୧ ⋅˚₊

#marauders #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders fluff #the marauders era #marauders era #padfoot #moony #prongs #shy reader

349 notes · View notes

cu7ie · 11 months

Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ (✪㉨✪) beasts of burden.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀▚▚▚▚▚▚⠀⠀when the pet aims to become the master! ▚▚▚▚▚▚

⠀⠀⠀⠀cw; non-con / dub - con ! reader owns hybrids like how you might own pets. rough groping, clothes ripping, sexual aggression. no specific gender or genitals mentioned. hybrid! characters x human reader. REALLY LONG POST. (5k+)

Shepherd!Shinichiro is full-grown when you meet him. The dog you pictured taking home with you wasn’t anything like Shinichiro. He’s too tall. Sheds too much (you sat down with a black shirt and stood up with a coat) gets so excited squirreling around with his friends that he nearly stampedes you.

But he’s the one you leave with. He’s the one who’s papers you’re signing your name all over. The one who’s collared and dutifully walking in step with you back to your apartment. The one you chose to love.

He’s not shy; not necessarily forth-coming either, but he respects you enough. Wipes his feet on the mat when he comes in, doesn’t chew up your furniture and sits on the first try every time. You’d never owned a hybrid before. And with Shinichiro’s specific breed, you’re even less certain about his disposition; though his excitement and his happy licks and demand for head rubs is giving you a good feeling. You do your research sparingly in the upcoming weeks, scrolling down google with one hand,

The other threaded affectionately in Shinichiro’s hair.

A few more weeks pass, and Shinichiro’s thin shell cracks under the weight of your relentless affections. You’re touchier than any owner he’s ever had.

He doesn’t know how to express to you, this coiling snake in his belly - roiling hellfire whenever you stroke under his chin, pat him playfully on his cheek and drag your hand up and down his tummy -

You don’t notice (or pretend not to) the tent he’s pitching in his shorts. He’s wheezing and you won’t stop rubbing. Your eyes are glued to his, sip-sippin’ up his ambrosia; enthusiasm, utter joy, laughter so strained it sounds painful.

You’re a good boy. Such a good, good boy. You whisper to him. And he’s whining - whining so loud and he can’t help himself, he just can’t help it.

And when he bites you, you are shocked. You choke on your praises. Surprise leaves you deafened and petrified, and you are being pulled by your hand up up into Shinichiro’s sharp and eager grasp before you can dissuade him with a firm ‘bad boy’. He feels you up.

(He only seen you. In parts, never all at once or for very long. Steam fogs up your mirror when you shower and there was always something peculiar about that depressingly gelid draft, rising goose pimples in your skin despite the warm shower. He’s looking, then, and looking at night. He’s supposed to be sleeping beside your bed, but he worms his way beneath your covers. Breathes so close to your face that your eyelids twitch in your sleep.

You’re warmer than any human he’s ever met. Your laughter crisp in the space behind his eyes. Everything’s so quiet now - but it’s like he can hear you so clearly, moaning quietly and,

So perfect. All his.)

He forgets how fragile humans are at the best of times. His nails - which you’ve been meaning to trim, he’s just too excited sometimes - scrape along your skin from your waist and down to your hips, etching in crescents whenever he grabs you firm. You squeal, mousy eyed and meek handed, pushing firmly against Shinichiro’s chest. He only leans into you more. Eyes softened with adoration and love, resolve sharpened to a blade’s edge as he licks his lips like you’re something that ought to be devoured.

He can tell there’s something that’s making you uncomfortable. His cock is stiff in his boxers - he’s sure you can feel it, how much he loves you too - and he’s staring like he can’t believe you’re real; but he doesn’t wager either of those things are the reason why you’re quiet. You’re new to this. Never been bred before; he deduces from the apprehension in your gaze. He strokes your cheek, like you’d done once before to comfort him. Like he’s telling you not to worry, as your shorts tear and buttons pop off. As he flips you over and fixes your positioning, raises your hips so when he curls over your back they’re raised to his, you fidget. You spasm, you squirm, jerkily moving your hands to support your weight as you attempt dislodging his grip from your hips.

“No! Bad boy! Bad dog! Shinichiro!-” He grinds his dick against you with pent-up aggression, carnal fervor that slides along your back and drags something sticky along with it.

There are hearts in his eyes. If he wasn’t holding your head down, you might’ve been able to see them.

⠀⠀⠀⠀₍⑅ᐢ›ﻌ‹ᐢ₎⚟

Kitty!Izana doesn’t live in a shelter. If he did once, then he recalls it with no fondness, taken to lying with shadows like any other discarded piece of trash. He’s a bit fleabitten and mangy, to be expected from a backwater alley cat. Nobody pays him mind as long as he relegates himself to dark corners; sticks to swiping things from beneath unsuspecting strangers’ noses and desiring little more for himself. Not one familiar place to him anymore; and he had no business being in any place a human called home. So he lets himself fester. Allows resentment to pry open his chest and live there, congealing in his open wounds, choking a withered heart. And for a long while, he knows no comfort beyond that of his own thoughts.

You just finished signing your lease agreement, and should be finished moving in before the end of the week. An optimistic estimate. All your boxes remain packed, stacked into several towers and sorted by importance. Memorabilia, your tankobon collection, tapestries and vases and the rest of your life in sturdy cardboard containers. The area is .. okay. Not the cleanest, or most well lit at night, or even the safest feeling, (you feel like something’s stabbing you with its eyes. Slithering up your neck, a snake-) but well within your budget - and the landlord is just the sweetest older man. He checks up on you often. Doesn’t have many restrictions or rules; no loud music playing, no smoking ( or more reasonably — no cigarette butts on the steps,) and absolutely no hybrids. So when you happen upon those yellow beady eyes in the alleyway, the vague rumble of hunger that squeezes your heart before the specter bounds behind the safety of the refuse,

You aren't sure about your angle of attack. On one hand, he's despondent. Doesn't believe in your kindness, hisses at your handouts and leaves your arm beat up and gouged out on more than one occasion. He's just nervous, you think, slicing tuna, flattening and molding rice into sheets that you roll up and slice into pieces. He'll come around, one day.

He just has to. It's getting colder. Autumn is cut short by the blizzarding winds of winter, and Izana grows desperate. A human's persistence always feels like the cure to all problems. That's probably what you think - with your pretty eyes and your dumb little fucking human brain and -

Yes, he does eat the food you give him, because it's fresh and he's starving, and he takes the coat you 'were going to throw away' (you shove it into his hands, for him to keep,) because it'd be a shame it'd go to waste. Not because he likes you. Not because he appreciates you. In fact, you might just be the bane of his existence.

(You make him hurt. Unlike any pain from being kicked or having bricks thrown at his ribs. Worse than the cigarettes that have burnt permanent ash into his fur. He doesn't need you. Doesn't want to want you. So this feeling, that butterflies his lungs and crackles his ribs and has him looking away whenever you fix him with those cloyingly pitying eyes,

It must be hatred. Must be disgust. He is unwilling to rationalize it as anything else. Sometimes he'll climb the fire escape when he learns your specific apartment, sees your head sticking out the window one day to move your potted plants inside when it gets too too cold out; lingering in the dank fetid air of the alleyway, maps you out and keeps his notes for a rainy day. You see him, try to lure him in with food and promises of affection and play and toys. He's gotten less aggressive, willing to compromise at least. Doesn't hiss when you wave him good mornings, doesn't claw at the air and bite your wrist when you scratch him behind the ear. It's only been a few months. You don't seek your landlord's ire (you're not sure he could handle a surprise, let alone find out you're hosting for strays) but you trust that Izana could keep a secret if you can. He's mostly quiet in your interactions and that doesn't change much once he's inside. He isn't reciprocal with affections, doesn't pay you much mind in your own house, but is harmless and docile when pampering is involved. He's butter over warm toast, melting and purring as warm water washes over him in - oh, you don't even know how long.

It's unlike him regardless.

(He's hurting again. It's dull and throbbing in his lungs, cold and piercing and fierce; you caressing his cheek, the water pooled around him. He's not drowning but he's full of something and he despises the sensation, but leans further and further into your hand-)

You rinse dirt from out of his hair, decay from behind his ears, scrub the loneliness from his skin.

(You're so focused. His anxiety worms its way to his stomach and buried itself, the seed to which your affection tends; the unknown, the unusual inspires his fear. Is your betrayal imminent? There seems to be no ruse in your ministrations, but his heart pounds at the thought. You wring out the cloth you used to clean him and tell him he can stand before leaving the room. You can't see him. He will use that to his advantage.)

Your back is turned as you rummage through your closet for an extra towel. You remembered grabbing one, though it makes sense your mind could have been going - oh shoot. Did you tell Izana to wait for you in the bathroom? You spin around so fast you sway in your spot for a bit, stomping towards the bathroom, towel in hand.

But he's not there. Wet footprints lead you to your living room, but he's not there either. He's a bit soft pawed, the slippery kind of feline you presume. So the hunt marches along. Not under the kitchen table, under the couch, near the window or the front door. He didn't go back to the bathroom. Your mounting confusion is the first thing he notices when you walk back in your room. Your face; it's pretty. Which becomes a revolting conclusion as soon as it's realized, but he can't take it back, can't unthink it. Humans are not beautiful. But maybe you are? He's under your bed, by the way. You see the pale yellow eyes as a surprisingly strong hand curls around your ankle firmly - and tugs. The world falls around you and you raise your head so your shoulders hit the floor before you get a concussion; aching and holding up the towel shield against a very wet, a little dusty Izana.

"Buddy. What's up with all the rabble rousing? I was gonna towel you off and we were gonna be all cool-" Your voice lurches as he tosses the towel wayward, forcing you to bare witness to his lean physique, his tail curling around your leg as he leans up and,

His cock is throbbing. So hard, pre leaking from the ruddy tip, as it sticks up and out like an offensive gesture. It's ribbed with nub-like bumps, blunt and odd and menacing. You whine and try to gain leverage with your legs, attempting to kick and wriggle your way out from beneath him. Dead weight. He does not budge. He does look a little impatient now though; terse like you've been the one wasting his time.

"Human." He croaks, placing his hand on your shoulder and scooting further up your chest, his cock head kissing your lips. You whimper.

"Lick it."

⠀⠀⠀⠀ʚ₍⑅ᐢ.ﻌ.ᐢ₎ɞ

Lab!Manjirou was the one nobody wanted. Hybrid kennels are rough, and most owners don't know how to dress up and play pretend. He's not doing much when you first start working there, determined to make a home out of this hell. He didn't trust your commitment. Wary of most humans in his day to day, he doesn't aim to keep an eye out for them. Mostly lounging around with the other hybrids, aimless and picking fights with the biggest guys and scaring all the little kids with the big eyes and burning glares, whooping and hollering and barking through metal fences. Your patience is effortless. You assign your 'pack mates' (employees, you later explain) tasks; maintain the kennels and the play spaces and the feeding and walking times, while you see to Manjirou's personal retraining program. He's a good fella at heart, you know that; just a little bit of a lack of focus is all. Preoccupied with his own thing to his own detriment. You begin with teaching him how to listen. He often doesn't bother with humans; preferring the ravings of his hybrid friends as opposed to human conversation and commands. You're not his boss and you don't try to be. What you are though, is his caretaker. He ought to listen to the people trying to help him - and you don't get it, because you've never been in his position before - so maybe your first lesson doesn't go over too well with him. Maybe he stops paying you attention for the next couple days, bleeding into the next week.

Maybe he just doesn't want to listen to a word you say. And that's fine. You guess you could be okay with that.

(But he did listen. Listened to every word that fell from your lips like it'd be the last thing he'd ever hear, felt your heartbeat as you started to feel unsure of yourself; smiled dumbly at how easy you fluster. You are trying. He saw it. As real as stars in the night, as certain as sunrise. And maybe he commends you for that, but he mostly dreams of your pretty mouth and how bright a future could be with you in it.

He doesn't talk to you because it doesn't make him feel cool. The others keep pulling his leg, jaunting and ribbing and getting under his skin; and while he hates being serious, he hates being made to look a fool more. So he stands and lets you hit, pick up a card, play.

You try again. And again. And again. Burning away his resolve. He is abrasive. He drags his feet, turns his head the other way. Doesn't take you seriously.

But you are firm. Your voice never wavers. Manjirou, don't you want to be a good boy for me?

He dips his nose into your palm, and you wonder if dogs know how to keep promises.)

You make progress with the pups and kittens and think you're making something out of yourself when the first month under your management comes to a close. The kennel has taken root and grown into something of a home. Massive fronds that keep the hybrids safe in and intruders out, a wealth of life inside like a fresh breath of air; colors pulled right from a painter's palette, vivid and buzzing and delightful all around. He almost hates his quickly it feels like you forget about him. You're busier and work later but still chat with him when you can; just not as focused, not as forward. He misses your special attention. Now he mostly sees you dispensing food around dinner time, greeting the others as you come and go.

Tonight, his hunger is legendary. You walk into the kennel the same time you do every night, pat the same heads, serve the same meal, clean up, and-

Mikey's been following you. It's not new for him. You get a second shadow and he gets much needed attention, although none of it is particularly good. He keeps stepping on your heels and trying to smell the air around you, trying to rub his scent off on you, and you're a saint; so patient and so caring and so fucking blind,

Because the rest of the hybrids have formed somewhat of a circle around you. Innocuous seeming, but as your hands empty; bending over to place an empty box on the ground, you hear a shrill, low whistle. It's Mikey. Surrounded by all his little friends with their innocent eyes and big smiles. "What..?" You trail off, not observing the danger as it bares it fangs at you, stepping forward with that probing gaze. "Mikey, are you alright?" Your concern wraps around his heart and almost makes him feel sorry about what he's going to do to you.

(The others have taken a liking to you too. Draken and Peh - Yan and Kazutora and - all his friends really. They don't like you as much as he does, you're his favorite, but they like Mikey enough to fall in line with him - to turn cheek when he lands on top of you and scratches your forearm; starts popping the buttons on your dress shirt.)

Mikey is sooo hungry. His tongue curls around the plane of your neck and his hand impatiently gropes at your chest. Shallow breaths give way to panic; the realization you were the one meant to close up shop, there’s no one else here.

“Manjiro. Stop! Get off of-!” He forces his mouth onto yours, kisses you sloppily like he’s been waiting for you to fall into his arms just so could take you, just like this. His erection pressing against your thigh as he spreads your legs so wide the other hybrids just have to take a look and,

You’re crying.

(They seem drawn to it. Your tears. Your squirming. Mikey licks a long stripe up your cheek, tastes the salt in them. His saliva burns you.) His hands have already forced your pants down your legs, and all the time and effort you poured into him; all your love; it’s become malformed. Grossly misrepresented as he aggravatedly humps your thigh, popping threads your underwear at the goading of his friends, sticking a finger in you so suddenly and harshly that you groan and squeal, pumping it in and out;

“I can be a good boy for ya.” He simpers, raising his hand; lapping your fluids off his fingers. “Let me show you.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀c(⌒o( -▽-)ノ

There was no contingency plan in place for if you lost your nerve and ended up taking home two hybrids instead of one. Sure, you have the space - s’not like you don’t have the money; but dad was going on and on about the importance of spending limits, keeping track of your schedule - making sure they have what they need. “These are live animals, you know. You can’t just throw money at it and make it happy. They’re alive. They think, they desire, they need. You need to take real responsibility n’ take care of them properly or-”

“It’ll be fine. And I’m not just saying that, dad. I swear on it.” Sure you do. You don’t let him finish before you’re making an excuse to get a foot out the door, (because you hate being late more than you hate being told what to do,) a short drive to the kennel your father suggested; which practically feels like a hop and skip away. It’s ritzy, for sure. Mint and cream lettering that deems this building ‘Tenjiku & Friends’. Something about this place is just too cute. You hop out the car and two other men (that your dad sent, because even though he loves you to bits and pieces, sometimes you act like you took a high dive in a low well) tail you, open the door for you, clear the way for you. You had called the kennel the previous day to see if they had anything exotic for sale, and before you make it all the way down the hall, someone -

Cream pants, cotton candy blue vest, polite smile -

stops you in your tracks. He knows your name because he remembers talking to you, but let yourself feel like a celebrity anyway as he walks you down the hall. Most hybrid kennels only vendor dogs and cats - but specialized ones have the more exotic options for high-ballers. You walk past a basilisk (kinda looks like a dragon), wild cats (some big, some small), and harpies; from peacocks to pigeons, it's like this place has it all.

You like the look of the basilisk the most, you guys walk back towards the reptile section as the young man hurriedly explains more shit you don’t give a fuck about-

And then you see it. A brilliant beam of light as pretty scales refract a heat lamps’ brightness right into your eyeballs. You stomp over with all intent to be irritated with whatever stupid ass animal did-

That…

Your rage is cut with shock - all encompassing and rapidly onset. Your shock gives way to astonishment, flapping your hands as you point and go “Look, look!” towards the ice cold cobra resting behind the glass. He doesn’t move at the emergence of new faces, too busy being effortlessly gorgeous and minding his own damn business - but you have the wealth to be nosy.

It’s almost like .. he’s calling out to you.

From behind the observing glass, his chittering tail slips out of view; Rindou - the silver inlay on the name plate reads. There’s another name beneath it - Ran - though the cool-mint scales (on what you presume to be his brother) that slink out of view appeals to you profoundly on an aesthetic level. His brother doesn’t look lots like him as far as coloration goes. He’s a shiny beetle black. Under this heat lamp you can see shifting emeralds and colors of envy shift within the pot of black ink; his skin, beautiful, and (look, your mind’s changing again,) pressing your forehead to the glass, you weigh your options and are unable to think beyond ‘Gosh, they are just so gorgeous.’

They continue ignoring you. They’ve seen ambitious types like you before; the ones that come in and crowd around the main attraction - the twin kings, magnificent and dangerous and feral. That which humans consider beautiful. Their captivity. You gape and awe and marvel so much; pay no heed to the handlers’ that say ‘back away from the glass’, just flash a cute enough smile (show them the billfold of your wallet) and they let people like you carry on. Because they know you’re good for it.

(Rin and Ran talk amongst themselves often; refrain from speaking when humans are around but they definitely talk - about the handlers, about home, about freedom. No more poking with this needle, sedating with that pill, living ‘natural’ lives behind plexiglass. Preferably without pesky fucks like you trying to rip them apart - take them from everything they know-)

“These two are kinda like a package deal. One won’t move without the other - most people just want one and, y’know, s’not like we’re gonna corral em’, or force em to go but-” The guy you’re listening to but not quite blathers on and on, til’ you raise your hand and look over; with the stars and the sun and moon in your eyes; a little less than half a grand in your hand. He looks startled by your fervor, the way you bark orders at the people you came with to get the trucks to have these guys moved out within the hour - having the blue blooded audacity to stand in the way of the snake handlers as they coax the cobras out into the open, watching with wonderstruck glee and tapping your feet and jumping for joy. (You are so annoying. Most well-to-dos are, but when they lay your eyes on you for the first time, when they care enough to bear witness to their new owner; you’re not what they are expecting, and they don’t know if they like that. No crotchety, old, suit wearing executive, no crude perverse old hag. You’re young. A socialite maybe, but naive; surely.) They whisper and hiss and slither across linoleum tile to sniff at you with cautious forked tongues, chittering with their rattling tails. You shouldn’t be this close to them; not yet at least, but money makes men dance and the kennel company is more than happy to oblige your specialty requests.

You look so excited to own them. That’s what they think at first, your mouth gaping at their utterly massive size. Their tails have to be at least twenty feet long, undulating slowly as they are walked down the hall with no issue. The striking specimens are enough to make your eyes water. How would they look in the sun? Sparkling like infinitely precious gemstones and gold. Their scales must be waterproof - maybe if they enjoy a good swim they could break in the new pool you just had renovated. You sigh in utter delight, enchanted by your future and running back to your sleek black car; practically throwing yourself down the flight of steps and demanding your chauffeur break every single traffic code in order to get home before your new pets do.

Hybrids; the best companionship money can buy.

You prepared your house for a hybrid to move in - note, singular, - and largely anticipated bringing home something so much more … normal. What do nagas even enjoy? Do they even like sleeping in beds? Probably not - real snakes don’t even sleep in beds, that’s stupid. You’re stupid and make impulsive decisions. But it's okay. When in doubt, cash out. You start doing research - a little late, but same day delivery is a terrific thing - and are interrupted soon after by violent buzzing and knocking at your door.

Rin and Ran look shocked when they slither inside but that doesn’t matter in the least bit to you. You’re too excited by the towering nagas, clasping your hands together as the handlers ascertain and assess your premises. Good enough, they say, and leave you be.

“So. You guys talk right?” You ask almost stupidly. They share a glance and Rin speaks before Ran does - and you don’t know if it’s a lisp or if that’s just his tongue, but -

“Yes.” His s’s are so sharp they sting. “We do talk, human.” They are far, but close the gap in an instant and, once raised to their full sitting height, tower over you effortlessly. You’re not smart enough to feel intimidated. Ran seems to take to you more than Rin. Isn’t as aloof; rubs his body along your sides as he slithers by, flicking his tongue out at you. “Awesome! Well, this,” You make a sweeping gesture with your hand at the grand expanse of your house. “is your home now! Get comfortable. There’s plenty of room to lounge about and do whatever snakes like to do.” Rindou sneers at you, and you feel like you might’ve said something wrong; but don’t care enough to correct it. They’re your pets, anyway. You provide, they don’t complain.

Rindou continues being cold to you, but Ran warms your heart and soul and almost never wants to leave your side. (They’re playing you. Good cop, bad cop - trying to figure out what makes you tick. How that can be leveraged - work to their benefit. Ran does take a liking to you; you’re dumb and fun and adorable. So small and fragile compared. He learns a lot about you, too; the human shows you like to watch and the fickle games you like to play. You’re not very strong, not very bright - but you’re affluent; wealthy, and to humans that is power.

Him and Rin talk less and less about leaving as the weeks pass. Even Rindou is starting to like you more. Your embarrassed smiles and the fear he can smell in your nervousness. Makes him.. tingle.)

You give them whatever they ask for whenever they want it. More treats, shiny things, installments in your house that can hold their weight, so they can climb and perch and slither and rest. But eventually, they get bored of your money.

They start looking to you for more substance, but that’s when they begin to realize their individuality matters little to you. They are humanoid. Human-ish. But they are not people. To you, they are mindless. You ruffle their hair and call them “Good boys”. You bombard them with hugs and kisses and pats when they don’t want them; though when they are seeking out your attention you’re suddenly too busy, suddenly so annoyed. And of course, they have other needs too.

(You don’t care about being naked in front of them. You strip carelessly and leave articles around the house for them to find, walking into rooms in towels or sometimes nothing at all. It means nothing; your nudity and you purport it should be the same for them. You don’t stare at them like they stare at you. Analyzing your every move. Every inch of bare skin is scandalizing, racy and jarring - they don’t know what to do but stare. Ran, a lapdog if anything, tries to get close to the source - Rin prefers taking mementos and memories. Your bathroom’s so big and shower so relaxing that you don’t care if Ran keeps slithering in and out. He keeps an eye on you, so Rindou can be the one to rummage through your drawers & your laundry. Finds the clothes that smell the most like you, steals them away to fashion into a nest in any random corner of your big ass house. You don’t notice. Maybe you just don’t care.)

You buy clothes obsessively. You have two separate dressers, two closets - probably an entire room for the nice, vintage stuff that takes up space, collecting dust because you have more than you know what to do with - too selfish to give away. You don’t go in there often because most of the time you don’t need to - but all your cute shit is missing all of the sudden. No more flowery blouses or cute boleros or miniskirts - most interestingly, your matching underwear sets. They’ve all gone ghost and of course, you don’t necessarily blame your pets. They’re not messy. Never once had an instance of them chewing anything up, leaving refuse about the place - no, never them. But you don’t find those clothes even when you do your laundry, shake every fucking thing out of that hamper til the lint makes you sneeze, dig through your drawers (cause maybe you just shoved them back inside??? maybe??).

No cigar. You put everything back where it needs to be and step out of your room.

In a last ditch effort, you opt to check that storage room. You don’t anticipate finding anything but dashed dreams and wasted efforts - maybe a Savage X Fenty shopping spree to tide you over - potentially an exorcism to vanquish the ghost who’s taken such a liking to you fucking underwear.

You hear rattling. Like can filled with mung beans shake - shaking down the hall. You really don’t want to be mad or jump to a conclusion - so you wait until your right in front of the door to say for certain that yes, it’s one of those hybrids. You don’t know which name to get ready to scream because you haven’t seen either all morning, rattling the door knob with sweaty palms as you fill your lungs to-

Wheeze.

What you see is … You’re not entirely sure but it knocks the air of your lungs - makes you draw breath that you cannot exhale.

Scratch that - you are certain, you just really, really don’t want to believe it.

The room itself is in no state of disarray. But a crude hill of clothes that was certainly not there before has formed, and holding a pair of your panties in one hand is Rindou - who jerks his cock.. Ahm… cocks, with heated fervor; not interested in your presence immediately, which gives you the grace of time. You swallow your shock, open your mouth -

Before you are shoved into the room entirely from behind. Ran was always a bit big for a Naga, but he didn’t sacrifice stealth for size. You would have fallen on your knees if he hadn’t caught you, the strength he has in one arm perhaps more than you had in your whole body. Rindou acknowledges you then, tauntingly as he rubs your precious velvet panties across the length of his shaft, a wanton moan that breaks into a cruel giggle as Ran proceeds to move you forward.

“What the fuck. Rindou! Ran! What on earth-” You’re jostled. They smile and laugh like there’s a joke you’re not in on. As he forces you closer to Rindou’s cocks, you can smell his musk - the overpowering scent of cum and sex as Ran carries you forward, ignoring your belligerent hollering as your attempts to slip from his grasp prove futile. Ran’s smell dominates your olfactory sense and there’s something about his vulgar display you can’t pry your eyes away from. His dicks are massive; thick at the base where it comes out of the slit, with ribbed edges that you can’t parse. You can hardly imagine something like that fitting inside a human.

“Stop it you fucking snakes! Let! Me! Go!” You flail and fidget but they only chuckle and hiss; playful in their expressions but not in their actions. They aren’t talking in words you can understand either - fucking assholes. You’re angry until Rindou’s cock is bobbing right in front of your face. Then your mouth goes dry and you’re stammering and you don’t know what to do other than -

“Suck it, human.” He commands. You whine.

“No - I’m not putting that thing in m-my, “ He pushes the head of one against your lip until it pops into your mouth, muffling any protest that follows. Ran has already busied himself with your bottom half. He’s gotten your shorts and underwear down to your ankles, using his tail to support your body as Rin focuses on shoving his cock down your throat. The other rubs across your throat and feels strange but not unpleasant.

Ran uses his tongue. It’s too long and slimy and makes you whimper, Rin shudders and groans; thrusts the rest of his cock into your throat, and Ran preps you brusquely - spurned by his brother’s fun, raises your hips and all but impales you on his dick; you jerk and moan around Rindou’s girth, your jaw cramping and your hole stretching-

Kinda like a fucked up see-saw. When you slide off one cock, the other’s rushing to greet ya.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀don't be shy !⠀send this user a message!⠀૮ • ﻌ - ა

#tokyo revengers #tokrev smut #tokyo revengers smut #mikey x reader #izana x reader #shinichiro x reader #ran haitani x reader #rin haitani x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #🌩️ L1GHTN1NG_STRIKE5.pdf

734 notes · View notes