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#i want to make it something big or nothing
fairy-angel222 · 1 day
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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃? 𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ⋆⭒˚.⋆༄
—gojo satoru x fem! reader
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𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ your husband’s already given you two children, one more wouldn’t hurt right?
𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ cw: fluff, smut, breeding, praise, petnames, squirting, impregnation, dirty talk
𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ a/n: requested by anon, i loved writing this so much
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Eight years.
You and Gojo had been married for eight years. Having met each other in high school, him being the one to get down on one knee the second you both had finished college. He knew you were the one for him ages ago.
That you were his from the moment he met you.
Some would say that you two were living the dream life, despite how young you both were. Gojo never hiding the fact that he was willing to spoil you day by night.
He loved you more than anything. And he never failed to show that through the many acts of affection. His favorite one being buried deep inside you as he whispered the sweet nothings into your ear.
The sex drive of your marriage was high, that was a fact. It was how you ended up with two children in the first place. Two girls who looked exactly like their dad, not even bothering to try with your genes. They had his complexion, his hair, his overly beautiful eyes. They had everything of his.
When you had your first daughter, most people in your life assumed she was an accident. Assumed that Gojo had simply “forgotten” to pull out.
They didn’t know how noisy you’d gotten that night, holding onto your husband tightly as you begged him to fill you up. Begged him to put a baby in you. You wanted to feel all of him.
Your second child was all him. Him begging to give you another one. To pump you nice and full with one more baby. And who were you to say no? You two were building a family and you loved it.
Four and two.
Those were your daughters’ ages, beautiful girls who looked almost identical to each other, obviously. You liked to call them and Gojo triplets. And it made his heart swell knowing that they were something you had both created. Together. Even though they clearly had a favorite already.
His daughters clung to him every second that he was around them. Refusing to let daddy go as your youngest sat in his lap with an adorable grin. Giggling softly as her big sister tied scrunchies into the soft bed of white hair.
“Mommy look! Daddy’s all pretty now,” she clapped, clearly proud of her work as she pulled lightly at the short ponytails.
You watched Gojo grumble under his breath, unable to hide his smile as he looked up at your standing frame. Cheeks tinted red when you laughed softly. “He is baby, he’s very pretty now. Looks just like you two.” Leaning down to peck both their cheeks with a smile of your own.
You yelped softly as you were pulled down, sat on the other side of your husband’s lap as he smirked. “You know who’s just as perfect as you two? Your mommy.”
Your older daughter hummed, cuddling into your lap with a nod. “You are very pretty mommy. Wanna look like you when i get big.”
You couldn’t find the words. As much as you knew that was impossible, it warmed your heart to the core. Especially when your other daughter nodded in agreement, fitting herself on you beside her sister. “You’re very very pretty mommy.”
“Thanks my babies.” You smiled warmly, an arm wrapped around each of them as Gojo wrapped one around you. “Now, you owe me a little kiss too.” He pouted. You giggled, pressing your lips to his in a short kiss before pulling away.
Neither of you wanting to hear the exaggerated ewww that escaped from your daughters’ mouths when you kissed for even a second too long.
You liked to think that you got lucky to have such sweet children. The kind that makes others actually want a child of their own.
You loved your life. Everyone could see that. But it had been way too long since you and Gojo were able to spend some alone time together.
It wasn’t your idea, it was his. And you couldn’t not give in when you allowed yourself to think about it. A weekend all to yourselves with complete privacy. A chance for you both to relax.
It was Friday, and you rung the doorbell to your dear friend Nanami’s house, a childish grin on Gojo’s face as he waited for the door to swing open.
Nanami raised a brow upon seeing you two, a cup of coffee in his hand as if you’d interrupted his peaceful morning.
“Uncle Kentooo!!” Two high pitched voices rung out. Little legs running to hug the blond man by his own. Nanami’s eyes widened momentarily, steadying the mug in his hand away from the two latching on to him.
A small smile gracing his face when they grinned up at him. “Well hello you two.”
Gojo grabbed the cup from his friend when your daughters started making upsie signals with their hands. Nanami picking them both up on either side of his torso, turning sharply on his heel as he asked them about their week.
“If that isn’t the sweetest thing I don’t know what is.” You giggled, Gojo’s hand on the small of your back as you brought in two pink princess bags. “So.. Kento-”
“We need a favor.” Gojo was quick to cut to the chase, Nanami not bothering to even watch him as he let small hands play in his hair. His emotions far from the bored expression on his face.
“I’ll watch them.”
“Thank you so much Kento. My parents will be coming for them tonight.” You smiled, the man only nodding with a hidden shrug. “You’re just lucky they’re nothing like him.” Pointing his head in the direction of the man sat next to you.
“Hey!” Gojo gasped in faux offense, “I’m awesome thank you very much.”
Nanami only scoffed. And you and Gojo stood up to give your girls a final hug and kiss to their foreheads. “We’ll see you on Sunday okay my darlings? Grandma and grandpa will come for you later yeah? Mommy and Daddy love you so much.”
“Uh huh, bye mommy, bye daddy!” They sung together, something else that they tended to do from time to time.
As you walked out of Nanami’s house, ready to go home and pack a few clothes, your head tilted. Confusion evident on your face when you looked up at Gojo. “Doesn’t he have work today?”
“Yeah but he adores them. He’d skip work everyday if he had to.”
It was true, Nanami was one of your biggest supports. He was always willing to take them off your hands for even an hour. He hated to admit it but he loved them like they were his own. He truly thought of himself as an uncle.
You found it adorable how serious he was until he was sure you left. Allowing himself to give into their tea parties and makeovers. He was one of the people you trusted most.
You knew that your daughters were in good hands for the day, especially since Nobara and Yuji would be there. Their inner children coming out whenever they were around your daughters.
Gojo had taken you to a hot spring resort nearly two hours away. One of the best that he could find.
You were in awe the second you stepped into the place. Never getting used to the amount of money Gojo was willing to spend on you.
The room was huge, and to say it was gorgeous was an understatement. But it paled in comparison to the view. The large steaming pools which were adorned with large marble sloped rocks and tall trees. The whole resort enclosed within mountains which seemed to touch the clouds. The sun setting behind beds of luscious green as the sky glimmered pink and orange.
It was perfect.
Snd the first thing you did after settling in was head into the heated waters. Breathing out contented sigh as you sunk neck down. Allowing the warmth to calm every last one of your nerves. The tension you didn’t even know you had in your shoulder slowing subsiding as you leaned your head back onto one of the large rocks.
“This is amazing.” You smiled, blinking your eyes open to look at your husband, who kept complaining that the area he was in was too hot. Not allowing himself to go any further than his legs until you pulled him into a hug.
Letting the water flow in place at your shoulders. Ignoring the over dramatic faces that your husband was making at the “heat”, simply resting your head in his neck as you relaxed in each other’s arms.
The tv blared ever so slightly as you cuddled into Gojo’s side. The coolness of the room unable to beat the warmth that still stuck to your skin. You had just got off a call with the girls. They were at their grandparents’ house. No doubt having way too much dessert before bed. Though they’d most likely get to stay up late watching cartoons.
“You know..” Gojo started, his fingers trailing soft shapes on your skin, “We should have another one.”
You lifted your head off of his chest, “I don’t think they’ll sell us drinks right now love.”
“I’m not talking about drinks.” Your stomach fluttered when Gojo turned you over, his knee in between your thigh as his lips ghosted over your ear. “I’m talking about putting another baby in you.” Allowing it to brush over your clothed clit.
Your lips parted in a whimper when he kissed down your neck. Swiftly pulling off your shirt to kiss at your chest, taking each of your nipples into his mouth while he fondled the other. Your hips bucking up into him when he began grinding his hips slowly into you.
You shivered when his lips touched your belly. Peppering it with small kisses as he hummed against your skin. “Let me make your belly swell.”
You moaned softly, nodding your head eagerly. “P-please.”
“Hmm, gonna give me a third one sweet girl? Gonna make us a pretty family of five?” He husked, kisses getting more aggressive as he trailed back up. His cock twitching at the little whimpers that you failed to contain when you made a noise of agreement.
“Mhm, ‘m gonna give you another one. Wanna give you another one.”
“Yeah?” He breathed, looking for that final bit of confirmation before his lips smashed onto yours. The kiss hard and needy as he worked on removing the rest of your clothes. His fingers dipping down between your folds with a groan. “You’re so soaked f’ me pretty.”
He ran his hand up your slit teasingly, rubbing tiny circles onto your clit making you whine out. “Toruu, no teasing.”
He chuckled, his thick cock prodding at your entrance as he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. Your hands instinctively draping around his shoulders so that he was pressed into you. A loud moan sounding through the room as he sank into you.
You let a small mewl escape your lips with every movement of his hips. His thrusts gradually increasing in pace till he was hammering into you. Pulling his length almost all the way out before slamming it back into you.
Bright blue eyes met yours, your breathing getting heavier as your back arched off the bed. Nails digging into the skin of his back as you were rocked back and forth. Your husband’s thick cock stretching you out so deliciously as it repeatedly kissed your sweet spot. The position allowing him so deep inside you that he bulged lightly in your stomach.
“Toru, nngh— so good. Ahh.” You were getting noisy. Your cute babbles mixing with the loud echoes of his skin hitting yours. The mere force of his loving making it twice as loud.
You could only moan shakily as you pulled him even closer. Drool covered lips parting in sweet cries when your nails scratched down his back. “O-oh fuck. Ahhh.”
“Taking me so well. My pretty little wifey, can’t wait to see you carrying my child again. Fuck,” He grunted, squelching noises growing louder as your sticky pussy leaked onto your thighs and his. The whole roomed filled with your lewd sounds of pleasure as you both fell into each other. “Gonna fill you up real good baby. Stuff that messy pussy so full of my cum and watch that belly swell.”
Your legs trembled at his words, your hold on him tightening as the rhythmic slapping clouded your brain. Your vision blurring with tears as your stomach tightened. Every nerve along your walls being set on fire as you were fucked like you’d disappear in any moment.
Gojo’s sinking to elbows at the sides of your head for you to cry into his broad chest when you felt yourself nearing your high. “Toruu— so good Toruu, so g-good.”
“Hmm you’re close f’me,” he groaned, your pussy holding him snug as your body shook. “Shit, gonna make you a mama of three. Gonna give it to ya so deep— f-fuckk. Look at me when you cum.” He whispered lowly, your glassy eyes peeling open to blink up at him dumbly.
“Nngh— ‘m, a-ahhh, Toru ‘m so c-close.” You couldn’t think. Your brain unable to process anything but him and the way his cock was fucking into you so good. Your thoughts blanking out as you were engulfed by an indescribable pleasure. Mouth opened in a final cry as you fell off the edge.
“That’s it. Cum f’ me baby. Make a fucking mess on my cock. There you go— just like that.” His thrusts never slowed as a high pitched scream bubbled in your throat. Your body trembling uncontrollably beneath him as you let go. Sopping pussy gushing all over him just the way he liked it. His thrusts never losing their pace as you squirted with a continuous string of moans.
Your husband’s thrusts got sloppy. Head falling into the crook of your neck as he unknowingly slowed down. His thrusts hard and deep as he moaned into your delicate skin. Finding it adorable how your little mewls began to match his pace.
“Love this pussy so fucking much. Could pump her full of my cum every fucking day. Shit— here it comes baby.” His slow thrusts synced with his words, lips capturing yours hungrily as he buried himself deep inside you. Tip sat at your cervix’s entrance when his cock twitched. Spurts after spurts of the the thick substance flooding your insides with heat.
Gojo pulled away from you, a small string of saliva connecting your lips to each other’s. You stayed clung to him like a koala to a tree. Tiredly smiling up at him when he pecked your nose. “If we keep having children every two years we’ll end up with fifty grandkids.”
He chuckled, resting his forehead against yours. “So, what are we gonna name her?”
“Her?”
“You have only sisters baby, i don’t think it’s in your genes to have a boy.” He joked, both of you laughing as you thought to the truth of his words.
“I wouldn’t mind a boy,” You sighed softly, using your finger to brush away the loose strands of hair that fell over his eyes. “I think he’d look just like you.”
Gojo’s hand rested on your belly, using his thumb to rub over it softly. “I’d love either, only cause i’d know that i made them with you.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you so much.”
“ And I love you more than you could ever imagine sweet girl.”
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sansaorgana · 3 days
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— STILL PURE
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PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — Feyd yells at his daughter for interrupting him at work. His wife confronts him about his behaviour as she tries to explain to the little Countess that her father was never taught how to express love.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — Feyd is already the Baron in this fic but I assumed women cannot inherit on Giedi Prime so the daughter is "only" a Countess while her younger brother is a Na-Baron. I used my headcanon that if half-Harkonnen children have hair, then they're white because they lack pigment. I also wanted her to have big black Harkonnen eyes so badly... Basically, I wanted Feyd's daughter to look like this:
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WORD COUNT — 2,990
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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STILL PURE
Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was circling around the big table in the conference room where the huge orb of Giedi Prime had been replaced with Arrakis’ one as one of his advisors was explaining the difficult situation regarding the spice production. The new wave of Fremen rebels who worshipped the long gone and deceased Muad’Dib decided to continue their idol’s legacy as they sabotaged the spice production controlled by The Harkonnen forces. The Governor of Arrakis was slowly losing control over the situation and Feyd would rather avoid going there himself. He was needed on Giedi Prime – especially now when The Emperor was on his deathbed. He had to be around in case something important would happen and everyone knew The Baron had his eyes set on the Imperial Throne. Feyd had to choose a new Governor of Arrakis or provide the current one with good advice, hoping for the Fremen problem to disappear soon. It was worrying him because it was giving him a bad reputation at the moment for having problems on Arrakis – it could make some leaders of the great houses to think he was not worthy enough to become the next Emperor.
Feyd’s hands were clasped behind his back as he circled like a shark and all his advisors looked down, taking a step back whenever he approached them. They knew his temper would only rise when he was angered whenever he would experience problems of such nature when it came to reigning over The Harkonnen properties.
“What does the Fremen leader say? Stilgar? That was his name?” Feyd barked at one of the scared advisors.
“Stilgar says he has no control over the cultists. He does not support their actions. He wants nothing but peace, my Lord,” the man bowed his head.
“How bad is it? The most important thing so far is to keep the problem on Arrakis a secret,” Feyd hummed to himself.
“Five percent of the decrease in the spice production income,” the other advisor answered. “Not bad, but can be noticeable in the amount we export.”
“We shall export some of our own private reserves to cover the loss. In the meantime, we have to deal with the cultists,” Feyd decided, already annoyed at the fact he had to sacrifice his own supplies just to cover up the careless governing of Arrakis which was not his fault. “Send more troops there, the operation should be classified confidential. Threaten Lord Volonov to take care of it. He’s got a month before I replace him with someone more capable…”
Quiet pat pat pat sound coming from the corridor was becoming louder and louder until the black doors finally opened slightly and the guard standing by them spotted a pair of two big black eyes staring up at him. 
“My Lord,” he tried to catch The Baron’s attention but Feyd had his back turned on him as he angrily explained the details of the operation to his advisors.
Little Countess Sevina Harkonnen gave the guard puppy eyes as she struggled with the heavy doors. She wanted to come inside and he didn’t know what to do. He was aware that his Lord Baron did not want to be interrupted but he didn’t want to close the door in the girl’s face either. He peeked outside but there was no servant around and The Baroness was not there either. He decided it would be better for the girl to come inside instead of letting her roam around the fortress alone.
She smiled widely at him and jumped inside the room happily as her white hair bounced. She was lucky enough to inherit most of her mother’s looks although her skin was paler, her hair lacked pigment and her pupils were nothing but two completely big black orbs – those were the eyes even her father did not have but they were a result of the pollution her mother’s body had been exposed to on Giedi Prime at the time of her pregnancy.
Not realising how tense the atmosphere in the room was, she approached her father as all the advisors and servants were making wide eyes at her. She stood behind The Baron and pulled on his shirt to make him turn around.
At first, he flinched at the odd feeling of someone pulling him. Who would dare to do that? He turned around quickly with an angry expression on his face but then he looked down and spotted his little daughter. She startled a bit at the sight of his annoyance but she kept staring at him with her big black eyes filled with love and excitement.
“What are you doing here?” Feyd barked at her.
“Can you play with me, daddy?” She pleaded with a big grin.
A few lords smirked at that and Feyd’s jaw clenched. Not only had she interrupted him but also humiliated him.
“Can’t you fucking see that I’m busy?!” He lashed out at her and she took a step back as her eyes filled with tears and betrayal. “Get out of here!” He pointed at the doors.
They opened at that very moment as the nanny entered the room and looked around, surprised at the sight of scared faces and the little Countess being in the centre of attention.
“There you are!” She opened her arms at the sight of the girl. “I’ve told you not to interrupt your father, he’s in the middle of a meeting,” she reminded nervously as the girl ran up to her and hid her face in the folds of her skirt. “Forgive me, my Lord,” the nanny bowed her head at Feyd-Rautha.
“You’re useless,” he drawled. “Get out.”
“Y-yes, my Lord,” the woman held Sevina’s hand and walked out as quickly as possible.
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You left the nursery where your son na-baron had just fallen asleep. On your way back to your chambers, you passed by the doors leading to your daughter’s room and you froze at the muffled sound of sobbing. Concerned, you decided to enter without knocking.
Little Sevina was crying on her bed as the scared nanny tried to calm her down by rubbing her back and shushing her.
“What is going on?” You asked as the doors closed behind you.
“M-my Lady Baroness,” the nanny stood up and straightened herself to bow down slightly.
“What happened? Why is she crying?” You asked her in an accusing tone.
“I… I lost her out of my sight when we were playing earlier today, I’m sorry… I found the young Countess in her father’s conference room. She had interrupted The Baron during a council… I think he lashed out at her, my Lady…” the woman tried to explain nervously as her hands shook.
“You’re useless,” you sighed and she widened her eyes. “Get out, I’ll deal with that myself,” you pointed at the doors and she bowed down once again before leaving quickly.
You approached the bed and sat on the edge of it as Sevina raised her head to look at you. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of her cheeks covered in tears.
“What happened, sweet darling?” You asked her gently while you caressed her back.
“Why doesn’t daddy love me?” She asked with so much pain and sincerity in her tiny, shaky voice that you nearly cried yourself.
You knew it wasn’t true. Feyd-Rautha loved his daughter. Even though he had been a bit disappointed she was not a son in the beginning – he had only said not to worry about it much; that the boy would come next. He had been treating Sevina as if she was made of glass in the first months of her life, so scared of accidentally hurting her because hurt was all he knew.
“Oh, Sevina, don’t think that…” You sighed and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Daddy loves you so much,” you assured her but of course she wasn’t convinced. “He would kill and die for you, little girl,” you added.
“I don’t want him to kill and die for me, mummy,” Sevina sobbed as those were the concepts she was too young to grasp. “I just want daddy to play with me.”
“He doesn’t know how to play, Sevina,” you fixed her ruffled hair while trying to explain calmly. “He didn’t have a mummy or daddy when he was your age. The way I kiss you or hug you and play with you… He has never had it, darling,” you felt a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You were angry at your husband for yelling at your daughter and making her feel unloved but you were also angry at all the suffering that he had gone through in his past.
There were scars and damages that could never be undone, no matter how much you loved someone.
“And you’re big enough to know that daddy shouldn’t be interrupted when he’s working. You know that he tends to get angry more easily then,” you reminded her. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I wanted daddy to play with me,” she snuggled closer to you and you kissed the top of her head, rubbing her tiny arms with your thumbs and cradling her softly to calm her down.
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Feyd had been back in your chambers already when you entered. You froze at the sight of him, irritated. However, he seemed to act as usual.
“Five percent,” he snapped at you, although not angrily. “We will have to replace the loss with our own supply so the other lords don’t realise we are expecting problems on Arrakis. That stupid son of a bitch Volonov can’t handle a few cultists and…”
“I don’t care about any of that,” you interrupted him and turned your back on him to approach your vanity table and sit by it, pretending to be more interested in reapplying the powder.
“What?” Feyd was visibly surprised as he watched you in disbelief. You had always been a support for him, especially in difficult times. You both had been plotting on how to take over the Imperial Throne and now you weren’t interested in something as important as the problems with harvesting spice on Arrakis? It didn’t make sense to him.
You ignored him and focused on brushing your hair now, watching him from the corner of your eye in the reflection of the mirror of your vanity table. He approached you, hesitantly.
“What do you mean you’re not interested?” He tilted his head as he leaned in, trying to intimidate you but you didn’t even flinch.
“I’ve just spent an hour calming down Sevina. You yelled at her,” you eventually looked up to look deep into his eyes. He took a deep breath in, irritated.
“She should have learnt by now not to interrupt me,” Feyd straightened his back and walked away. “She’s spoiled,” he added. “Knows nothing about discipline. It’s your fault.”
“She’s a little girl,” you turned around. “You can’t expect military habits from her. She’s your daughter, Feyd.”
“She’s lucky I only yelled. If I interrupted my uncle as a child like that, I’d be punished!” He raised his voice at you, frustrated that you were defending your daughter and making a problem out of something that he considered to be normal.
You hated it when he would raise his voice at you. You stood up angrily and yelled as well.
“Oh, so you think she should be raised the same way you were?!” You asked. “Alright then! Go to her room, grab her by the neck and flog her back with a whip just because she wanted to play with her father!” You pointed at the doors furiously as your eyes were burning with wrath. “Go on! I dare you.”
But Feyd didn’t even move. His jaw was clenched as he was staring at you speechlessly.
“Go. What are you waiting for?” You kept pushing him. “Go on.”
You kept looking into his eyes with so much intensity he eventually gave up and looked down, awkwardly as the guilt started to creep in. You won.
“You rejected her. She thinks you don’t love her,” your voice calmed down but it was still vicious. “And I was assuring her that you do but it felt as if I was assuring myself, too,” you added, just to hurt him. “I can’t stand to look at you, Feyd-Rautha,” you drawled and approached the doors to leave him alone but not without striking the final blow. “I can’t believe I wanted to give you children so badly,” you turned your head to look at him as he looked up, surprised at your words, “because you don’t deserve them.”
The doors opened in front of you and you walked out to go back to your daughter.
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You were sitting on the black fluffy carpet in the middle of Sevina’s room. She was on your lap, with her tiny arms around your neck, cuddling you. There were toys scattered all around the floor but she wanted to take a break for the loving cuddles. She was very unusual for a half-Harkonnen and you were very aware of the fact she was making most people around feel uncomfortable.
Not only her father but everyone in the fortress were stiff around sweet little Sevina who was so full of life and curiosity, always wanting to hug everyone – even servants and guards. Wherever she went, there was a sound of laughter and a sudden feeling of warmth. Countess Sevina Harkonnen was the very first little girl living in that fortress in a long time and she was so different from all its inhabitants. She was too young to know that she was a daughter of Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen – a man feared all over the Empire. That her bloodline was cursed with death and violence. She was still pure and innocent. Perhaps she was a living proof that The Harkonnens were not born this way after all – but they were made in the endless cycle of abusive upbringing. You did not want the same fate for her. You knew she would have to get rougher with time but you hoped she would still remain gentle, too.
The doors to her room opened and you looked up. At the sight of your husband, you protectively put your arm around your little girl. You doubted that he wanted to do what you had angrily suggested before but you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t anyway. Sevina stiffened at the sight of her father and clung to you. It brought you pain to realise that at that very moment she was afraid of him.
“Sevina, we have to talk,” Feyd stood above you two as he started in a serious tone. You gave him a scolding look and your little girl hid her face in the crook of your neck, hiding. “You know perfectly well not to interrupt me while I’m working.”
Long silence occurred. You could see Feyd’s struggle as he had no idea what to do to fix this situation between him and his daughter.
“Sevina, apologise to daddy,” you looked down and she looked up with tears in her big black eyes. “You shouldn’t have interrupted him and you know that, darling,” your voice was soft and calm and she sniffed.
“I’m sorry, daddy,” Sevina turned her body around to face him but she refused to look at him.
“Now, you apologise to Sevina for being mean,” you looked up at your husband and you spotted panic in his eyes. “Now,” you insisted sternly.
“I’m sorry for being mean to you,” Feyd crouched down to be on her level. She hesitantly looked at him. “Can I get a hug, too?” He asked and his voice broke a tiny bit. 
Slitting someone’s throat open was less awkward and unusual to him than to ask for a hug. Your heart ached for him but you were an adult capable of understanding his patterns. Sevina was not. 
Her heart was big, though, and she loved her father, so she would forgive him everything. She nodded her head with a happy smile and ran into his arms to squeeze him tight. Tears pricked your eyes at the sight.
“I love you, darling,” Feyd whispered quietly with his cheek pressed to the top of her head. “I would kill for you. I would die for you,” he confessed.
“But she doesn’t want any of that,” you explained. “She just wants you to spend time with her.”
“Is that right?” He looked down at his little girl and she looked up with her puppy eyes as she nodded. Her tiny hands reached out to cup his face.
“I love you, daddy,” she assured him. “Can you play with me?”
“I don’t know how to play, I’m sorry,” he admitted with guilt in his voice.
“I will teach you,” she hugged him again.
Feyd put his arms around his little girl and pulled her closer. You crawled on the carpet to give him a hug, too. You could feel that he was slightly trembling, so you leaned in to place a kiss on his temple as your hand caressed his head soothingly.
“It’s not weak to show affection,” you reminded him in a whisper. “I’ve never loved you more than when you are like this.”
Feyd laid his eyes on you. They were filled with a mix of pain, guilt and relief. At the end of the day, the only approval he was seeking was yours. You had him wrapped around your little finger.
“So, how do you want to play?” He asked Sevina as he caressed her white hair with admiration. She clapped her hands cheerfully.
“I want to be a Princess,” her eyes sparkled. “And you’ll be my guard.”
Feyd chuckled at that, showing off his black teeth. Sevina giggled as she had never found them scary.
“Soon enough, my darling one, you’ll be a real Princess,” he assured her.
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MASTERLIST
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hightowered · 2 days
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and you know i gotta say. the vast majority of the people losing their shit this weekend made it very clear that they do not understand the difference between "artists who want a measure of comfort in their lives" and "the billionaires actually being targeted by phrases like eat the rich." that is such a weird thing to be so proud to announce to the whole entire internet.
it's also extremely weird to behave as though any individual is entitled to an artist's work for free. or that the audience should be the final say in determining what an artist creates. there is a major difference between the betrayal of an artist who produces art and then banks on their social capital to engage in harmful, violent, bigoted behavior (like jk rowling) and the "betrayal" of an artist who decides that they should be or need to be compensated for their work. the latter isn't actually a betrayal at all. it's just a shift.
the thing is that the watcher boys didn't invent capitalism, they didn't invent the streaming model, they didn't invent youtube or patreon. they aren't getting 100% of the money from either. their merch doesn't magically appear as if made by elves while they sleep. their videos don't happen out of nowhere and without incurring bills. they have a business which employs people, and sure, you can say they employ too many people, but do they actually? a bunch of randos on the internet don't actually know that. they don't know these job titles, or how necessary it is to have everyone there. it's pure speculation. the entire company exists within a system they did not invent and are trying to stay afloat in said system while a bunch of assholes on the internet berate them for not acquiescing to their every whim at the expense of their artistic integrity, their ability to compensate their staff fairly, and their ability to keep making art.
and jumping from "i want to continue enjoying this artist's work for free" to "i think people should be fired and the remaining employees should be given greater responsibilities and more tasks to complete" is wild to me. there's nothing leftist in that and so trying to leverage leftist jargon to prove some sort of moral superiority is fucking wild, it's disingenuous, and it's sketchy as hell. you're allowed to be disappointed. you're not magically exempt from being told you're being an asshole if you decide your disappointment entitles you to take part in asshole behavior.
"but we don't want something heavily produced and we don't want these shows" then don't watch! that's it! don't watch! you are not being held hostage and forced to engage with this content. you have the choice not to. throwing a tantrum and launching racist vitriol at steven lim and demanding he step down as CEO shows a level of entitlement and childishness that, frankly, i wish they could have ignored, but they're both kinder & more patient than i am.
anyway congratulations to watcher on their new streaming service and their gorgeous new website, congratulations to the boys on a new step in their careers and on achieving something they've made clear they've wanted for ages, thank you to the boys for all their hard work and for sharing their creativity with us. thank you too for taking such a big and genuinely brave step to no longer be beholden to major corporations and advertisers so you can make the art you want to make. thank you to steven lim for taking so many steps back to keep the company running and for doing your best in a shit economy and while being targeted by this kind of nastiness online. and thank you to the entire team at @wearewatcher for continuing to do amazing work despite being treated like shit by the fan community at large on the internet while you're trying to make a living and create art. you all deserve better than you've been shown of late and i hate that such an exciting moment got overshadowed by so many temper tantrums.
because the whole fucking point, the dream, is getting to make the art that matters to them, without being held back. i'm sorry y'all don't want the heavily produced and high quality shit but your preferences as a member of an audience are not the law by which artists should abide. they are artists and they are free to, and deserve to, make the art they want to make.
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pomefioredove · 2 days
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only one bed room
summary: it's the sdc and everyone's staying over at ramshackle but, oh no! you're one room and one bed short. being the generous (or gullible) soul that you are, you agree to share characters: all sdc competitors, separate additional info: fair warning I have no replayed book 5 in a while, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, most scenarios end in cuddles. can be interpreted as romantic or platonic (nix vil and rook's part)
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Deuce Spade
"I don't mind sleeping on the floor!"
it's a big fat no from Vil. waking up sore and tired is unacceptable, and will affect his performance during practice. he will use the bed, end of story.
you offer to take the floor or one of the many stiff and uncomfortable couches in Ramshackle, but he refuses
what kind of aspiring honor student would he be if he kicked you out of your own room?
so, yes, you end up sharing the bed
he's a perfect gentleman about it
he insists on sleeping on the complete opposite end of the bed
to give you your space, of course
not because he's nervous
obviously it doesn't pan out- he's kind of a messy sleeper, and on the first night you wake up with him sprawled on top of you
you decide not to wake him up
you'd been thinking about saving for a weighted blanket, anyway
Ace Trappola
"you better not hog the blankets,"
takes it like a champ, though he might be screaming internally
he already sleeps in a dorm with three other guys- this can't be any different, right?
it totally is
sharing a bed with someone? someone he likes, who he isn't just forced to live with for convenience?
he's not sure how to tease you about this one without coming off as nervous himself
so he just shuts his trap about it (for once) and accepts his fate
in the end, it's no big deal for a player like him
he ends up hogging the blankets, though. hypocrite.
Kalim al-Asim
"YAYYY SLEEPOVER!"
he means exactly what he says
not a care in the world
all he's thinking about is how fun this is going to be! just him and his favorite Ramshackle prefect (Grim heard the news and will be staying in deuce's room to avoid any cracker mishaps)
Kalim, admittedly, is not a creature of great thought. he tends to be dictated by his feelings, and he can be a little selfish sometimes
so when Jamil pulled him aside and asked him to just buy another bed for ramshackle, he ignored him entirely
why would he do that? the situation is resolved, and everyone's happy!
well... not everyone, but Kalim's happy!
he stocks up on Vil-approved snacks, insists you two braid each other's hair and stay up late into the night talking with no one to remind you to go to sleep
(he tried to invite Jamil and got the door slammed in his face)
this arrangement lasts approximately one night
when Vil sees the dark circles under your eyes, it's over
you are confined to the couch, and Kalim is forced to sleep alone
Jamil Viper
"okay,"
really. he's totally fine with it.
besides the fact that he doesn't want to cause any more trouble, he's shared beds with his siblings before. no big deal
he just wasn't expecting to wake up with you snuggled against him
but this is fine
totally fine
he's barely conscious and it's early morning, still dark, the time he's used to getting up at
Vil has things covered, right? he can stay here for a little while longer. it would be awkward trying to get up without waking you
it feels nice having something all to himself for once
he smirks, imagining how jealous everyone else would be:
the beautiful, kind, intelligent ramshackle prefect in his arms? oh, the looks on their faces would almost make this whole thing worth it!
but in the end, he decides to say nothing
he wants to keep you all to himself, after all
for just a little while longer
Epel Felmier
"ain't no way I'm sharing!"
that's what he says in his head, anyway. but it's late and he's worn out from practice (and being shouted at) so he just sighs and accepts his fate
of course Vil would make him do it. it's probably because he's the smallest, isn't it?
you can tell he's unhappy with the arrangement (not that he's making much of a secret of it- he's grumbling under his breath all evening)
he starts coming around to the idea when he wakes up holding something warm
his heart jumpstarts and he nearly panics before remembering where he is
and then he realizes the thing he's holding is... you. somehow the two of you had ended up spooning during the night
but, more importantly... he's the big spoon!
he's almost tempted to wake you to announce that he, in all his manly glory, had naturally assumed the most masculine cuddling position!
(yes he sounds ridiculous. just let him have this one)
he lets you sleep, though. just a little more won't hurt anyone, right?
he's okay with the arrangement after that
Rook Hunt
"I will do it!"
Vil isn't even able to finish his sentence before the vice housewarden is practically jumping up and down
pretty much everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief; a volunteer! thank the sevens. otherwise, this could get awkward...
of course, he quite intentionally ends up with you in his arms
but not for any nefarious purpose, he insists!
he's a light sleeper, and can be stirred by any sudden noise or movement
you appeared to be having some kind of nightmare
it reminds him of a small animal caught in a trap, struggling for its life. he can't bear to see it- it's cruel to let a poor creature go on suffering before you can make the kill
of course, instead of killing you (thank the sevens), he decides to comfort you
he presses your head against his chest so you can hear his heartbeat, and he runs his fingers through your hair until you calm down.
then he keeps you there, just to be sure you don't have another bad dream
if you gave him permission, he would gladly be all over you in seconds. kissing up and down your shoulders, caressing every perfect inch of your body, whispering words of admiration
but he's perfectly content just cradling you for now
hopefully, you will continue to have these nightmares and give him excuses to do this again
Vil Schoenheit
"don't argue with me,"
initially, you just gave him the bed
maybe you were afraid of him; maybe you like him; maybe you just wanted to avoid a conflict altogether
either way, you spent the first night on the terribly uncomfortable floor, and trudged through Ramshackle like a zombie the next morning
Vil was feeling guilty watching you
what? he's not a monster
and he's a leader, which means he has a responsibility. and you had so graciously invited them all into your home...
fine! he'll share. he insists, even
when you try to argue, he shuts you down, repeating all that stuff about responsibility and hospitality, blah blah
and he doesn't want the team manager dead on their feet
arguing with him is pointless, so you just agree
he wakes up with you against him, sleeping peacefully
now, if it were you clinging to him- he might have had a good chuckle. can't keep your hands to yourself, prefect? I'm just that irresistible?
but the way he's holding you, the way his arms are so tightly wrapped around your waist, the way he's so clearly pressing you against him...
he hates to admit it, but you're an elegant sleeper. it's almost cute
the tension is relieved from your face, your breathing graceful and steady, and your perfect lips open just a sliver...
he is a perfect gentleman, and would never dream of doing anything without your explicit permission, but for one shameful second he thinks about how easy it would be to kiss you
... and then he quickly puts those thoughts aside and tries to get back to sleep
he doesn't want any dark circles, after all
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gremlingottoosilly · 3 days
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okay now i need mafia!könig as a dad and him enjoying his son so much that he fills you up with another😋😋
At least you have nannies and servants to help with his son. Little Paul is a menace even at his young age - and it doesn't help that his father seems to have grown feral as soon as he learned about the pregnancy. It's like a light switch was turned on - it's like everything he wished for, in the form of one small human and his mother. If you think your mafia husband was possessive before, never allowing you to leave his side without a few dozen bodyguards, some more hidden than the others, you knew nothing. It was already three or four months spent without going out for anything - and with servants tending to your son, you've grown bored. Pliant. Paul is breastfed mostly on your whim since you want at least something to do before chirping nannies will go flocking to take him to play. You can't even play with him without a couple of servants trying to get him out of your hands just so you could "rest and prepare yourself for his daddy". You hate having nothing to do - and you hate having Konig fawn over you like your body isn't covered in stretch marks and like remaining pregnancy hormones are not ready to choke him with your bare hands. Konig presses his face against your tummy, now empty - and he whispers how much he'd love to fill it up with his seed again. The doctor advised against having back-to-back pregnancies, judging by how big Paul was and how taxing it was on your body - but Konig just kisses you over and over again. Promises to get you the best medical treatment, whispering how it's fine, he can afford to have multiple children. How much he wants to give your son a baby sister to adore or a baby brother to take care of. You can't force Konig out when he is like this - your baby is in the other room, with his favorite nannies, and your husband is proving that with enough fucking per day, you just wouldn't have time for postpartum depression. Konig can't breed you quite right now, but he does everything in his power to make you remember how nice it was to be filled to the brim, and how much he wants to repeat it. The night always ends with you on your back, begging for his cock - and with him finally fucking you, treating your body like it's made of glass. You never thought that Konig would have such a soft spot for children, but he allows his son to crawl all over him when he gets older, and you have to physically remove baby from his arms or else Konig would just allow him to go to every criminal meeting - and you want to save his innocence for as long as possible. Until, at least, he is old enough to ask why mommy is never allowed outside.
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slvttyplum · 2 days
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HII!! I LOVE YOUR BLOG SO MUCH IT ALWAYS MAKES MY DAY BETTER 😭😭its my fav daily activity at this point
So could I pretty please request for a satosugu discovering their partener likes puthy slaps😟🙏if you want.
thank u so much and I hope ur doing great!
-🎀🦅
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satoru loves discovering new things that you like when it comes to sex, it's like finding a treasure chest filled with gold, he gets greedy with you, and you love him down for that. as long as you and satoru have been together, he's still finding things out, including that you like to get your pussy slapped until you squirt.
the reaction he got out of you when he did it, and you squirted over his lower half, his eyes were shooting out of his head and his heart race quickened, it was something he's never seen before. of course satoru was quick to jump to conclusions so he didn't want to jump to conclusions with this one, he wanted to see if you actually got turned on from having him slap your pussy.
so he waited it out, he didn't do it the last times the both of you had sex, he wanted to make sure you weren't sensitive to his touch, but who was he trying to kid, you were always sensitive when it came to satoru. any slight touch he put on your body, you were going to tingle.
first he had to test you out, he knew his baby was sensitive, so he didn't want to put too much pressure on your core before he even slipped inside of you. his hand rubbing over your warm cunt as one of his fingers brush past your clit, a small whimper sliding past your lips as you cover your face, before you could even rest your arm over your eyes, he took your arm.
“don't hide, i want to look at you.” his hand rubbing over your core again then lifting it up then back down, the contact of him smacking your pussy sent tingles throughout your body immediately. a moan slipping out your mouth and your stomach caving in, it felt so good you could barely comprehend it for the minutes that followed after.
there it was, that cute moan and the way your body jolted when he did it, he knew this wasn't just something that happened because you were at your climax, you actually liked it, and if you liked it then he loved it. so satoru would slap your wet pussy until you came all over him, the reactions that followed made him want to do it again and again until you were crying.
no time for you to do anything beside moan and whimper, his big hand slapping on your pussy every ten seconds, once the tingles of pleasure were dispersing, more rained down on you the more he did it. this wasn't only new to him, but it was also new to you, the sensation was like nothing else he's done to you.
the force of the slap that caused a bit of pain followed by pleasure that submerged you under his hand, this was your new favorite feeling, and you were so glad that he caught on, because he kept doing it until the palm of his hand was red and the painful sensation in his hand took over.
there was no denying that he wanted to keep doing this to you, watching your reactions as he kept doing it, watching you squirm and hold his wrist as he keeps doing this, but he wanted you to ask him, actually no, he wanted you to beg for him to keep doing it. you had to use your words
if there was one thing satoru was going to do was make you ask for the things you wanted, closed mouths don't get fed, if you didn't ask he wasn't going to continue to do it, even if he liked doing it as much as you liked him doing it to you. he wanted you to be up and honest about the things you wanted and liked, even if that meant being embarrassed.
likes why you were blabbering with teary eyes begging him to keep doing it, your mind fuzzy and your back arching from every hit he gave to your pussy, it felt so good that you didn't have time to be a brat and tell him no. you needed his big hands hitting down on you and sending shivers throughout your body while your moans could be heard blocks away.
the way he made you feel clouded all embarrassment that could possibly block you not asking him to keep doing it, his hands were perfect for this, every time he did it. he made you cum, and that's exactly what you needed, new ways for your man to make you cum, even if that meant having a swollen pussy after the fact.
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ghouljams · 13 hours
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Does anyone want to hear about android!Ghost's dick? No?
OK well I wanna talk about it so...
Starting off strong with the "he doesn't have one" argument because what use does he have for one when he's literally built for active duty? Well. First of all who build a robot you can't fuck? Second of all shhhhhhhh.
As it stands he doesn't have one. Not that he doesn't want one or wouldn't use one but the military can be so stingy... so obviously he's gotta enlist his favorite mechanic to make him one. Which is a fun in person request to make. Just showing up to your workshop and telling you he wants a dick while you studiously do not look at his crotch. You can feel him smirking when you ask what he plans to do with it. (He'd get by pretty well with his fingers and *redacted* but nothing beats dick)
So you gotta design a dick for this guy, take measurements, get input, spend hours agonizing over the neuropathways and how you're going to link this in to his synthetic nervous system. Plus like... are you gonna make this thing come? You probably should. If Ghost is going to be using it he should get something out of it.
So now you have to design an orgasm program. Which is easier said than done because how do you quantify that, and how do you code it, and most importantly how do you test it?
Well you test it by hooking Ghost up to the computer and setting the program to run, watching him stiffen and arch his hips into the feeling, swearing in that low mechanically filtered voice as he humps the air. Fuck he looks good. UNPROFESSIONAL THOUGHT. OK you stare at your screen and run a few more variations, asking him to describe each one and rank them. Great orgasm locked and loaded, now you have to set up trigger scenarios.
Which also means when you actually get the android dick to a solid prototype you have to call Ghost in and install it. You reserve the day, clear it with Price (new parts testing, custom made, you tell him. Giving no other details. He doesn't ask) and keep a fire extinguisher and a kill switch nearby while you tell Ghost to... jerk off.
And then you watch him stroke the gorgeous, big, cock you custom designed for him with thick, deft, fingers. And you wait for the orgasm program to trigger. And hope that nothing glitches and he doesn't rip your beautiful masterpiece of a dick off, and also that the come you designed actually comes out at the right time. So you sit there and watch him, press your thighs together and try not to shift in your seat even though you can hear the click of Ghost's cameras as he watches you watching him.
You don't wonder what he's thinking about. You don't focus on the grunt of pleasure he lets out. You do tap at your screen to check the sensitivity levels on the synthskin you used. You do reach to make sure he isn't squeezing too tight or stroking too rough and end up with lube based come spurting onto your face.
Which you suppose means it works.
Which means moving on to partner trials, and your hand tentatively wrapped around Ghost's fat cock. You don't remember why you made it so thick, but it doesn't help the ache between your legs. You try to keep a professional look on your face as you reset the program and start to stroke him with much gentler fingers. You ignore the come staining your face until Ghost swipes his fingers through it and pushes those same fingers into your mouth.
You end up on the workbench with him, grinding your clothed cunt against his firm thigh as you stroke his cock and he pumps his fingers into your drooling mouth. Mutter all manner of filth to you. Greedy whore, desperate piece of meat for him to fuck now that you've made equipment for him. Aren't you a smart little toy to make him exactly what he asked for, and so big too. "That what you want love," he asks, "you want a fat cock to split you open? Look'it you drool, probably tried it out before you stuck it on me."
Even if you didn't you can't say you didn't think about it, didn't drag your fingers over the dick appreciatively. All the scaling in the world, trying to make sure it would look right, fit right, on Ghost's body and you still made it with your preferences in mind. He knows it too. That's why he reminds you what a cock hungry toy you are. "All cooped up in here with no one to show you your place," you drag your tongue along his fingers, work your cunt against him, hope you leave a wet spot on his synth skin, hope he can feel you through the coveralls, "bet you dream about one of your bots holding you down and giving you what you deserve."
You can try and shake your head but he just holds your cheeks, twisting the fingers in your mouth to accommodate. Ghost makes a noise, a sort of clicking sound you can't parse, and tips his head. "Can't lie to me, deserve better than I could give ya, but now?" He pulls his fingers from your mouth and fists your coveralls, pulling purposefully at the material, "Now I've got all day."
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bi-writes · 2 days
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ghost always gets what he wants. (18+, blood kink, dark)
right now, what he wants is sitting across the pub from him. she's smiling, swinging her legs a little as she talks to the bloke next to her. he's leaning into her space, making her laugh, buying her drinks and keeping her smiling and a little drunk. he's putting it on heavy, ghost can tell--actively listening to her, engaging in the conversation, never letting her add her drink to any tab but his own.
ghost tilts his head to the side, running his tongue over his teeth under the mask. that man wouldn't know what to do with that kind of a girl. she's all woman, soft skin, wide hips, a pair of tits he knows would feel like welcome weights between the palms of his gloved hands, pouty lips that deserved to be kissed and bitten and sliding along the length of a cock that can fill her up and choke her from the inside out.
that's what pretty girls like her deserve--to be fucked spineless, to be reduced to nothing but a teary, whimpering mess. a muppet like that would never know what to do with her, how to touch her, how to make her sing.
she's a soft thing. a pretty thing. and he wants her, so he will have her.
you exit the bathroom, a skip in your step as you shuffle outside. he said he would get a car, take you home, and you bounce on your toes as you wait by the curb, looking around the empty parking lot for your ride. but after a few minutes, you turn your head each way, and you realize no one is here, and there is no car coming.
you fully spin around when a dark figure comes out from behind the alleyway. big boots crunch the gravel underneath, and when he comes under the light of the streetlamp, you take a small step back.
the light cuts an angle over his face. you swallow, taking in the breadth of him, tilting your head to look up at him as he steps closer. his mask covers most of his face, and the eyeblack clouds his skin, but you can see the determination in his eyes. it is in the rigidness of his shoulders, the way he stands--and it is the pass of a tactical knife over his chest that you understand the danger that one person can impose.
he wipes one side of it over his dark jacket, stepping closer, until he's in your space, hovering over you. your lips part as he brings the knife down, pressing the other side of it against your throat. you tense a little as he meets your eyes, passing it over until the blood against the sharp edge wipes off, staining the skin of your neck.
he pauses when he sees the hint of a smile on your face. he narrows his eyes, expecting fear, expecting something other than the interest that sparkles in your eyes. like you are all-knowing. like you see everything he is, everything he is not, and like you know what it is he wants.
"i see you," you whisper. "all the time."
ghost sniffs, glaring, and you keep your eyes on his as he drags the knife down your chest, the tip of it moving down between your breasts.
"you're not very subtle," you finish. "quite obvious, what it is that you do...why you do it."
ghost tilts his head to the side, clicking his tongue, and you almost giggle.
"is tha' right, swee'eart?"
you nod.
"been waiting," you say softly.
"for wot?"
you smile.
"for you to make your move," you murmur. your eyes flicker down, eyeing the blood on the front of his jacket. you look up into his eyes again, pursing your lips, and ghost bites his tongue hard enough to draw blood. fuck, the same thing he sees in his dreams, it's in your fucking eyes. you're not afraid, and it angers him, repulses him, and fulfills him all the same. "hmm...you didn't approve of him?"
ghost growls, "was a right muppet. cried like a baby."
your tongue darts out, wetting your lips, and ghost follows the drag of your tongue hungrily. you are not the screaming, soft, doe-eyed little thing he thought he might like to have.
you are silent, deadly, a wolf in sheep's clothing, and he does not just want to have you. he needs you. he needs you to live under his skin. he needs to taste you, to have you flood his mouth, to chew and eat and swallow and breathe.
he would say you are his match made in heaven, but he knows this does not exist, because if it did, he wouldn't be real. and neither would you.
"ooof," you scrunch your nose. "i hate cry babies."
you almost make him laugh.
he steps closer, sliding the knife lower until it rests at the curve of your waist.
"you don't need that, you know," you whisper, and he leans in, the front of his mask brushing against your lips.
"no?"
"no," you echo, smiling wider. "if you wanna feel up my skirt, all you gotta do is ask. it'd be nice to have your name first though."
"ghost."
you giggle, "your real name, baby."
"'s ghost."
"that what you want me to say when i'm in your bed tonight?"
"who said you'll be in m'bed?"
you reach up with one hand, dragging the tip of your finger down the strong line of his jaw. he towers over you, shadows you, and the knife is sharp against your skin, but all you want is to be a little closer.
you close your eyes when you feel his hand. the tips of his gloved fingers graze the skin of your upper thighs, and you suck in a soft breath when he drags that hand up under your skirt. you put both hands on his chest as you tremble slightly, holding onto him for support as his big hand fondles one side of your ass. his fingers creep lower, and he groans audibly.
"no knickers, swee'eart?" he mutters, and you just giggle breathlessly. "how long 'av y'been waitin' for me, huh?"
you open your eyes, tilting your head back and holding back a whine when you feel his thick fingers prodding at your folds, soaking up the slick there and teasing your cunt. it's sick--you must be sick, you must be awful, you must be so dead inside, you have to be, but it's so hard to care.
you gasp when he grips your throat, forcing your eyes on his, and you hold him there.
"answer me. how long 'av y'been waitin' for me?"
you soften, smile, bare your teeth for him.
"my whole life, baby."
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leviathanleva · 2 days
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Daisy
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Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader
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Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.
But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...
[Minor violence, Non-consensual choking]
🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼
Chapter 2
You wanted to say something desperately, but your mouth came dry and empty and you promptly closed it to avoid any stray specs of sand. Your neck ached from having to keep it so profoundly craned just to hold eye contact and avoid the gun from pressing against your Adam’s apple.
His boots sunk in the dune as he juggled his weight tantalizingly, prowling in front of you and looking like he was ready to pounce. He was staring at you like you weren’t even human and it made sense because he didn’t look like one. The sun scratched at your exposed shoulders and upper back, hair pooled over your face and breasts and no longer acting as a shield for your delicate skin. It hurt, it burned, your flesh felt like it was cooking on a barbeque rack, but there was nothing you could do except take it like a champ and worry about it later.
This was not how you imagined the world above to be… You never thought you’d be attacked by giant roaches or chased by deranged criminals smelling of shameless cannibalism or held at gunpoint by the man…thing, that saved your life. You never imagined it was this bad up here, so desolate and askew, everything was old, rusted, worn, and crumbling and you had half the mind to just go back and let the raiders kill you and make their threats a reality of making you into human jerky.
The gun tapping incessantly against your cheek failed to pull you out of the depths of your spinning thoughts. But when it was forcibly pressed against the center of your forehead, nearly knocking you back on your arse, you stiffened with a gasp.
Your hero was becoming impatient.
“Never seen a ghoul before, darlin’?” he asks with somewhat of a frown, his agitation brewing with your silent treatment and mindblown stare. He pranced around you, circling your kneeling, hunched-over form as you tried following his movements with doubtful eyes and a racing heart. “You been livin’ under a fucking rock?”
His gun was cocked and ready to fire, a steady forefinger resting over the trigger in case you decided to be stupid and try to run or lunge at him. He scoffed at the idea but kept his guard up just in case. After so many years of roaming, he’d seen just about everything, he wasn’t risking it no matter how defenseless you appeared at first glance.
“N-No…No, sir. Never seen a…ghoul. Before.” you forced the words out, fearing his wrath, and clung to your sides as your hands kneaded through the soft material of your dress. Your head lowered obediently, lashes shielding your darting irises as they read his every movement. “A rock? No, I – “
It took him a single spin to notice the Pip-boy slapped over your wrist and his eyes hardened. He stopped by your side, towering over you, and ripped your arm away, clutching it in his hand with a roughness you’d never experienced before. You winced as he leaned over to inspect the device and grimaced with a twitching upper lip.
“ – A vault dweller…” he spat and his gloved fingers dug into your flesh. He ignored your whiney noise of protest, jostling you into silence before shooting a flesh-searing glare right into your soul. “You a vaulty?”
“What? I – No! Yes. Wait – ” you stammered when he dug a knee into the sand and let your arm go before gathering a handful of hair on the back of your head and forcing your neck back to make you look at him. He was…menacing, practically bolting you to the ground with a single glare. “Wait! Please, wait. Please! I – ” your hands shot up to grip his wrist, trembling and useless as you pleaded. He dug the gun under your chin, preventing you from swallowing. “Please, I did. I lived in a vault, but I don’t know anything! Please, please, I promise. Don’t – “ your eyes frantically shot down at where the barrel sunk into your skin, teeth chattering as your lashes heavied with tears.
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?!” he snarled, leaning so close that if he had a nose it would have bumped into yours. His breath stank of spirit and you tried to recoil but were promptly jerked back into place.
It didn’t click in your brain what had upset him so. The vaults were created to preserve humanity and its antics from before the bombs, it was for the betterment of the future. It was so that his children could eventually live better lives after you finally left the sanctuary of the underground and restored order to the surface, or so you’ve read. It made no sense for him to hate you based on a stupid Pip-boy that wasn’t even yours, you’d done nothing to him, you didn’t even know him! How could he be so nonchalantly cruel? How could he touch you without your consent? What gave him the right!?
The firearm digging into your flesh told you what.
“I was sick!” you wail, fighting back your tears and a pitiful stutter from poisoning your reply. His grip on your hair tightened and you twitched in pain, shaking like a leaf beneath him and clutching at his wrist in a silent plea to let you go. “I was isolated. I didn’t know anyone but my mom and dad, I didn’t do anything. I don’t know!” you debated for your life, prolonging his spine-chilling intentions. Bargaining with the devil was a difficult task when your body and mind worked against you, all blabbering words and choppy thoughts and jittery limbs. “The vault was taken over and I ran and I don’t know anything about the people and I just – Please…My parents are dead…Please, mister, please don’t shoot…” you beg through sobs and a sniffling nose, tugging at his iron grip to no avail.
With a grunt and a flexing jaw, he threw you back, treating you with disregard equal to tossing out a piece of garbage, releasing you to curl up protectively over yourself, and standing. His gun clicked and he secured it back in the holster on his hip.
You instinctively rub at the tender area on the back of your head with a dissatisfied plaint, locking your thighs to obscure your exposed privates. Propped up on one hand and with a shaken look, you watched him spit and turn, his expression solid and distasteful and beating down on you for no reason that you could comprehend. Your breaths begin to event out and you swallow with a shuddering hum.
He turned away, drawing distance between you with stiff steps, fighting his resolve as his hand itched to draw his weapon and just shoot you on the spot.
But he couldn’t…
You weren’t worth the bullet, he repeated that bitter sentence under his breath to convince himself that he hesitated and withdrew simply because you were a waste of ammunition. It wasn’t your doe-eyed stare and too-soft-for-this-world skin that felt like silk when your tiny fingers had lingered under the edge of his sleeve. It wasn’t your delicate, shiny hair that looked like it would tear under his hold or the thick, heavy lashes that framed your eyes and held your tears that shone like diamonds in the sunlight. It definitely wasn’t that tiny dress that hugged your little frame and would make any goon go rabid from just a glance. You were no wastelander, didn’t look like any vault dweller who had crossed his path, you were too soft even for the life before the bombs. He didn’t know what you were, but you weren’t worth the cogitation.
You weren’t worth the bullet. You weren’t worth anything. You were nothing.
You were –
“ – Wait!” you hurry to rise and stumble after him. Despite his demeanor, he was the only thing that hadn’t tried to kill you on sight, and without anything or anyone else around, you had mentally latched onto him as your hero. “Mister, wait! You can’t just – “
He raised his weapon and pointed it at you faster than you could blink. Your hands shot up to shield your face and you shrunk in submission, rapidly blinking and with a hesitant look.
“Come closer.” he barks and cocks his gun, arm extended and eerily steady. “See what happens.”
“I – You can’t just leave me here!“ you protest, mustering what confidence you could, scraping at the bottom of a barrel that was emptied the moment you had set foot outside the vault. You straighten when no bullets come and your palms curl into fists, stomping a foot for emphasis. “That’s not right. You can’t just ditch me.”
“Watch me, princess.” he chuckled, sneered, and bared his yellowish teeth at you like a dog. He gestured with the gun in dismissal and rested his free hand on his hip after flinging his coat back. “Now get!”
“I don’t know where to get.” you whine and curl your fingers in air quotes in a brash display, pushing your luck and mocking his conceit because you were so desperate you took your chances. “I don’t even know where I am!”
He just snorts at you, unbothered and uncaring, and proceeds on his way with a flick of his wrist, refusing to entertain your tantrum any longer.
You didn’t understand how someone could turn down a person in need, it made no sense, the lack of compassion was incomprehensible and so…inhuman. How could a man be this purposefully ignorant of another’s struggle and choose not to do anything? You could never turn down a cry for help, not that you’d ever been faced with such a situation before, but you knew you wouldn’t. So what had this ghoul lived through to be so detached and devoid of sympathy? How much had he been hurt to abandon emotion entirely for the sake of a still mind and dreamless sleep?
What kind of world forced a man to abandon his humanity…
Fueled by frustration, you take a few steps after him, so hellbent on keeping the spotless image of your hero you had forced upon his shoulders that your rationality couldn’t break through your naivety. He couldn’t be this cruel after saving your life and not even bringing up the possibility of a reward. He had to have a soft spot somewhere, beneath the rags and the ruggedness and the hissy threats and brutish actions. He was still a person just like you even if the harshness of the surface had disfigured both his body and soul, you believed in him, you had to for your own preservation.
He heard you move, heard the rustling of fabric and the shuffling of sand, and snapped with a cornered animal.
“Oh I’ve had about enough of you!” he snarled and whirled around, covering the distance between you with three long, menacing strides. Your startled scream was cut short when he squeezed your neck and forced you down on your back like your resistance against him didn’t even exist. He caged you beneath his tights, keeping you in place as you clawed at his stone-firm grip and gasped apologies and pleas through labored breaths. The gun knocked against the side of your forehead to stifle you into stilling. It clicked threateningly as he applied pressure to the trigger, sunken eyes staring down at you without any hesitation. “First rule of the wasteland, sweetheart.” he grumbled through gritted teeth and a stiff jaw, tightening his chokehold until your eyes rolled back and you burst into a fit of coughs. “Don’t trust nobody.”
Your mind raced fervently, battling against the lack of oxygen and trying to search for anything in your memory that could guarantee you even a chance at surviving his unrelenting assault. A sliver of hope as unconsciousness splotched the edges of your vision with viscous darkness. Your ears screeched as blood thrashed around in your head and face, bulging and boiling, trapped and unable to reach the rest of your writhing body. Your feet kicked and thrashed without results and no matter how deep your nails sank in his leathery skin he didn’t so much as flinch. Spit dribbled from the corner of your gaping mouth, the threat of the gun completely discarded due to suffocation and your lungs screamed and burned with the scarce air.
And he just watched you struggle with a solemn visage and jagged features.
“Say something! ANYTHING! THINK OF SOMETHING!!!”
“Water!” you croak and it was nearly unintelligible, but he understood.
“What?” he hisses and his grip on your throat slacks enough for you to finally suck in a full breath.
You gulp greedily at the dry, scorching air, groaning in octaves so low you couldn’t recognize your own voice. Supposedly having your neck nearly crushed like a rotten pencil did that to one’s vocal cords. You relax beneath him and hold onto his forearm for support as if he hadn’t been the cause of your near-death experience. You cling to him like a lost child and not his victim and it utterly baffles him. He tried to find a glimmer of hatred or disgust, anything that would deter him enough to just shoot you and get this overextended fiasco to an end, anything that would let him pull the fucking trigger. There’s nothing though, just desperation and confusion and fright and you had placed him as the only barrier between yourself and the rest of the world and even when he watched the life drain from you as you fought for breath you still didn’t even glare at him. You were just too pure, undefiled by the cruelty of the world you’d set off to venture and a tiny, once-dead part of him boiled at the incessant thought of you falling into the hands of a less kind man. What if someone else had found you first…
“There’s a storage safehouse. It was made for emergencies.” you gasp and clear your throat, pushing past the need to gag and looking up at him because you were taught that holding eye contact was a good thing when speaking about something of grave importance. He softened above you and leaned away and you took that as your cue to continue. “Those people, the ugh…the bad guys can’t get to it. It’s hidden and you need a Pip-boy to unlock it.” you gulp audibly and wince at the soreness before licking at your chapped lips and wiping the drool off your cheek. “It’s full of food and water…and stimpaks and bandages and…whatever you wish. You can take all of it just – ” a wave of trembles racked through you and you tried to suppress a whimper, but couldn’t. “ – Please, just help me get to it…I just want to go home, sir…”
“Thought you said you didn’t know anything, princess? You tryna lie to me now?” his chin dipped as he cocked his head to the side. His voice was flat, and his cold demeanor breaching through your dress and nipping at your insides until you were littered with goosebumps despite being pinned down in a desert in the middle of the day.
“I don’t…I’ve never been there – I was an archive keeper. I know everything in theory I just never knew the people except my parents…But I can find my way to it just by memory, I know where it is I just need to walk around a bit and – ”
“ – Stop yappin’.” he scolded, cutting your rant short before tucking away his gun.
He took a moment to mull over your words, still keeping you locked beneath him while you laid there like a corpse and prayed wordlessly as anticipation punched at your churning stomach. He rubbed at his chin, tongue twisting in his mouth as if he were tasting your proposition. His eyes dipped down to your scrawny form, done skimming over the barren desert sea and deciding this didn’t need much more contemplation. You got to go home and get off his back, he got supplies for a good few weeks, and a handful of raiders would end up dead. Simple. Easy. He could do that.
“Done deal.”
You nearly cried out in joy at his words.
Then he finally stood and gripped your upper arm before roughly pulling you to your feet and you nearly faceplanted in his chest at the force. He laughs as you flounder and fight not to trip, the baritone of his voice sending you spiraling into a pit of embarrassment and abashment because he was the first person you had ever properly met and you were making a fool of yourself. There was a feint, innocent need prickling at your heart, you wished you could’ve impressed him, and made a good first impression, but that had been thrown out the window in its entirety the moment he’d pointed a gun at you.
Now you were torn between needing him close because he was your only source of comfort and wanting to slap him because he was such a rude and foul man. Who even pointed a weapon at an unarmed woman?
He did…the bastard.
“Shoulda just started with the storage, missy.” he teases as if he’d not nearly killed you a few minutes ago, all lighthearted and smirking. He holds your arm until you’re stable enough to stand on your own and you’re grateful even if a bit abrasive. “Coulda saved us a whole lot of tusslin’.”
“I would have, sir, but you – “
“ – Sssst!” he susses you like one would a mischievous cat and your lips are sealed in an instant. Then he nudged his head forward and readjusted the collar of his coat after releasing you. “Walk.”
Deciding you’ve run your luck dry for the day, you let go of a snarky remark hanging on the tip of your tongue and do as instructed, trudging through the dunes as the familiar sting returns to the bare soles of your feet. Now, however, you had a nasty gash on your ankle to boot and it didn’t help that it was slowly getting covered by specs of sand that rubbed excruciatingly against your exposed flesh.
God damn those roaches, they were a menace when they were tiny! Now? You mouthed at the recollection.
You bite your tongue to keep from whining when the hurt becomes too unbearable, the rest of the time you were heaving with an open mouth as the idea of licking at your sweat for some sort of thirst relief grew. You’d not known thirst until today, it was worse than any needle or medical practice your father had used on you, you couldn’t even swallow properly, the motion happened automatically and you cringed at the stickiness of your dried-up throat.
It was too hot and you were woefully unprepared to deal with it or any of the other discomforts tugging your nerves thin. It bothered you how unphased he seemed by the harsh weather, one glance at him told you he hadn’t even broken a sweat. He was covered from head to toe in heavy clothes and strode with confidence and ease as if he were taking a walk through a park. You shrug without realizing it, too sunken into your head. Maybe he doesn’t have sweat glands anymore.
The sun was finally moving, sinking to the west and casting dramatic shadows over the desert. As his shadow grew, you found sanctuary in it from the still-sizzling rays and sighed in relief. It was a tiny drop of comfort, but it was enough to ease some of your strain. The muscles in your thighs were numb from overexertion for the first time in your life and you dreaded the cramps you’d have to deal with later on. The skin on your feet was smooth as butter from the intense exfoliation of walking through sand for so long, that was an interesting little fact you’d never heard of before. Dead skin cells could be removed by rubbing coarse surfaces over the body. Dope.
Locking yourself in the sanctity of your head and isolating your surroundings, you were numb and blind to how your legs shook. It wasn’t until you collapsed and tasted brittle little specs on your tongue that you realized you were lying down.
The ghoul paused and turned to look at you over his shoulder with profane boredom.
“Didn’t tell you to stop, princess.”
“Mm…My legs don’t work.” you state before even realizing the cruciality of that bit of information. Your eyes pop open and the exhausted expression vanishes in an instant, you prop up on your elbows and stare back at the limp limbs. Panic ensues, pumping through you like a drug as a dry sob punctures your chest. “My legs don’t…My legs!”
“What in the hell!”
He’s on you in an instant, bent over and pushing at your shoulder until you roll on your back, the spaces where his eyebrows should be are locked together and he shushes your cries with a curt noise, but you’re too stressed to acknowledge it. There are no more tears left, your nose can’t even fill with snot from dehydration, and you end up a mess of ragged sobs and loud wails as you paw at your legs to wake them up. You double over and clutch at your upset stomach with a shaky hand as your teeth grit in dread.
If he hadn’t left you behind yet, he would now…
And you couldn’t even debate him on it this time, you wouldn’t even be able to stalk him if he tried.
“I can’t move them…” you hiccup. You manage to wiggle your toes but lifting your foot or bending a knee just doesn’t register, instead, you get a few twitches from the spent muscles and nothing else. The worst scenario plagues your sanity and you look to the ghoul for guidance because there is no one else. “What if – ”
“ – Shut the hell up!” he scolds and shoots you a brief glare before averting his eyes down as he cups a large gloved palm in the junction of your knee before lifting your thigh in uncharacteristically gentle examination. His thumb dips in your supple flesh, rubbing in circles, searching for something to hint him in on what the issue was, the concentration evident on his distinct features. Your cries die down to whimpers as he juts a finger against your lips. “You – “ he sighs and after a handsy inspection of your other leg, covers his eyes with his hand and presses down on his eyelids as the urge to hold you in another chokehold resurfaces. “ – You’re just fucking tired, you smooth-skinned little – ” he huffs and halts the slew of curses less you start crying even harder.
You don’t have time to react when he grips your sides and lifts you in the air before tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of tatoes. You wretch when his shoulder digs into your stomach and cough it off with arms flailing. Shaky hands clutch at the back of his coat as he secures one arm around your bare thighs and begins walking as if he’s not carrying another full-grown adult.
“Throw up on me and I will fucking blow your head off.”
He understood your sheltered way of thinking, but this was fucking unheard of. A newborn probably had more stamina than you, more strength too if your display of power earlier while he had you pinned down was the brink of your ability. You were so fragile it was annoying, you wouldn’t last a day out here, would’ve ended up as radroach food if he hadn’t stepped in. You were scrawnier than most people he’d seen and he’d seen plenty, and those who were smaller were on the brink of death from starvation. Who the hell went out in the wasteland unarmed?!
You did…fucking idiot.
“Thank you.” you mumble and audibly exhale, despite his threat, closing your eyes at his scarce kindness and smiling through bitten-down lips to cease your sobbing. You tried ignoring the fact that your butt was a few inches away from his face or that his hat grazed against your side with every step he took. Such bashful thoughts had no right to take up space in your head, but then again, he was your first friend and just having him around shot bolts of excitement through you.
Sure, he was a bit…rough around the edges. But he had saved you and he was carrying you back home. And he was a surface dweller who’d probably never known the comforts of the vaults so you couldn’t hold him accountable for being aggressive. Well, you could, and technically should, but you knew better than to bite the hand that feeds you.
“Don’t thank me, princess.” he snorts and pats your thigh in feign caringness. “You owe me supplies. I ain’t gonna let you cheat me outta that.”
“There’s a few of them, though…the criminals, I mean.” you mused over what to call them while chewing on your bottom lip, hanging off the shoulder of a ghoul in a thin sundress, carried through a desert, like it was just a normal day.
They had looked more like bandits, but what else were you supposed to label them as? The judgment system was a thing of the past, so what were these people considered now? Outlaws? You continue with a pang of concern, fearing for the safety of your rugged savior, too attached to the idea of companionship and just sick of seeing violence. You’d had enough for one day.
“Are you sure you can handle them? They didn’t seem very friendly.”
“First off, they’re called raiders. Everyone ‘round here’s a criminal now.” he laughed, tipping his head back and you feel the raspy chortle swell your chest.
You liked him happy, he was almost charming this way. Or maybe it was a “Rescue Romance” you were experiencing and the ghoul was just a crusty weird man who had saved you without considering what a pest you might turn out to be. You’d try to find that one psychology book and re-read it once you got back home just to make sure.
“Stop swooning!”
“Second, it’s my job. I’m a bounty hunter, sweetheart. I kill people for a livin’.” he tilted his hollow nose to the side, addressing you properly as he spoke, and if you’d seen the gesture you would have appreciated it.
“Oh,…a bounty hunter? Like in the Old West then! I’ve read so much about that!” you squeak and perk up, wiggling in excitement as your face beams. Your calf twitched as some feeling returned to your limp legs and it only added to your brightened mood. Now you could actually feel the cool texture of his coat gliding against your skin.
You didn’t see his features grim or how his hat tipped to obscure sunken eyes and hide the brisk vulnerability swirling in them or the flash of regret, the pain, the little piece of humanity he didn’t even know he still had. His grip on your thigh tightened and you strayed to one side and glanced at the back of his head in question, expecting him to be more boastful about his job. Instead, he was mournfully silent and you feared you’d said something wrong, reopened an old would accidentally.
“Just like the Old West, yeah.” he nodded with a low grunt and you frowned. The words slip past his teeth with such dreadful familiarity that you can’t help the curiosity that would no doubt be your downfall one day. You press a tender palm between his shoulder blades, more for your sake rather than his, and pray he didn’t change his mind to drop you and leave.
You doubted books were a common luxury in this crumbling world, you also doubted the ghoul was a man of knowledge, he didn’t look like the type to read. Maybe there were still movie cassettes and TVs in good enough shape to be used and that’s how he learned of the old cowboy history. As slim as those possibilities were, they made more sense than him being alive before the apocalypse and still walking the earth in the present time. His distorted appearance didn’t give you any indicators of his age, so trying to guess was out of the question, but even then the war was over two hundred years ago. He couldn’t possibly…
Maybe you were simply overthinking, but the way he’d said it sounded like he’d lived through it and the longer you pondered over that the sharper your awareness became.
“How long do ghouls live, mister?” you ask, uncertain of what he’d answer, but holding onto your speculations until he did.
“That the vault?” he shoots back, coming to a halt and straightening and completely sweeping away your inquiry.
It was a good enough answer and despite your gnawing curiosity, you decided not to press the matter further because you didn’t know how far his courtesy extended before he had his gun pressed to your temple again.
You hadn’t even noticed how much ground he’d covered with you slumped over him, everything around you looked the same and with fatigue fogging your lapse of time it wasn’t surprising. He was built for endurance or…mutated for it. What exactly was a ghoul, anyway?
You coil around him like a snake and he holds you secure as you clutch at his shoulder and turn until you can see what he sees.
The distinct metal of the vault door glinted in the dying sunlight, mostly concealed by debris and toppled over stone blocks.
Everything around you was bathed in warm hues of maroon and deep orange and for just a moment the world felt so peaceful. The sun had almost completely set, dipping behind golden dunes, the breeze hollered a deft, haunted tune and there was no noise besides you and the ghoul’s breaths. It was all so beautiful you wanted to cry, your eyes dampened as you soaked in the sight with a slack jaw. The magic of a sunset was so foreign it hadn’t even registered until you’d been made to look around instead of troubling yourself with the bounty hunter’s backstory.
How could something be so impossibly mesmerizing?
“Yeah…” you manage to answer, at a loss for words, yet still conscious of the question and your friend’s proven lack of patience. “Yeah, that’s it.”
He plops you down unceremonially without even asking you if your legs were back in order before grabbing your arm and dragging you along. You waddle after him like a duckling and clutch at his coat when your ankles intertwine and trip you in your stride. A startled noise escapes you, but you successfully manage to keep up with his hasty footing until he’s pulled you directly in front of the vault door, grumbling at your clumsy nature and lack of coordination. A few low curses are hung over your head but you don’t pay them any mind.
“Open it.” he demands and pushes you forward, then unclasps his gun and then another you hadn’t even noticed he had.
Whatever nonchalant demeanor you’d made him settle into was discarded for one so icy and sharp that you failed to understand how he just switched within a blink.
You straighten your dress with a huff, patting out the newly acquired wrinkles and trying to ignore the variety of stains. The Pip-boy is raised up as you maneuver around the plethora of menus.
The ghoul steps closer, stopping once he’s right behind you with a raised weapon and steady eyes glued to the entrance. The lid hisses and you recoil at the scratchy sound until you’re pressing back into him, he wraps an arm around you on instinct, then scowls and rips away as if burnt by a hot rod.
“Watch your step.” he hisses and points the guns at the entrance, treading cautiously, on high alert for any noise that echoes beyond the darkness. Once he’s glued to the vault door he beckons you with his hand and you quickly follow, feet pattering against the metallic floor until you’re closely pressed to his side and peeking from behind him.
It wasn’t scary when he was with you. You strangely didn’t fear the raiders lurking inside anymore, only worrying over the potential harm they might cause him. But he’d proven more than capable, you made yourself believe he’ll be just fine and so would you.
When nothing comes and he’s confident the threat lies further inside, he steps past the entrance.
“Stay behind me.” he makes a face at his statement, then glances back at you. “And don’t get in my way.”
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barcaatthemoon · 3 days
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lullaby || lucy bronze x reader ||
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you comfort lucy when she comes to your room after rachel's last game.
you weren't the least bit surprised to find lucy outside of your room after the game. more than a few of the girls had all grouped together for comfort after rachel's last game. lucy had held strong for the camp, having been warned earlier on by rachel herself. you had also been warned, but yours was more to make it easier to look out for lucy.
"can i sleep over tonight?" lucy asked you. keira had already gone to georgia and leah's rooms for the night. you were sure that a lot more girls were piled into the captain's room than just the three best friends, but what mattered was that lucy had come to you.
"of course you can," you told her. it wasn't late enough to sleep just yet, but lucy went straight to the bed. she laid down and curled up a little, something that you only saw her do whenever she was really upset. lucy ignored you as you moved around the room, grabbing a couple of water bottles for the two of you before you got into bed with her. "do you want to talk about it?"
"i don't want to talk about anything," lucy grumbled. you frowned a little to yourself, but let it go. lucy rested her head on your chest and grabbed onto your hand, squeezing it slightly. "do something, it's too quiet in here."
you're momentarily at a loss about what to do until you remember the night that keira and lucy had truly called it quits. it wasn't necessarily a good night for anybody, but it was definitely the start of your relationship.
"she don't want me no more." there was nothing scarier to you than a teary-eyed lucy bronze. you knew that lucy had planned on going over to keira's to talk after their last little argument. they had broken up twice already, but agreed to work things out. this time, hadn't been successful for lucy.
"luce, i'm sorry," you apologized to her. it wasn't your fault, and the apology only really made her kind of angry, but you didn't know what to do. lucy wasn't one to open up emotionally, especially not to you.
for the most part, lucy had no idea why she had come to your apartment. you weren't her friend, you were keira's. that was something you had made clear every single time that lucy had messed up in the past. however, there was still the part of lucy's brain that knew things weren't like that anymore.
somewhere along the line, something that shifted between the two of you. nothing had been acted on, but lucy had caught her eyes lingering on you for a little longer than normal. you had thoughts in a similar vein about lucy, and if it wasn't for keira being one of your best friends, you would have acted on your feelings.
"i just need somewhere to be for a while. can't be getting myself in trouble," lucy said. her accent was thicker through the tears. you nodded as you pulled her into your apartment. almost immediately, your cat raced across the living room to get as far away from lucy as he could. "little rat faced bastard."
"luce, be nice!" you hissed as you swatted at her shoulder.
"i'm over here crying and getting hissed at, so you hit me!" lucy shouted. you placed your hands on her arms, rubbing gently to try and soothe her. lucy moved like she was about to shove you away from her, only to surprise you by melting into your arms completely. she broke apart into a fit of sobs as your arms moved to hold her.
"hey, hey, it's okay," you whispered softly. lucy grabbed onto the back of your shirt and tugged you closer to her. you hummed nervously, unable to move away. slowly, you managed to get lucy to let you guide the two of you towards one of the chairs in your living room.
you picked the big, comfy one. everybody teased you for it being an eyesore, but you loved it. the pattern was hideous, but you had never sat in a more comfortable recliner in your entire life. as your body hit the back of the seat with lucy's on your lap, you were grateful for the slightly oversized chair.
lucy cried in your arms as you continued to hum. slowly, the hums grew into broken pieces of songs that you could remember. lucy's sniffles and sobs slowly came to a stop. you figured that she'd want you to be quiet now that she was done cry, but she pipped up at the first bit of prolonged silence.
"no, don't stop. i like the sound of your voice," lucy told you. she sounded a little whiny, but you weren't going to tease her for it. you started in on another little song, this time stopping when you saw lucy staring at you. it wasn't in annoyance or amusement like what you had grown accustomed to. this stare was different, and it made your chest feel warm and fuzzy.
"luce?"
"don't let me ruin this, please," lucy muttered. you had originally thought it was intended for you to hear, but once lucy pressed her lips to yours, you realized that it was a prayer of sorts.
you glanced down at lucy as she laid on your chest. her breathing had evened out finally, soft snores echoing each breath. you quietly snapped a picture for your phone, something that you'd want whenever the two of you went back to barcelona and she decided to pretend that this had never happened.
there were a few texts on your phone when you checked it. the first you saw was one from keira, warning you not to let lucy ruin your shirt with drool. you chuckled quietly to yourself, almost certain that it was only a matter of time before the puddle formed. the next couple were from rachel and millie, both women asking how lucy was doing. she had worried a lot of your teammates during rachel's celebratory dinner, even though she had been actively trying not to.
"stop moving around so much," lucy grumbled as she tugged your body closer to hers. "'m trying to sleep."
"it was just rach, she was wishing me a good night's rest," you said. lucy grumbled something, but it was muffled by her face being buried against your body. "i'm sorry, what was that?"
"tell her to fuck off. this is my time with you," lucy grumbled. you smiled as you placed your hand on her head to tip it back. she looked up at you with half-closed eyes and a pout, which you found adorable. "what the hell do you want?"
"a kiss, but if you're going to be an ass, i'll just go get one from someone else," you answered. lucy obviously did not like that answer as she shot up and pinned you beneath her on the mattress.
"who told you that you could kiss other girls?" lucy asked. she was getting possessive, like she tended to on your nights out with the team, but lucy never really did much other than fuck you.
"it's not like i've got a girlfriend, now is it?" you countered. lucy furrowed her brows, seemingly ready to give in to your one demand. you had been dropping all sorts of hints, doing everything short of actually giving her an ultimatum.
"sing me another song, and i'll take you out for breakfast tomorrow before we leave. a nice little date for just the two of us, but (y/n), are you sure about this? am i really who you want?" lucy asked you. she knew that you had gotten very close to hooking up with a couple of other girls on both the lionesses and at barcelona.
"lucy, you would not be in my bed right now if i wasn't sure. do you think i just sing every pretty little bird that crosses my path to sleep? what kind of woman do you take me for?" you pretended to be offended, up until lucy cradled your face and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
"my deepest apologies, and for the record, i think you're like some sort of disney princess. the kind that would give ingrid a run for her money," lucy complimented. "so, do you want to be my girlfriend? i think you've kind of had the position for a while, but might as well make it offical, yeah?"
"might as well, yeah," you echoed. lucy smiled, this time pulling you into her arms. you let the music resume on your phone, singing along to the songs until you felt lucy's body relax beneath yours.
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wholoveseggs · 3 days
Note
Maybe an elijah x Reader where the Reader is a bit shy about sex and really wants to try out face riding, but is insecure about her weight like that she's scared she'll hurt him or something like that. So somehow elijah finds out (for example thru a dream which he enters) and does it, but she'll try to pull away at the beginning still scared of hurting him and he'll pull her down.
If possible with lots of praise, overstimulation, elijah being dominant, hand kink, sir kink, elijah being a sweetheart, and aftercare?
Soft
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
You've been dating Elijah for a while, but your insecurities keep you from taking things further. But one night, Elijah finally gets the chance to show you how much he loves your curves.
♡♡ Thanks for the request @magicaleaglecloud, I've written a similar fic on this subject called Reminder, but I love this idea so much I'm happy to write more. ♡♡
♡♡ This once again goes out to all my thick thighed brothers and sisters! ♡♡
3.4k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, oral sex, sex dreams, insecure reader, body issues, soft dom!elijah, slight sir!kink, face sitting, fingering, little bit of spanking, tinsy bit of overstim, a fun history fact about beauty standards, praise, kisses & lots of sweetness ♡♡♡
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You were beyond nervous, and it showed. You and your boyfriend Elijah Mikaelson had been dating for the last year, and while you loved each other and you wanted to sleep with him, you had been putting it off.
It wasn't anything to do with him, of course. It had everything to do with your insecurities. You didn't fit the current beauty standard. You weren't as skinny as some of the girls Elijah had been with before you. Your hips and thighs touched, you had a stomach, and your breasts were bigger than you liked.
And while you had seen Elijah's eyes roam your body whenever you were with him. You couldn't help but wonder if he secretly felt the same.
You knew you couldn't hold off forever. The thought of being so naked and exposed was beyond scary. But you wanted to be with him in every sense of the word. And you knew you needed to get over yourself.
The plan was to stay the night at his place, a big step for the two of you. You would be spending the night with him. Sleeping in the same bed. And maybe, hopefully, doing other things.
You spent far too much time getting ready, making sure your skin was as flawless as possible, and your hair was just right. You packed the sexiest sleepwear you owned, a deep blue satin nightgown that fell mid-thigh.
Elijah had made reservations at your favorite restaurant, and the entire meal had been magical. Although, you didn't want to eat a lot in front of him. There was always so much shame around your body, and you didn't want him to see it.
"So I'm thinking we can have some wine and relax. Maybe watch a movie or two," Elijah said as he parked the car in front of his house.
"Sounds great." You smiled and took a breath, trying to calm yourself down.
He took your hand, sensing your unease, you were so beautiful and lovely, and he couldn't understand why you were so hard on yourself. He never wanted you to feel that way.
The evening had been perfect. You watched movies, you talked, and you drank the wine, and you felt the tension slowly slipping from your body. He kissed you and it had quickly grown passionate, his lips moving down your neck and you moaned his name.
You weren't sure how it happened, but he was suddenly on top of you, and the feel of his large frame pressed into yours had been amazing. But you felt your anxiety start to bubble to the surface.
"Elijah, wait," you said softly, gently pushing against his chest.
"What's wrong?" He asked, immediately concerned.
"I'm sorry, it's nothing. I just...can I have a moment?" You said, feeling a mix of embarrassed and scared.
"Of course," he said, getting up and allowing you to move from the couch. "Let's go back to the bedroom. We don't have to do anything."
"I'm sorry." You said as he pulled you into his arms, kissing the top of your head.
"Darling, there is nothing to be sorry about." He said, leading you to his bedroom. "Why don't you get ready for bed? I'm going to take a shower," he said, sensing that you needed a moment alone.
You smiled, feeling like you could breathe. You loved him so much. You were so lucky to have him.
You changed into your nightgown and pulled out your lotion and went about the process of rubbing it into your legs and arms.
You caught a glimpse of yourself in his floor length mirror, and your insecurities came rushing back.
The material clung to you in all the wrong ways. It hugged your hips and stomach and breasts. You frowned, hating the sight. You quickly pulled the blankets down and crawled into bed. There was no way you could let him see you like this.
You tried not to cry, feeling such shame and humiliation, you decided to just sleep and pretend the evening didn't happen.
When Elijah returned, you had fully fallen asleep. He frowned slightly, wishing he could read your mind, wishing he could know what to say. You were so beautiful. How could you not see it?
He slipped into bed beside you and smiled when you instinctively curled into him. You looked so peaceful, and he didn't have the heart to wake you.
The blankets were pulled down a bit, the swell of your breasts clearly visible. And it was impossible not to look.
He loved your body. He loved your curves. He loved the way you felt in his arms. So soft and warm.
You made a quiet little noise and pressed closer to him, and he felt himself harden. It was impossible not to.
Your eyes were moving under your eyelids and your breathing was uneven. Your hands gripped at him, pulling him closer.
"Are you dreaming, my beautiful girl?" Elijah said, brushing the hair away from your face.
"Hmm, Elijah," you moaned quietly, your hips moving and pressing into him.
He smiled, curious about what was going on in your mind, wondering what you were dreaming about.
"Fuck," you said, moving your hips again.
He couldn't help it, he had to know.
His hand gently caressed the side of your face, and then he slowly pressed into your mind, feeling the sensations your dream was causing.
He saw you straddling his face, your hands gripping the headboard, and he could practically taste you on his tongue. You were completely unbidden, your beautiful body bouncing above him, and his large hands gripped your hips.
Elijah pulled out of your mind, groaning at the vision.
"Mm, please," you whimpered, and he was so tempted.
He looked down, your nipples were straining against the material of your gown. Your eyebrows arched, and you moved against him.
"Elijah." You sighed his name, and it was too much.
He couldn't possibly leave this fantasy of yours to the dream world. He had to give you what you needed.
He whispered your name, gently biting down on your earlobe, and you woke with a gasp.
"Elijah." Your voice was thick and sleepy, and it did things to him.
"Did you have a good dream?" He said, kissing along your neck and sucking lightly on your pulse point.
"Yes." You moaned, unable to deny it.
"Tell me," he said, pulling the blankets back, his hands roaming over your body.
"You...we..." You moaned, unsure of how to tell him.
He kissed down your neck, his hands moving down to grip your ass and pull you against him.
"You are so sweet and shy. It's adorable." He smiled, loving the way you blushed.
He started kissing his way down your body, and it was clear where he was headed. His hands dipped under your gown and pushed the material up and over your breasts.
"Elijah." You moaned, trying to cover yourself.
"No." He said, taking your wrists and placing them by your sides. "Don't hide from me. I want to see all of you."
You nodded, closing your eyes as he kissed along your breasts and took a nipple into his mouth. You moaned, arching up into him, loving the way he felt against you.
"So beautiful," he whispered, his lips ghosting over your skin.
He moved further down your body, and his hands gripped your thighs, gently pulling them apart. His lips ghosted over your stomach and you felt yourself tensing up.
"Elijah," you whispered, wanting to stop him, but the feel of his mouth so close to where you were aching for him was too much.
He gently bit down on the soft flesh of your thighs, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin.
"So fucking sexy." He said, looking up at you, his eyes full of lust.
"Wait," you said, sitting up and covering yourself, "I...you don't have to."
He pushed you back down, grabbing your wrists and holding them by your sides.
"Stop. Please, my love. Don't be ashamed." He said, kissing the swell of your stomach and moving further down.
"But..." you moaned, feeling his mouth between your legs, and your words died in your throat.
His mouth was gentle and slow, and he teased your clit, taking his time with you. His tongue moved in lazy circles, and he gently sucked, making you squirm and moan his name.
"Fuck, you taste so good." He groaned, loving the way you moved.
His fingers replaced his tongue and he pushed two inside of you. Moving up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips.
"Tell me what you like," he said, moving his fingers slowly, wanting to see what made you squirm.
"I like...when you do that." You gasped, his fingers moving deeper and hitting a spot that had you seeing stars.
He kissed along your neck, and he gently nipped at your pulse point, and he could feel your heartbeat quicken.
"You like my fingers baby?" He said, and his words were doing things to you.
"Mmhmm." You moaned, closing your eyes and giving in to the pleasure.
He started moving his fingers faster, curling them with each thrust. And then he pushed a third finger inside of you, stretching you open, and his thumb moved in slow circles over your clit.
"Fuck, oh god. Don't stop. Please." You begged, rocking your hips.
"You're so beautiful. I love the way you move." He said, his hand moving down to grip your thigh and hold you open.
"Please. Please. Fuck, I need..." You gasped, and his mouth covered yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, and he swallowed your moans.
"You need to cum, is that it, sweet girl?" He asked, and you couldn't believe he was saying these things to you.
"Please, sir." You moaned, and the word slipped out before you could stop yourself.
He grinned, loving the way it sounded, and he wanted to hear it again.
"Cum for me, now." He said, his fingers moving faster, and his thumb pressing against your clit.
The combination was enough to send you over the edge, and the orgasm was powerful, leaving you a shaking mess, moaning his name.
You opened your eyes, and you could see him staring at you. Your cheeks flushed, and you closed your eyes.
"Open your eyes." He commanded, and you obeyed, meeting his gaze.
"There's my beautiful girl. Now, come sit on my face."
"What?" You were sure you heard him wrong.
"Sit on my face. Now." He repeated.
"I...um..." You started, but he cut you off, grabbing your hips and moving you above him.
"That's a good girl." He said, helping you place your knees on either side of his face.
You were trembling, scared that you were too heavy. That the angle was wrong. You wanted to cover yourself. You were so vulnerable like this.
"I said sit." He said, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you down onto his mouth.
"Oh god." You gasped, unable to control the movement of your hips as his tongue started to lick at you.
It was too much. You couldn't take it. Your hands gripped his hair, and his hands grabbed your ass, pulling you down onto him.
You didn't know how he was breathing, but he didn't stop. He smacked your ass hard and growled, and the vibration was intense.
"Good girl, just like that." He said, and his praise went straight to your core.
You moved against him, not caring how desperate you looked, or how unsexy you must have appeared.
"That's it, fuck my face. Take what you need." He said, watching as your body responded to him.
You didn't even know it was possible to orgasm again that quickly, but his tongue was magic, and you were falling apart above him.
You grabbed the headboard, unable to hold back, and his fingers dug into your hips.
"Fuck, I can't. Elijah." You moaned, and the orgasm was more intense than the first one.
Your body was shaking, and he didn't stop. His tongue moved inside of you, and his nose brushed against your clit, the sensation overwhelming.
"Too much!" You said, trying to move away.
He held you in place, smacking your ass, and making you gasp.
"I decide when it's too much," he said, and there was something in his voice that left you shaking.
"Yes sir," you said, your voice a breathy whisper.
He groaned, his tongue moving faster. You moved your hips, matching his rhythm. And the next orgasm was so intense that your knees almost gave out.
"Such a good girl. Come here." He said, moving you down his torso so that your head was resting against his chest, and you were a sweaty, trembling mess.
His hands were all over your body, feeling every curve, every soft place. His lips moved against yours, and you could taste yourself on him.
You were still trying to catch your breath, and your entire body was shaking. You sat up, suddenly very self-conscious, your thick thighs straddling his waist.
"You are so sexy." He said, sitting up and kissing your neck.
"Really?" You asked, surprised and embarrassed, you never felt that way about yourself.
"You have no idea." He said, his hands moving down your back.
He gripped your ass, and his hips moved up, and you could feel his hard length pressing into you. The way his dark eyes watched you had you squirming. His hands moving to push the straps of your nightgown down.
"I want to see all of you. Can I take this off?" He asked, and he was so sweet and kind, and it only made you fall in love with him even more.
"Okay." You nodded, and his hands pulled the material up over your head, tossing it aside and exposing you completely.
"Perfect." He said, his eyes roaming your body.
"Elijah." You whined, covering your breasts, but he took your hands and held them at your sides.
"Let me look at you. I want to see how gorgeous you are. So beautiful." He said, his words were a complete contradiction to the way you felt.
"I'm not," you said, hating the way his eyes were taking you in.
Elijah shook his head, kissing you softly, his hands moved along your body, caressing every inch of you.
"You are." He whispered, and his words were almost convincing.
You shook your head, trying to pull away, but he wrapped his arms around you and held you close.
"Did you know that in the 16th century, women with curvy bodies were considered more beautiful than thin women? In fact, there is a painting from the 1700s by Antonio Canova called The Three Graces, and the figure on the right is considered to be the most beautiful because of her curves."
"Elijah." You couldn't help but laugh at him.
"My sweet girl, I am not trying to convince you of something that you are not ready to believe. But I will always find you the most beautiful woman in the world." He said, kissing your forehead.
You felt yourself blushing and tears were threatening to fall.
"Don't cry," he said, his hands moving along your back, trying to soothe you.
"I'm not, it's just..." you took a breath, unsure of what to say.
"Come here," he said, gently rolling you onto your back and positioning himself above you. "I can show you."
"What?" You asked, a little confused, but the look in his eyes had you curious.
"I can show you how much I love your body. If you'll let me."
"Yes," you nodded, knowing there was no way you could tell him no.
"Good girl." He said, and you could feel the blush on your cheeks.
He kissed you, his lips moving along your neck, and down to your breasts. He kissed each one and moved lower.
"I love the way your breasts fit in my hands." He said, gently kneading the soft flesh and sucking a nipple into his mouth.
"Elijah." You whimpered, and his hands moved to grab your ass.
"I love the way your curves fill out my hands." He said, moving lower and kissing the swell of your stomach, his fingers dipping into the indentation of your belly button, and making you giggle.
"Elijah, please."
"I love the way your thighs are soft and smooth." He said, gently biting the soft flesh and making you moan.
"I love the way your body responds to mine. The way you moan my name." He said, pushing his boxers off, and taking his hard length into his hand, and stroking himself.
"Elijah." You bit your lip, watching him.
"I love the way my cock fits perfectly between your legs." He said, spreading your legs and moving to rest his length against you.
"I love the way your hips are the perfect shape for my hands." He said, grabbing them and holding them tightly.
"I love the way my body feels against yours." He said, moving so that he was pressing into you.
He kissed you, and his hands moved to grab yours, holding them by the sides of your head.
"And I love the way my name sounds on your lips." He whispered, and his cock pushed into you.
He buried his face in your neck, his hands squeezing yours, and his body pressed into yours. You could feel every muscle tensing, and his heart racing.
"I love you, so much," he said, and the words had never been more real.
You wrapped your arms around him, and the moment was pure and uncomplicated. It was everything you needed, and more.
"Elijah," you sighed his name, and it was all the words you couldn't say.
He smiled, moving his hips slowly, his movements controlled and measured. You could feel every inch of him. You had never felt anything so amazing in your life.
You were overwhelmed, the feelings of pleasure mixing with the emotions coursing through your body. You could feel the tears slipping down your cheeks, and he wiped them away, kissing your face.
He pulled your legs back, pressing your knees to your chest, and his cock hit a spot that had you moaning.
"Good girl." He moaned, his thrusts growing faster, and the pleasure was almost too much.
Your body was shaking, and his movements were getting sloppy. His breathing was labored, and his words were a jumbled mess.
He reached down, his hand finding your clit, and he started rubbing slow circles, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure through you.
"Cum for me." He commanded, and the orgasm hit you hard, your nails digging into his back, and your legs wrapping around him.
"Eli-" You cried out, your voice high-pitched and needy.
His name was a breathy moan, and he could barely hold on. He needed you to cum, needed to feel you clenching around him.
"That's my girl." He moaned, his hips slamming into yours. You could feel him losing control, his cock pulsing inside of you.
He couldn't hold on, the pleasure was too much, and the way you were squeezing his cock had him tumbling over the edge.
His hand found yours, and he intertwined his fingers with yours, his hips slowing, and his eyes met yours.
You didn't know how long you stayed like that, just enjoying the closeness, and the way your bodies were entwined. You wanted to stay in the moment forever. You could feel his heart beating, and his breath on your skin. He eventually got up and grabbed a warm washcloth, cleaning you both, and then crawled back into bed, pulling you close, and wrapping you in his arms. 
"Are you okay?" He asked, and he was worried that maybe he had hurt you. That he had been too rough, or that he had pushed you too far. But you were smiling, and you were happy, and the way your body had responded to him was everything he had hoped for.
"Yes. I'm perfect." You said, and he could see the way the light was reflecting in your eyes, and the smile on your face. He kissed you, his hand cupping your face, and his tongue tangling with yours.
He made you feel so loved and cared for. He made you feel like you were the most important person in his life. Like nothing else mattered.
And for the first time, you felt worthy of his love. A love you always deserved.
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♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡
♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy ♡ @rosecentury ♡
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puckinghischier · 1 day
Text
Tattoos Together
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Nico Hischier x fem!reader
summary: based off of the song tattoos together by lauv
notes: this idea was way better in my head, but i still think it’s cute and turned out alright. i’m obsessed with this song and knew i just had to write a nico fic based off of it asap. also, i know the timeline is all over the place bc nico is captain in this, and holtzy and dawson are here, but it technically takes place after jack’s rookie season. the beauty of fiction is that literally nothing is real, so let’s just all pretend everything is normal and chronologically correct ����. hope you enjoy!! :)
[2.7k]
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Summer was your favorite season for a number of reasons. First of all, you loved the warm weather. Being able to sit outside and soak up the sunshine was something your body desperately craved during the bitter New Jersey winters. You also loved the overall happiness of the general population that seemed to radiate during the summer months. Your favorite reason, however, was the fact that your best friends were always available to do whatever you wanted them to, because hockey isn’t played in the summer.
You hated that the Devils didn’t make the playoffs this year. You were as devastated as they were during that last game of the season, but you can’t lie and say you weren’t also ecstatic. You knew, the moment they lost the game that eliminated them from any sort of play off position, you were going to get a summer full of sun and fun at the lake house.
You had decided to take the warm season off from any internships or courses, not wanting anything to come in-between you and nearly four, uninterrupted months with your boys at the lake. You had decided to transfer to a college in Jersey so you could spend more time with Jack, not so you could stay in a strange city while all of your friends go to your favorite place on earth.
This year was especially exciting, considering Jack had convinced a group of his teammates to join in on the summer antics. Your anticipation for the warmer weather to arrive was only heightened once you learned a certain hockey captain would also be in attendance at the lake house.
You had been drawn to Nico from the first moment you met him after Jack’s rookie debut. Jack was so eager to introduce the two of you. He had made quick friends with the Swiss player after his arrival in the garden state and he wanted nothing more than his oldest and newest friend to meet one another and hit it off. Nico gave short, but kind, responses when Jack called you over to speak to him outside of the locker room; you assumed he was just tired and wanted to get home, but once you had seen him leaning against the wall in a crowded bar a few hours later, you made it your mission to make a friend out of the quiet hockey player.
You found yourself enjoying his conversation a little too much, basically neglecting Jack on his big night. The two of you talked about anything and everything. Nico had been in the middle of a story about his siblings back home when you suddenly realized the danger you were in. You hadn’t even been around this man for more than a few hours, and you could feel yourself falling for him. His kind eyes, the deep dimples when he smiled, and the care and attention he showed every single person that came up to congratulate him on the win, while also never failing to listen to your stories and stay engaged in the conversation with you, was making you spiral in the best way.
You knew you couldn’t go there, though. He was a big shot hockey captain, and you were only here for school. With the team’s busy schedule, you didn’t know when you would see him again. As soon as the light feeling in your chest had appeared, you forced it to make its exit. You couldn’t fall for him. You wouldn’t let yourself fall for him.
Over the next few months, however, you found yourself in Nico’s presence more often than not. Any team event that Jack dragged you to, you always found your way to where Nico was, striking up innocent, friendly conversation. If you were attending a home game at the Prudential Center, you were always cheering for Nico anytime he made a particularly important or skillful play. When he would come over to yours and Jack’s shared apartment, you always had some excuse for needing to be in the kitchen when they were, or passing through the living room and then planting yourself on the couch between the two ‘out of boredom’.
Nico wasn’t making it easy for you, either. Anytime the captain would score on the ice, it was you he was pointing towards during his celebration (or sending a text to ask if you were watching as soon as he was in the locker room for intermission, if it was an away game). If he had plans with Jack he would always send you a message, inviting you to tag along. Nico had even memorized your class schedule and your coffee order, bringing you your caffeine fix on lecture mornings when he would pick Jack up for morning skate. You found yourself talking to Nico almost more than you spoke to Jack, finding it harder and harder to keep your promise to yourself.
Jack could sense the underlying feelings you had for his captain, being able to pick up on all of your tells from the many years of friendship. He saw the way your gaze would immediately start sweeping any room you entered until it settled on Nico. He pretended not to notice the way you would always come out of your room on the mornings Nico was coming by before practice, hair and make-up already done, sitting in the kitchen to ‘work on homework’ before your lectures. He noticed when you bought his captain’s jersey, alternating between the 13 and 86 jerseys every other game. He noticed the way you would instantly perk up at the mention of Nico’s name in any conversation.
Jack also noticed the way Nico tried, and failed, to hide the feelings he had for you, as well. He noticed the way Nico would skate out for warm-ups and look around the glass until he saw you, waiting a few minutes before he made his way over to the glass where you were standing, pretending to be surprised when he turned around and found you behind him. Jack noticed the way Nico suddenly wanted to always come over to his apartment instead of Jack going to what the team refers to as the ‘captain’s quarters’. He noticed the way Nico would always come back with your favorite cocktail in hand anytime you were with them on a night out.
The back and forth between you and Nico continued for months, neither one of you ever taking the next step to admit feelings for one another. Jack wished the two of you would just get it over with at this point, the inevitable apparent to everyone but yourselves. So, when Jack opened the lake house invitation to Nico, Alex, and Dawson this summer, he can’t lie and say he didn’t have some ulterior motives.
Now, as you and Nico walked ahead of everyone else, lost in your own little world, he knew he made the right decision.
You had just eaten dinner, Jack having made reservations at a local seafood place he was dying to take everyone to, when you announced you wanted ice cream. You had suggested the small ice cream shop a short walk from the restaurant, wanting to stay out in the small lake town a little bit longer. You had sat next to Nico at dinner, staying in your own conversation most of the meal, being brought into the larger conversation happening around you only if either of your names were mentioned. The conversation followed the two of you outside, talking about his upcoming trip home.
“So, when are you leaving this utopia?” You asked him, shoulders bumping as you walked on the sidewalk beside him, a car driving by, causing your sundress to ruffle and flow in the passing wind.
“Not until the end of the month. Why? Can’t wait to get rid of me?” he responds with a playful smile, putting his hand on your back, pushing you over to the inside of the sidewalk, placing himself closest to the active road beside of you.
“Not even close,” you link your pinky with his, a habit you’ve gotten into anytime you’re walking beside him. “Dreading the day, actually. This is your first summer here, and you don’t even get to experience the best part!”
“I thought the best part was that you were here?” he references the statement you made when trying to convince him to make the trip to Michigan for the summer.
“Well, the next best part,” you respond, waving off his words. “You’re going to miss the boat parade on the Fourth of July!”
“A…boat parade?” Nico questions.
“Yes! A boat parade! Everyone decorates their boats and then drives them around the lake. Everyone here goes crazy for it. People don’t spare a single expense when it comes to boat decorations. One family even paid those statue street performers to play Uncle Sam and Lady Liberty on their boat on year,” you explain, earning a laugh from Nico.
“Why do I have the feeling you would have done that if you thought of it first?” he asks in-between chuckles.
“Because I would’ve! I was so mad that I didn’t even think of it. The only year we haven’t won it. Well, other than the years we haven’t been able to make it up here,” you shrug, thinking of all the time you’ve missed out on in the past few years.
“Well, you’ll have to come up with something even crazier this year. To make up for all the lost time,” Nico squeezes your pinkies closer together, knowing how much you hate the summers you can’t come here. “Look, you could go get a tattoo of the American flag, or something. Decorate your body, not just your boat. Really commemorate the summer,” he points to the tattoo shop you’re walking past, laughing at the craziness of the idea.
Maybe it was the heat finally getting to you. Maybe it was all the lake water you had swallowed the past few weeks. Or maybe it was the build-up of the months worth of feelings you’ve had for the man in front of you, but something in you made you say “Let’s go do it.”
“What?” Nico stopped in his tracks, looking over at you like you had three heads.
“I said let’s do it,” you said again, a serious look on your face.
“As in let’s go let you get a tattoo of the American Flag?” he asked again, confirming the idea forming in your brain.
“Yes. Well, I mean no. But yes,” you start, letting go of his pinky you were still holding on to. “I mean, let’s go get tattoos to commemorate the summer, like you said.”
“Like…right now?”
“Yes, right now. Why not? It’ll be fun. At the very least it’ll be a story to tell one day,” you try to convince him, acting as if this isn’t the most out of character thing you could suggest.
“I mean, what would we even get?” Nico asks, the word ‘no’ never coming out of his mouth.
“I don’t know, whatever you want. It doesn’t have to be anything big. Or anywhere where everyone will see it. It can just be something we know we have, y’know?” you continue to try to convince him.
“Hey! Why’d you two stop? The ice cream shop is another block down.” Jack asks as the rest of the group approaches the two of you.
“Y/N is trying to convince me to go get a tattoo with her right now,” Nico tells everyone, earning a collection of shocked faces.
“You two? Getting matching tattoos?” Dawson asks, looking between the two of you.
“They don’t have to be completely matching. Just something to make us thinks of this moment. This summer,” you explain. “We could all get one, actually. As a group!”
“You’re out of your mind if you think any of us are getting tattoos right now,” Jack speaks up, not scared to call you out on your stupid ideas.
“I don’t think it’s that crazy of an idea. It could be fun,” Nico surprises everyone.
“Cap, are you serious? You’re thinking about going and getting a tattoo right now?” Alex questions.
“I’ve been thinking about getting another one for awhile now, so why not right now? Like she said, it’s a good summer memory, Holtzy” Nico shrugs, sounding like he’s made up his mind.
“Of course you would agree to get a matching tattoo with her. You guys are practically attached at the hip anyways,” Dawson says, causing both you and Nico to flush a light shade of pink. “You guys go have your fun, get matching tattoos, but we’ll be eating ice cream, loving the taste of no regrets,” Dawson gives up the fight.
“Just…don’t get each other’s names on your foreheads,” Jack says, shaking his head as he walks away.
Dawson and Alex follow Jack, grumbling about how they can’t believe you’re actually going to do this. Alex slides in a “at least ask her on a date first, cap” as he walks away, Nico praying you didn’t hear the comment.
You turn towards Nico, holding your hand out. “You ready?”
He takes your hand, letting you pull him into the tattoo shop’s open door. “Let’s go get tattoos together.”
An hour later, you and Nico walked out with two fresh wounds on your ankles.
Both of your tattoos were so small you truly had to look for them to notice them. You had ended up getting tattoos that were technically matching, but could have meaning on their own, too. The artist had laid out a bunch of stencils she had ready to go, letting you pick from the pile which ones you wanted. You had found a small heart with devil horns, pointing it out to Nico and jokingly suggested he get it to show his Devils heritage. At almost the exact same time, his eyes landed on a small heart with a halo over it, his eyes lighting up.
He had agreed to get the devil one only if you got the matching angel one. So, twenty minutes later, the stencils were placed and you both sat on the table as two different artists tattooed you simultaneously.
The rest of your small group teased the two of you about it for the rest of the summer. After Nico left at the end of that month, the conversation shifted from teasing about the tattoos, to teasing about when the two of you were finally going to admit your feelings to each other. You waved off their words, sticking to your explanation of you two being just friends, but they didn’t let you forget that, in their words, you ‘basically branded’ their captain.
When Nico arrived home, Nina immediately clocked the small tattoo on her brother’s leg, questioning him about it. He told her it was just a last-minute decision, something to do after the season was over, not wanting to hear any nagging about how irresponsible it was that he let a girl he was even dating talk him into getting a matching tattoo. But, when Nina saw your Instagram post at the end of the summer, the very last picture showcasing a small, familiar looking angel tattoo, she barged into Nico’s bedroom, demanding answers.
“Nico, you better explain to me what the hell is going on here, because last time we spoke you hadn’t even told her you have feelings for her yet,” Nina interrogated Nico in their native language.
“Yeah…well that hasn’t really changed. Just…haven’t found the chance yet,” he avoids talking about the tattoo, choosing to talk about the other half of her question.
“Well after this, what the hell are you waiting for?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. What if she doesn’t feel the same way? What if she moves back home after she graduates next year and just leaves me behind?” Nico voices his fears to his older sister.
“Nico, she asked you to get matching tattoos. There’s no way she doesn’t feel the same way as you. I haven’t even fully met the girl, only having talked to her on your facetime calls, and I can see that she’s head over heels for you,” Nina encourages Nico, causing a warm feeling in his chest at his sister’s words.
“Well, when you put it that way…” Nico trails off, thinking about the events of this summer in full. “You know what, you’re right. As soon as I get home, I’m telling her. What’s the harm? And if she doesn’t have feelings for me, well, at least we’ll always have tattoos together.”
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fawnchives · 3 days
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♡𓂃 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆.
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𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, christopher sturniolo & fem!reader.
episode summary: you and chris attend one of tara’s parties, where one first time leads to another unexpectedly.
parental advisory & ratings: slight angst, but it gets fluffier towards the end + established relationship with chris. talks and usage of drugs—molly to be specific, swearing, talks of sex and virginity loss, and nick locking in big brother mode.
♥︎ ⋆ ͘. behind the scenes. first things first: do not do drugs! in no shape or form am i promoting drug usage. anyways, this was well out of my comfort zone but i did enjoy writing it, i hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much — be safe ! 💐
april 20th, 10:47 pm ── beverly hills, ca.
ever since you saw the videos from tara yummy’s one million party, you’ve been begging for chris to take to you one. the puppy dog eyes and princess tantrums must’ve charmed him over because that’s exactly how you spent your friday night instead of curled up in bed, indulging in terribly written netflix shows and a tub of ben & jerry’s brownie batter ice cream.
though you guys weren’t in hawaii, the theme of her latest party was a luau—one of tara’s friends let her use their beach house; the perfect view of the ocean, the floral and beachy decor, and island style drinks and food. it was, well, perfect. especially considering that it was your first time going to a big party, nothing too crazy.
or so you thought.
the frilly and cheerful flower necklace that laid around your neck moved frantically with every move you made as you danced to the beat of the music with tara. the big speakers produced such a deep volume of bass that it made the walls in the house shake and the floor vibrate. and though you were having the time of your life, you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed over the fact that you were practically glued to tara’s side all night.
it wasn’t too much of your fault, everybody you knew was either busy or couldn’t make it; nick and matt stayed home, nick complained something about having a ‘debilitating migraine’ and matt was in one of his moods. madi got caught up in some sort of brand deal nightmare and the moment you arrived to the party, one of chris’s friends pulled him towards the drinking games table. you always felt a bit out of place around his friends so you just let it happen, not wanting to live up to the ‘clingy girlfriend’ title you’re sure they tease him about.
you and tara flashed each other toothy, anticipated smiles as you both walked over to a less noisy area, trying to catch your breaths from all the dancing you’ve engaged in. you two giggle and gush over how much fun you’re having when suddenly, the dj switches the track to a slower paced song, earning a thankful sigh from tara.
“thank god,” the short brunette dramatically exhaled as her arms fell to her sides. she looked around the room and quickly locked eyes with her ex boyfriend, jake, sending him some sort of hand signal as she motioned towards you. “hey um, hun? i think i’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick.”
“do you want me to come with?” you curiously offered, oblivious to what she was hinting towards. “you know, to stand guard.”
“oh, no need!” the girl singsonged, forcing a smile as her eyes darted between jake and one of the bathrooms down the hall. it suddenly clicked in your head, and you felt like a cockblocking moron. you awkwardly watched as jake pushed past a few people, making his over to you two—well, really tara.
“you should go find chris!” tara giggled loudly as she let her ex pull her away. that was her nice way of telling you to get lost.
11:17 pm.
after what felt like forever searching through a sea of people, you finally found chris. he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, talking to one of his friends. despite being a bit out of breath, you excitedly called out his name and waved at him. his friend quickly glanced in your direction, patted him on his shoulder, and bolted away just as you made your way towards him.
“hey—you okay, babe? you look tired.” chris questioned as his brows furrowed with worry the more he examined your state. he wasn’t lying, you were a bit tired from the dancing and walking around. but you didn’t wanna go home just yet. not so early into the party.
“i’m fine.” you shook your head as your boyfriend wrapped his arm around you. “just a little thirsty, all the dancing and stuff.” he kept his arm lazily draped around you as you two waltzed your way to the kitchen to find something to quench your thirst.
11:35 pm.
you and chris quickly settled on some punch, red cups filled with the delicious citrusy beverage as you both caught up with each other. you gushed to him about the dance frenzy you were in with tara and he bragged about how he totally “kicked ass” at beer pong. between the loud music and fast paced convos, you both didn’t hear the kitchen door swing open.
“chris sturniolo, i thought i’d see you here.”
you both quickly turned around at the sudden sound of a girl’s voice and your eyes are met with the sight of a tall blonde girl. your eyes darted between the semi uncomfortable look on chris’s face and the friendly look on hers—definitely laced with something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
you awkwardly coughed as you sloshed the rest of your drink around in your cup. “you two know each other or…?”
“we used to be, um—” chris nervously fumbled with the sleeve of his jacket.
“we go way back,” the girl answered for him, somewhat saving his ass from a whole lot of questions and awkwardness. she turned her attention towards you and smiles tightly. so fake.
“i’m brooke.” she reached her hand out for you to shake. you return the favor with a small smile back.
chris awkwardly cleared his throat. “right. y/n, this is brooke, brooke, this is y/n, my—”
“girlfriend.” the tall blonde answered for him again. “yeah, yeah…kinda figured. the way you had your arm around her earlier kinda gave it away. anyways uh—” you watched as she began to dig in her clutch purse and you couldn’t help but to feel a small pang of jealousy form in the pit of your stomach. you weren’t sure what kind of relationship she has with chris—or what kind of relationship she had, but the girl was drop dead gorgeous, the way her small black dress clung to her body showing off her curves…it was almost mesmerizing.
“speaking of introductions and stuff like that,” brooke said as she she slowly pulled out a bag of white pills from her clutch. “i’m hoping you two wouldn’t mind meeting my friend molly tonight.”
chris’s facial expression darkened as he pushed you behind him. “absolutely not, okay? y/n—she’s not that kind of girl.”
your stomach flip flopped, you’re weren’t stupid. you knew what was in that bag, despite your lack of knowledge and experience on it. though, curiosity gotten the best of you.
“wait,” you stepped forward, eyes darting between the bag and brooke. “i dunno, i mean, what’s it…like?”
brooke smirked as she placed two single pills on to your palm. “first timer huh? don’t worry, chris hasn’t tried it either. but if you really wanna know…” you leaned forward on the counter as she edged you with her words. chris scoffed and looked away, but made sure he stayed by your side despite being ticked off.
“…colors get brighter, sounds get sharper. you feel more connected to everything you love, that’s why they call it the love drug.”
chris angrily watched as brooke slowly walked off to a group of partygoers by the door, enthusiastically greeting them with hugs. he turned back towards you and sighed, shoulders slumping. “you don’t—you don’t have to—”
“no!” you squeaked back excitedly. “i do, i do want to, i mean. it’d be both our first time taking, um, well you know.” you couldn’t bring yourself to say the word. “c’mon babe, please?”
your boyfriend let out a defeated sigh as he looked around the kitchen before picking one of the small white pills out the center of your palm.
you two exchanged nervous smiles as you toasted with your red solo cups, downing the drug with the party punch.
12:30 am.
“c’mere,” chris giggled as he pulled your legs into his lap. you two were currently seated on the memory foam couch in the middle of the living room, center of the ongoing party. it was a little after an hour since you and your boyfriend took the pills—the pills which have definitely kicked in. brooke wasn’t lying, the colors in the atmosphere looked like something straight from a lisa frank collection, you felt light and airy asa feather. you giggled some more as you ran your finger through chris’s hair, his chocolate colored waves nearly having you under hypnosis.
“what is with you and my hair?” he laughed, gently pushing your hands away from his head.
“mmm, it’s just so…just so soft.” you lazily responded before booping the boy’s nose.
he lazily threw his head back against the couch and smiled at you. “you wanna know what really feels soft, babe? this couch—just feel it, like, oh my god.” you two bursted into another fit of giggles as you felt up on the couch cushions, soon melting and becoming one with the foam.
“i love this couch!” you gushed happily. “i love this house! it’s so awesome, oh my god!”
chris giggled at your euphoric state as he sat up a bit. “i’m so glad, i mean. i really am so glad for a lot of stuff. i was kinda worried when we first got here that the party would be a bit too much for you, y’know. i never want anything to ever be too much for you.”
“baby.” you smiled at your boyfriend’s intoxicated state.
“nooo, i’m serious,” he continued. “i just love you s’much, i know i can be high on energy like allll the time but sometimes i worry that i might be too much for you. and i was talking to the guys earlier and sex got into the topic, they asked if we’ve ever done it yet and, i dunno. i’m not sure if you wanna.”
“w-wait,” you stopped him, sitting up as soon as the word sex left his lips. “so, like, do you not wanna have sex with me?” you nervously chewed on your bottom lip as he quickly shook his head.
“no, no!” chris practically yelped. “i do, i really do, but i don’t wanna like…it’s no pressure! none at all—”
“i want to.” you suddenly found yourself on your feet, excitement and anticipation shooting through your bloodstream. “i’m ready. i wanna do it.”
“you sure—”
“i’m sure.” you nodded eagerly. chris smiled softly as he slowly stood up, wrapping his arm around your waist. “okay, babe.” he pressed a kiss along your temple. “let’s go find a room.”
april 21st, 9:30 am ── los angeles, ca ; present time & day.
chris absentmindedly toyed with the rubber band around his wrist as he sits on the barstool in front of the kitchen counter, watching nick prepare breakfast as he blabbers on about some sort of instagram dilemma; something about him not knowing which pictures to posts? dunno, beats chris, not like he’s listening.
which earns him a sharp scolding from the eldest sturniolo triplet. “hello, earth to fucking christopher. i asked you question like five minutes ago. are you gonna answer or are you gonna sit there staring into space like you’ve just seen a ghost or something equally fucked up?”
chris’s pale blues shoot up to meet nick’s. “hm?”
“okayyyyy…” nick turns his attention back to the waffle maker he’s been messing with for the past hour. three waffles made, three more to go. “what’s up—and don’t tell me it has anything to do with you being hungry. when you’re hungry, you act like a fucking warthog, not a spaced out idiot.”
the longer haired boy rolls his eyes in annoyance.
“something tells me it has something to do with y/n?” nick tries, eyes occasionally glancing up. “did you guys get into a fight? she’s been acting weird this morning too.”
the way chris’s shoulder slump tells nick that he’s right on the money—after what happened last night at the party? there’s been an uncanny amount of silence between you two and a dreadful, looming feeling of fear. and guilt, lots of it.
“no, we just—” the youngest triplet groans loudly as he buries his face into his hands. “we kinda had…sex.”
“you guys had sex!” nick shouts, causing chris to grit his teeth and throw an oven mitt at his brother. “god nick, could you be any louder? i don’t think the people on the first floor heard you!”
“i-i’m sorry,” nick responds in a whisper shout as he finishes cooking up the last round of waffles, sliding them on to a plate. “but that’s a really big fuckin’ deal—you two had sex!”
“we were high, nick, really fucking high…we took each other virginities, we weren’t thinking straight.”
“WHAT?!”
“nick, shut the fuck up!” matt whines from his room, slamming the door shut. nick and chris exchange looks before breaking out into a giggle fit, but it doesn’t last long.
“so let me get this straight,” nick pours syrup over his and chris’s waffles. “you guys got high, blasted out of your minds, and then fucked?”
chris nearly chokes as he washes down his food with apple juice. “even though thats literally what happened, don’t say it like that. it sounds bad.”
“it kinda is bad, chris.” nick shakes his head. normally, nick would be quick to scold his younger brothers whenever they did something so utterly stupid, but looking at the depressive state chris is in, he decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. “but it’s not the end of the world. you two did something pretty stupid and irresponsible, yeah, but there’s couples out there who have done worse. there’s still time to fix things between each other.” nick nods towards the balcony, where you been sitting out for most of the morning.
“she’s out there, go talk to her.”
you jump at the sudden sound of the balcony door sliding open. you turn around to see chris standing in the doorway. you give him a small wave and halfhearted smile before settling back down on the lounge chair you’ve been camping out on for the past few hours.
“hey.” chris greets softly, handing you a can of pepsi as he sits down on the empty chair next to you. you can’t help but to roll your eyes and laugh as you accept his carbonated drink offer.
“i’m sorry,” you both say in unison, causing each other to laugh. chris shakes his head once the laughter dies down. “i’ll go first; i’m sorry. last night should’ve went down differently, and i shouldn’t have let you…you know. mess around with that stuff. your first time should’ve been special.”
your brows furrow. “but it was special, chris. i mean sure, it wasn’t exactly how i planned my first time going but i don’t regret it at all. not a single bit. i even thought you were mad at me.”
the brunette nearly chokes as he looks at you. “mad at you? baby, i thought you were mad at me!”
“no!” you laugh. he laughs. you both laugh again. you guys look at each other and then look away.
“so we’re good, right?” you ask.
chris leans forward and grabs you by the waist, settling you into his lap. “yeah, babe. we’re good.” you two snuggle and enjoy the morning sun when suddenly, the sound of nick’s annoyed voice fills the air.
“you guys better come eat these fucking waffles! i spent an hour nearly burning my fucking hand off for these shits!”
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likes + comments & reblogs are highly appreciated.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 tags. @sugrhigh @dominicfikue @kangelics @xoxo4chrisss @wovenribbons @ethelcained @cherrypostsposts
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let's pretend that this is the right timeline because what if Dick becomes Batman at the same time when Wally becomes The Flash?
let's also say that this is just like the Justice League animated series wherein the League members don't know each member's identities (except of course Bruce, he knows everybody).
how funny would it be if Dick and Wally are together and the rest of the League are confused because all of a sudden Batman and Flash are close like super close? i mean they have witnessed how Flash gets intimidated by Batman. now, that's not the case anymore.
during a meeting:
Hal, leaning to John during a League meeting, whispers: I'm not losing my mind, right?
John, whispers back: I think I know what you mean.
Hal: Why is Flash making heart eyes to Bats????
John: I know??? Flash doesn't even look him in the eyes before.
Hal: That's so odd, dude.
Batman glances at the two Green Lanterns which makes them shut up.
meanwhile, across the table, Martian Manhunter has a light smile on his lips and Superman covers his laugh with a cough.
-
at the cafeteria:
Ollie: Hey, Dinah. Have you noticed something unusual between Batman and Flash lately?
Dinah: It is quite unusual, huh? I was talking to Hawkgirl the other day and she said she saw Flash bridal carry Bats.
Ollie: What the actual fu-
Flash, approaches the couple's table with a big bowl of nachos on his hand: Hey, guys! Mind if I sit with you?
Ollie and Dinah give a knowing look at each other. a conversation they definitely will finish later.
-
during in an another planet mission:
Batman, after announcing everyone's partners for the mission:... And lastly, I will pair up with Flash in today's mission.
Flash grins widely, that has Arthur thinking his cheeks might be hurting after that.
Arthur: Yeah, yeah. At this point, we already know, Bats!
the Green Lanterns, along with Captain Marvel and Booster Gold, snicker at his comment.
Batman ignores Arthur's comment and the rest of the members scatter to their assigned locations.
Victor, who was paired with Arthur: Was gonna give that comment too.
Arthur: It's like they are inseparable all of a sudden.
Victor, shakes his head: Well, I have seen weirder things.
-
in the meeting hall:
Wonder Woman, pulls Batman in the corner of the room: Okay, that's enough. You are truly ignoring me. What is going on with you lately?
Batman: Did the rest of the League put you up to this?
Wonder Woman, has her hands on her hips: They didn't need to. So, tell me. And don't you ever lie to me, I can see right through you, Batman.
Batman, sighs: It's hard for me to explain. I can't-I can't tell you right now.
Wonder Woman: Hera! Now, Bru-Batman.
before Batman responses, the door of the meeting hall opens and in comes Robin with his katana. the conversations between the League members come to a stop as they stare at the young hero.
Robin, glances at everyone, before approaching Flash: I need help with an important matter.
Flash, smiles and ruffles Robin's hair, as if that's second nature: Of course, little dude.
Hal, stands up from his seat: THAT'S IT! Can somebody tell me what the hell is going on????
Ollie, stands up with him: Are we in another dimension that I don't know about?????
Dinah pulls Ollie down by his arm to make him sit again.
the rest of the League members start to converse against each other.
Superman, floats a bit from his seat: Why don't we all settle down? There's nothing to be alarmed about.
Robin, shakes his head: Tt. Absolute fools.
by the time Bruce and Barry are back:
-
Bruce, pinches the bridge of his nose: Chum, you could at least be discreet with Wally.
Dick: It's not my fault, B! I swear I was going to explain to Aunt Diana then Dami entered the room.
Damian: Tt. Don't blame me, Grayson. Why don't you lecture West on how to be more responsible? He left me on read when I asked help for my Science project.
Dick, sighs: And what about Timmy? He could have helped.
Damian: I don't want anything to do with Drake.
Bruce massages his temples as he feels a headache coming up.
-
Barry: Wally!!!!
Wally, zooms right in front of Barry: I couldn't help it, okay?? Dick is just irresistible.
Iris giggles as she prepares the table for dinner.
Barry, sighs: That's alright. I'll talk to Bats on how we can explain it to the team.
Wally, grins and sits down by the table: It was hard not to laugh at them. They were so confused.
Barry, chuckles: I'm sure Hal's expression was the funniest.
Wally, laughs: You have no idea, Uncle Barry.
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rafeysdoll · 17 hours
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https://www.tumblr.com/rafeysdoll/748215216138059776/bsf-rafe-convincing-reader-that-its-normal-to
i’m literally FERAL
could you please do one where rafe somehow convinces reader and he FINALLY gets to be inside of her🫶🫶🫶
definitely rushed in the end so i’m sorry :( kinda struggled with this but i really hope you like it anyway.
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"rafey," you mewl, tugging at his polo as he laid on the couch, writing emails and conducting business. "im.. needy, want help." you whisper, biting your lip as you tilt your head to the side. "what was that?" he taunts, shit eating grin displayed on his face as he dismisses his phone, tossing it aside as he gets up anyway.
you eagerly head back into his room, quickly jumping to his bed as you wait for him to lay, ready to hump him as if he was your very own toy to get rid of all your overwhelming desires.
but yet he remains the same, standing still with his tongue nudging at the side of his cheek as he sighs rather dramatically, hand now over his hip. "you know, baby.. i.. uh," he pauses, tactifully letting silence fill the room for you to worry, wanting you get yourself worked up.
"i just dont know how to say it," he continues, turning around so he can only give you a show of the back of him. “what is it?” you question, voice bordering a whimper. “did i do something wrong?”
rafe smiles menacingly, taking a deep breath. it was time for the last stone to be set.
“here, come stand next to me alright?” he requests, turning back around to offer his hand. you quickly listen, right besides him in seconds as he caresses your hand in his own. “baby, i don’t know if i can do this.” he states, brows meeting together in a tight line, leaning in slightly as if he was offended.
you take a shaky breath and gulp, a strong queasy feeling in your stomach. “w-why?” you reply, bottom lip put out. “you.. you don’t like it?” you frown.
“no, no i do. that’s the problem, im a man.. and, well uh.. it’s hard, you know baby? got all these feelings and i can’t even act on them. i mean, it can’t be fair.” he confesses, pretty blue eyes staring at your own.
“oh,” you realize, looking down at your connected hands. “well.. well that can change, can’t it? we can just.. you know.” you whisper, heat and desperation tingling through your body. you didn’t want any of this to end, you were willing to do anything before he had to be ripped away from your hands. “oh.. oh i dunno baby, that’s a big step.” rafe pretends to deny, his cock already twitching and throbbing. he was so close to what he had been working towards for so so long.
“no, no really rafe. i.. i mean now we can both.. enjoy it.” you carry on, nodding. “please? don’t wanna go to anyone else,” you plead, small tears collecting in your lower lash line. “you.. you sure?” he smiles, his own heart thumping profusely in his chest. “i’m sure, ray.”
the rest was a fast blur, your best friend’s thick length bullying himself inside you, crying at every single ministration he gave you, hoping this could never end.
it was the first night rafe finally got through to your tiny hole, writing and squirming under his touch as he mumbled sweet nothings besides your ear — telling you he had been waiting for so long.. that the wait was worth it to finally do this. it was perfect in both of your minds.. rafe finally getting his best friend on his cock and you simply thinking you were only making both you and him happy.
you were always rafe’s girl, even before you ever realized it.
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mxtantrights · 2 days
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Hello there, ‘tis I again! Soo happy you enjoyed the boxer!jason request!! I know, i love him too :)))
Today i bring forth another boxer!Jason ask, maybe you introduce him to your friends and they can’t see past the fact he kinda looks like a brute (even tho he’s such a big softie, i truly believe this man reads romeo and Juliet while waiting to get on the ring), and so at the end of the night he’s feeling insecure cause he could see how your friends looked at him and he starts wondering if they are right and you deserve someone who’s softer and more approachable. And obviously reader shows him just how amazing he is!!
Today i yearn for some good hurt/comfort, if you couldn’t tell lol
Hope you have fun writing this one!! Marvellous works 🩷🩷
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Everything goes right before the two of you get there. Thats how Jason knows something is gonna go wrong at this hang out. You told him all week that if he felt like not going, you could cancel. But he didn't want it to seem like he was blowing your friends off. So he trudged through.
He trudged through and is sitting side by side with you in a booth. And three of your friends are crowded into the other side of it. They've had a couple of drinks before you came. You weren't really in the mood to play catch up so you stick to your one while Jason goes dry because he's driving.
They have conversations about the recent news, the latest gossip, and then they ask about your life. Particularly your life with Jason. You start gushing about him, as if he isn't there, and tell them about how you met and how he treats you.
"This guy? This six foot tall, three hundred pounded brick wall?" one of them asks.
You scoff, "How he looks has nothing to do with how he treats me."
"Yeah, but doesn't he-don't you box?" another one of them asks him.
Jason clears his throat and sits up straight. But you notice it. You notice how he is trying to make himself smaller. He did it at the very beginning of your relationship, to make you less scared. You talked to him about it when the two of you got closer, and you haven't seen him do it since. Until now.
"I'm a boxer, yes. But I don't bring any of that home with me." Jason answers.
"Isn't it hard though? When you're angry? I mean who's to say you won't-" the third friend starts.
Hell. This has to stop.
"Enough." you speak.
They all look at you, at a loss for words. While it's true the four of you grew up looking like people who were afraid to tell others no, and looked like doormats, you were far from that person. Those days are over.
"I'm not gonna let you speak to him like that. He has been nothing but kind and open with me, and not that it's any of your business, but he has never laid his hands on me, or raised his voice." you say.
Then you're getting up from the booth, holding your hand out for Jason. He looks between you and your friends and then he's getting up from his seat. He takes your hand in his.
"He's my boyfriend. I want him in my life and I wanna be a part of his. So either you get that or you get lost." You put finally.
You turn around and walk right out the door with Jason. Jason who hasn't said a word yet. Jason who is holding onto your hand in a way that tells you he's not completely paying attention.
When the two of you cross the threshold of the doors, you squeeze his hand.
"Baby?" you ask him.
Jason looks at you then. Like everything is coming back into focus for him. He has a sad smile on his face.
"I'm sorry." He says.
"Don't ever be sorry for being you. If my so called 'friends' couldn't see past what you look like and what you do for a living then they don't need to be my friends." you explain to him.
Jason shakes his head, "You've known them longer than me. It's not fair that-"
"Jason Todd, I am not willing to give you up. For anyone. Ever. You got that?"
Jason lets out a small sigh. "Okay."
You let go of his hand to hold out your arms. He pouts a bit before stepping closer to you and wrapping his arms around you completely. You nuzzle into him more.
"I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you. I hope you know that." you add on.
"Yeah?" he asks.
"I swear it." you answer.
a/n: thank you so so much for sending this in! <333 I love some good hurt/comfort too!! I hope you like it!!
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