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spectorgram · 5 months

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the letter

theodore nott x f! reader summary: you get a letter from a secret admirer who wants to confess. your best friend is none too pleased. notes: jealous! theodore nott >>> word count: 1.4k

You would think for a magical school, Hogwarts would have better heating or some heating spell, but the Slytherin dorms are frigid as usual as winter creeps up. You fasten your robe clasps and draw it tighter around you, simultaneously trying to tug your skirt down in a futile way to heat yourself up more. Your knee-high socks only do so much and you pretty much give up on the endeavor as you climb up the stairs and head for the Great Hall.

You’re immediately greeted by the cozy warmth of the hall, spotting your friends, all swathed in green and silver robes and knits. Theo spots you first, sliding over and nearly knocking Blaise off the bench. “Blood hell, mate,” Blaise grumbles as you approach, kicking Theo’s leg lightly.

You slip into the space created for you, right in between Theo and Enzo. You stifle a yawn and ask, “Can someone pass the eggs and bacon?”

As Enzo reaches for both platters, Theo’s eyes zero in on your legs. “How are you not cold?”

You frown. “I am,” you reply, piling your breakfast onto your plate, “but Pansy’s demon cat apparently thought my winter tights were toys and decided to scratch them all up.”

Pansy sighs, “I’ve ordered you new ones, calm down.”

Theo drapes his robe over your legs and you smile gratefully at him. He smiles back and your heart flips. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how beautiful he is — all dark caramel curls and long lashes that frame those devastatingly blue eyes. He’s been your best friend since you started Hogwarts and you knew you loved him at first sight. The longer you’ve known him, the more you’ve fallen for him.

It’s a tale as old as the world itself: you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend but you value your friendship far too much to do anything to jeopardize it.

“Mail’s here,” you hear someone say down the table. You look up to the ceiling, which has been enchanted to look like a sky that’s about to break open and drop snowflakes from its clouds. Owls soar in through the openings at the top of the walls, diving down towards their intended recipients.

“Maybe your new tights are here,” Enzo says.

Pansy adds, “I hope so. Then you’ll stop complaining about it.”

You snort, reaching up to grab a letter dropped by your family owl. You feed her a piece of scrambled egg as she takes off back towards the owlery. You tuck your parents’ letter into the inner pocket of your robe just as another owl swoops overhead, dropping a pale blue envelope on your lap.

“Who’s that from?” asks Pansy.

You shrug, using your butter knife to open it up. As you do, Draco grumbles at Mattheo: “For the love of Salazar, stop hogging the pastry basket.”

You skim over the letter addressed to you. You tilt your head in confusion and Blaise asks, “What’s it say?”

Enzo peeks over your shoulder and his face breaks into a smirk. “‘Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at midnight tonight. Signed, Your Secret Admirer.’” he reads.

“What?” Theo suddenly snatches the letter from your hand. You watch in confusion as his eyes dart back and forth. His shoulders tense and his mouth purses into a thin, hard line.

“You doing okay there, Nott?” Matthew asks, shooting a simpering smile at his friend. Theo sends a glare back but doesn’t say anything, the letter’s paper crinkling under his grip.

Pansy asks, “Are you going to go?”

You hesitate, surreptitiously glancing at Theo, startled to find that he’s gazing at you with an intensity you’ve never experienced. You pluck the letter from him and fold it neatly. “I think so,” you say. “I’m interested to see who it is.”

“Be sure to bring your wand,” Draco says. “Just in case.”

“Obviously,” you deadpan. The conversation shifts into whether anyone was prepared for midterms coming up.

You fiddle with the letter in your lap. Theo’s silent for the whole conversation.

You chew on your bottom lip as you reread the same sentence in your textbook for what feels like the hundredth time. The letter has stuck in your head the whole day. It crosses your mind that it could be a prank or a set-up — it’s not a secret that Slytherin isn’t the most popular House among your classmates — but you know you can handle yourself. You’re more worried about how Theo was acting at breakfast. He didn’t say a word the rest of the meal, not even when Enzo and Mattheo tried looping him into the conversation. He just sat there, sullen and gloomy, and his mood seemed to worsen more when you handed him his robe back and said you had to get to class.

You sigh heavily, trying to play out every possible scenario that could happen between you and the letter writer. You check the clock in the library: 11:45; you need to head over to the Astronomy Tower.

You groan, gathering your things, sliding them into your bag, and making your way back to the Slytherin common room to drop off your things in your dorm. “Cacophony,” you supply to the portrait, which swings open to let you in.

The common room is blissfully silent when you enter, a welcome contrast to the mess of thoughts in your head. You’re about to head down the hall to your dorm when you collide against someone. You huff an apology but when you feel their hand on your shoulder, you look up to see Theo. He looks intense, eyes wide and glinting with sharp determination and his mouth still set in that frown from earlier. “Sorry, Theo,” you say. “Didn’t see you there. Where are you going at this hour?”

“I was going to find you,” he replies.

“Oh,” you say. ��Well, here I am. Sorry, I’ve got to drop this stuff off and then—”

“Head to the Astronomy Tower,” he finishes for you, “to meet your ‘secret admirer.’”

You don’t like the way he sneers at the last part of his sentence or the way he uses air quotations. You’re about to respond when he says, “Don’t go.”

“What?”

“Don’t go,” he repeats.

“Why not?”

He pauses before saying, “What if it’s someone just having a laugh?”

You bristle, hurt, and you feel your temper flare. “Is it so damn hard to believe that someone might actually have a crush on me?”

Theo laughs, razor-sharp and incredulous, as if he can’t believe that you’re saying something so outrageous, “No, it’s not.”

“Then why shouldn’t I go?”

“Because I don’t want you to!”

“For Salazar’s sake, Theo, you can’t tell me what to do!”

“I know that!”

“Then are you trying to tell me not to go?”

“Because I bloody like you!”

Your heart stutters to a stop. You can only hear the sounds of both of your labored breathing and you suddenly can’t meet his eyes, trying your best to wrap your head around the fact that your feelings are reciprocated. “How long?’ you ask softly, holding your breath.

“Since first year.”

You blink. “Really?”

He rakes a hand through his hair and sighs heavily, “Mattheo’s right; you’re so oblivious.” There’s another beat of silence and he asks, a little shyly, “How do you feel?”

You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. “I like you too, Theo. I’ve liked you since first year as well.”

He echoes your “Really?” and it makes you giggle, “I guess we’re both oblivious.”

He joins your laughter and you let your forehead rest on his chest as your shoulders shake. When it dies down, Theo shifts you off him and lifts your chin with his forefinger, any semblance of coyness gone. You gaze into his ocean blue eyes. Salazar, you could drown in them. He offers a charming smile and he leans close, just a few centimeters away, and says, “Can I kiss you?”

Your eyelashes flutter and your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper, “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Your lips meet, fervent and desperate, years of yearning releasing like water through a broken dam. Theo hooks his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. You wind your arms around his neck, fingers toying with the hair at his nape. He walks you backward, slipping his tongue into mouth as he crushes you up against the wall. He deepens the kiss and your knees go weak.

Theo moves your bag off your shoulder and drops it on the floor. The letter that rested at the top of the pile of possessions falls out, laying forgotten on the ground.

#theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott fic #theo nott imagine #theo nott fic #harry potter #slytherin boys #✶ NOVE WRITES

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atlabeth · 1 month

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true luck's kiss

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of tyche!reader

summary: luke is stuck with a streak of bad luck. what better way to get rid of it than with a child of tyche?

a/n: so this was supposed to come out on st patrick's day but unfortunately im the slowest writer in the world and ive also been doing nothing but watch basketball because we sleep in may. anyways here's a short fluffy blurb because it is getting way too sad in here with my hurricane fics lmao

wc: 1.2k

warning(s): none, this is all fluff. i know crazy coming from me

You grimaced as you pulled the arrow back. Sweat dripped down your forehead and you itched to brush it away, but you ignored the urge as you let out a deep breath.

“Just like that.” Kimia nodded as she stopped behind you. “Perfect angle—now let it fly.”

You did, and the weight lifted off your shoulders once the arrow embedded itself in the center of the target.

“Ending on a bullseye,” she said with a grin. “Great work.”

“Only way to do it,” you said, smiling at her. “Am I a worthy opponent yet?”

She chuckled and patted your shoulder as she moved on. “Maybe one day you’ll be as good as Cabin Seven. Today’s not that day.”

You shook your head with a laugh and took your quiver off your back. “Keep telling yourself that!”

A bow and arrow had become your weapon of choice since the moment you stepped foot into camp, and you’d gotten good over the years—so much so that it was a surprise when your mother claimed you. One day, though, you would get an Apollo kid to admit you were better than them.

You’d just finished putting all your equipment away, and when you turned back, you were met with a mess of brown curls and shining eyes.

“Luke,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “Didn’t know you were in archery today.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. I didn’t come here for archery—I came here for you.”

You chuckled as you gestured with your head, and he got the hint as you started walking together. “How forward of you.”

“It’s a living,” he said with a smile. “How was practice?”

“And small talk?” You pressed a hand to your heart and shook your head. “It must be my lucky day.”

Luke’s smile widened as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “That’s what I came to talk to you about, actually. I do wanna hear about your day, though.”

You shrugged. “It was boring. Killed it at archery, nearly got killed on the climbing wall—I was gonna head back to the cabin to chill for a few hours before dinner, but it looks like you’ve taken that slot.”

He chuckled. “So you are free?”

“I’ve always got some time to listen to Luke Castellan,” you mused. “What’ve you got?”

“I’m cursed,” Luke said.

You stopped in your tracks and looked him right in the eye. “...Cursed.”

He nodded. “I know it sounds stupid, but it’s gotta be true. I mean, nothing is going right for me. I’ve been off my groove with my sword, I’ve lost every canoe race, I nearly burnt my eyebrows off last time I was in the forge, and my team hasn’t won a game of capture the flag this entire month—”

“I know,” you interrupted. “I’m in your cabin.”

“So you know how bad my luck’s been lately!” he exclaimed with a gesture. “It— it was embarrassing, but now it’s just pathetic.”

“You know I can’t fix it, right?” you said wryly. “I’m not my mom.”

“That’s what Annabeth said,” Luke mumbled. “But— but I’ve seen the way you live—you’ve got luck on tap! Your strawberries are always the ripest, you somehow find drachmas on the ground, and your volleyball serves are better than anyone’s.”

“I play varsity back home,” you said. “No luck needed.”

“Still,” he emphasized, “you’re naturally lucky. You’ve literally got it in your DNA, and I’m fresh out of it. That’s gotta be worth something.”

“Not really.” You crossed your arms. “So what do you think I can do about this?”

Luke shrugged. “I dunno. Say something?"

You barely managed to stifle a laugh. “Like what?”

“Pray to Tyche,” he said. “You’re her only kid here—she’s gotta be listening.”

You bit back your smile as you shook your head. “Fine. Just for you.”

“Thank you,” Luke sighed, watching with bated breath as you cleared your throat, closed your eyes, and pressed your hands together.

“Tyche, dearest mother, goddess of luck and fortune—I ask you to shine on Luke Castellan on this day. Smile upon my friend and break his very real curse. If you do this for him, in return, he will do all of my cabin chores for the next month.”

When you opened your eyes, Luke looked quite unimpressed. “Very funny.”

“Feel any luckier?” you asked with a smile as you started walking again.

“I don’t think so,” he said, falling into step with you once more. “Especially because you’re putting conditions in your prayers. I didn’t know we could do that.”

“My mom has a sense of humor,” you mused. “And I also think I might be her favorite.”

“Not all of us have that privilege,” he said wryly. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed your arm to stop you.

“I think I’ve got it,” Luke said. “How about a kiss?”

Your eyebrows rose, but you couldn’t help showing your amusement. “Now it’s a kiss that’ll break your curse?”

He shrugged. “Like I said—you’ve got luck in your DNA. Maybe you could pass that along.”

“Really,” you said dryly.

“I’ve kinda tried everything,” he said. “A kiss from a lucky and pretty girl is far from the worst option.”

You chuckled. “You really know how to flatter ‘em.”

“I try,” he grinned. “Are you up to it?”

You bit your lip as you looked at Luke. Obviously, he was attractive—you’d always held an appreciation for his curls and the way they would constantly get in his eyes. He cut an impressive figure from constant, year-round training, and he even made the camp shirt look good. And gods, that damned smile got you.

There were worse things than kissing you, and there were certainly worse things than kissing Luke Castellan.

“Alright,” you sighed, taking a step forward. “Pucker up, Castellan.”

Before you could really doubt yourself, you leaned forward and kissed him. You weren’t really expecting to actually… like it.

Your first thought was that Luke’s lips were softer than they had any right to be. Your second thought was that his cologne was the scent always floating around the Hermes cabin. You didn’t really mind, though.

Luke gently put his hand on the back of your head to keep you there, and the moment lasted much longer than you initially planned. You also didn’t mind, though your thoughts were far more muddled than they should’ve been when you finally managed to pull away. He seemed to have a gift for that.

You felt your cheeks flush as you looked at him, not even trying to hide your smile. Turns out kissing Luke Castellan was actually pretty great. “Feel any luckier?”

“Yeah,” he said with a soft grin, his eyes twinkling. You wondered if he had the same thought about you. “Yeah. I really do.”

“I think that means it’s worked, then,” you said.

Luke nodded with mock austerity. “We should probably stick together for the rest of the week, though. Just to make sure this bad luck goes away for good.”

“You might be right,” you said. “And uh— you think you need an extra boost?” You glanced away as you bit back your smile. “Just to be safe and all. To really get rid of this curse.”

“You know,” he drew your attention back to him as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and you leaned in closer. “I think I might.”

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #sadie writes

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theapangea · 1 year

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Think You Can Handle It?

Characters/ Pairings: Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are about to touch Lip Gallagher’s dick, maybe there really is a God.

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI!!!, hand job, blow job, swallowing, unprotected p in v, choking, hair pulling, gagging, female and male receiving, rough sex

A/N: I was blushing the WHOLE time I was writing this so that’s your warning lol. Hope you like it you little pervs ;)) I am trying to get better at writing smut so pls be nice! All mistakes are mine.

It wasn’t unusual for you to aimlessly walk into the Gallagher house. There were people always coming and going so they rarely locked the front door. And even when it is locked, like this time, the backdoor is kept open.

The house is quiet when you open the door, a weird phenomenon that only happens once in a blue moon. Looking around through the entry ways to see if anyone is in the living room before making your way up the stairs. You can hear the hum of music from the far end of the hallway. A smile creeps onto your face as the Gallagher you are here to see is the only one home.

Lucky you.

Opening the door to the boys’ room, his head lifting from his textbook to see your cheeky smile staring back at him.

“What are you doing here?” Lip’s monotone voice echoes from the top bunk, a small hit to your ego.

“I’m borrreddd,” you whine, elongating the words. “So I’m here to bother you.” Your fingers graze along the wooden ladder as your other hand pushes the door shut. The locking sound clicks through the room.

“Well don’t. ’ve got homework to do.” The annoyance in his voice is radiating.

Ignoring his command to leave as you are here for one thing and Phillip Gallagher is the only person that can help you out. Your eyes follow the dozens of posters that line the walls, head bobbing slightly to the music that fills the room, fingers trail against any object they can touch.

Lip follows your every movement as you make a half circle around the room, only to disappear under his bed, just out of sight. Which, quite frankly, annoys the shit out of him.

Sighing as he climbs down his bunk. “Can you stop snooping?” His chest lightly hits your back as his fingers graze yours, yanking the action figure that you held in your hand.

His tone is soul crushing but his touch is euphoric, wishing it lingered just a bit longer. And as fast as he touched you, the faster he disappeared, tossing the toy in some unknown direction.

Your mouth opens as you plan to say some snarky comment that will most likely make him laugh but when you turn around the only thing you can notice is his shirtless figure standing right in front of you- the messy bed head, the sleepy smile, the sheer fabric of his blue boxers, standing in between your eyesight and his cock. And boy was there something big begging to get out of those tight little shorts.

Definitely makes a girl have wild thoughts. And did those thoughts not want to be kept in.

Licking your dry lips as you tilt your head to the side, “You look like you have a big dick.”

He laughs, clearly caught off guard by your statement, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” It’s almost as though your tiny comment gives him some sort of ego boost as he stands straighter, puffing his chest out, the tent in his boxers growing more.

“That’s why I said something, dummy.” One of the few nicknames you have for him, rolling your eyes, “Look I know we’re supposed to hate each other and all but I have to admit that I find you really hot.” You’re unable to hold any sort of eye contact with him, shifting between his crotch area and a poster behind him.

His eyes darken as he listens to your confession, “Wow I’m flattered,” The cockiness in his voice is thick, “You wouldn’t be able to handle me anyways,” winking at you.

The arrogance in his tone sends a shiver down your shine, a wet spot starting to form in your core. The comment really sends your dirty thoughts into overdrive, “So it is big huh?” Crossing your arms, having to physically stop yourself from showing any kind of enjoyment from this conversation.

“I don’t really like to toot my own horn, sweetheart.” One of the few nicknames he has for you, rolling your eyes as a quick response.

But you couldn’t help yourself but wonder if he was being honest or not. If The Lip Gallagher actually had a big dick or if it was just something all the girls were lying about. But they couldn’t all be lying, right?

“So can I see it?” You ask innocently, your gaze following along his silhouette.

He ponders the question for a second, contemplating the pros and cons of what could happen if you see his dick. In this case, the pros heavily outweigh the cons. Shrugging his shoulders before hooking his thumbs underneath the hem of his boxers and pulling them to the ground. His cock graciously bouncing in all of its glory as he stands back up.

Eyes wide as his member stands proud and tall right in front of you. The soft skin, pink head, pulsing veins, glistening wet pre-cum leaking from the slit makes it hard for you to look away. Definitely bigger than you thought it was going to be, not that you would admit that you pictured it one too many times.

“Is it what you expected?” He questions, snapping you back to reality. Though you did miss thinking about how nice it would feel deep inside of you.

“I’d say better.” You barely get the sentence out as it bops slightly up and down.

The tension in the small room is thick and growing. You both stand there, not saying a word, not breaking eye contact unless it’s you sneaking another peek at his throbbing cock.

“Can I touch it?” You speak softly, your voice barely audible above the music.

“Are you ready for that, princess?” Yet another nickname but instead of being annoyed, it was actually turning you on. The itching feeling between your legs is spreading through your body, shifting weight from one foot to another, anything to suppress the feeling for just a split second.

Nodding your head in response, your eyes big and doe-like. A quick nod from him signaling for you to approach. You can barely move at first, your legs locking from the heat growing in your core.

You are about to touch Lip Gallagher’s dick, maybe there really is a God.

Taking a couple of short steps to close the distance between the two of you. The hot air of your breaths mixing together as you stare into his piercing blue eyes. Shaking slightly as your fingers graze the delicate top skin, wrapping the rest of your hand around his shaft. A short gasp spills from Lip’s mouth as you begin to stroke the silky skin from the base to the tip, squeezing gentling as you push back down his length. Feeling it grow against your palm, not believing that it can actually get any bigger.

Lip watches as you stroke his erection, barely able to speak. He’s had many handjobs in his years but something about how delicate you are being with him, the hints of innocence and curiosity as you hold his member in your hands. Something that is turning him on more than anything else in his whole life.

“So do you think you can handle it?” He asks as you lift your head, inches away from his face.

Choking on your words, “I'll definitely try.”

Chuckling at your response before placing his rough hands on your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss, the hint of cheap beer and cigarettes fill your senses. Hand gripping tighter around his cock while Lip deepens the kiss. The soft moans vibrate against your lips as your hand starts to pump again, following your movement with his hips.

His hands travels to the base of your neck, tangling his fingers in your hair while tugging at your bottom lip, begging for his tongue to be let in, the taste of beer only intensifies when his tongue dances with yours. His right hand moves down to the small of your back, pulling you towards him, your body’s needing to be close to each other.

His lips only leaving yours as he sits down on the edge of the bed by the window, his left hand still tangled in your hair as he pulls you down to kneel in front of him, the rough carpet digging into your knees. Using his free hand to pump his aching cock, holding it straight between his thumb and middle finger as your head dips down, lips hovering over the soft pink tip. Fingers digging into his skin as they drag along his thighs, body thrusting up begging for you to finally wrap your lips around his length. Finally allowing him to release the built up tension.

Centimeters above his dick, the taste of pre-cum practically already on your tongue. Your spit falls from your mouth, hitting his raw tip as you use it to lubricate the rest of the shaft.

Wrapping your lips around his manhood, flattening your tongue so it lays flat against the sensitive skin on the bottom, sending his body into ecstasy.

A sharp breath inhales from Lip as he stares intensely at your actions. Hands immediately release from you to grip the bed sheet, needing some form of stability as you begin to take his shaft fully into your mouth, only about half way before it becomes too much. Using one of your hands to help cater to the rest of the length that you couldn’t fit, squeezing, pulling, twisting the base as your head bobs faster on his cock. The pretty moans escaping Lip’s mouth as you suck him off.

Moving all of your hair to one side so he can get a better look at you giving him a blow job, “Fuck,” is the only thing he can manage to get out as he buckles his hips underneath you, your mouth pushing him into bliss.

Forcing yourself down more against his length, gagging as you try to take more and more down your throat. The scene increasingly becomes messier as saliva is spilling from your mouth, coating his cock in the liquid. His hands immediately pushing down on the back of your head, his hips thrusting upwards, moving back and forth slightly as you gag against him. His dominant demeanor overflows the pool that leaks through your panties.

With one final thrust, holding a second longer in your throat before releasing you. A much needed breath filling your lungs as you wipe the remaining saliva from your chin, mouth sore from his size. His hands instantly on your face again, his thumbs wiping away the tears that have steamed down your cheeks. His eyes are softer now, concern written all over his face as he examines you.

A small smile peaks through the messy strands of hair that fall in front of your face as you continue to catch your breath. His laugh rings in your ears as he realizes you are fine. Grabbing your hand, tugging light, signaling for you to stand back up with him. Once on your feet, his hands start to roam your body, pulling your old shirt over your head, exposing your bare breast to the warm, still air.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, turning your bodies around with your back to the bed, lowering you down gently, his lips leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck. Sucking hard against your collarbone, purple bruises surfacing.

Arching as he continues his trail down your chest, catching your nipple in his mouth. Licking, nibbling at your delicate skin, moaning in satisfaction. The trail of kisses as he moves to your other breast, using his free hand to massage the one he’s not attending too.

Sliding his hands down your sides, goosebumps surface from where he once was. Hooking his fingers in your shorts, pulling them and your panties off of your legs, helping him in the process. Rough hands stroking against your bare legs, bringing them up above his head so that your naked core is exposed.

The dirty smirk and dark eyes weigh on his face. Breath heavy as you can feel your wetness seep out of you.

Digging his fingers into your fragile skin as they grip the back of your knees, bending your legs and pushing them closer to your chest, holding you in a submission position. His gray blue eyes fixated on yours while he places a small kiss on your tender clit. The small action making your wiggle under his grasp, the whine dancing around the room. A smile residing on his face from sheer satisfaction.

Catching your sensitive nub in his mouth, humming against your clit as your body jolts towards him. Sucking and licking your raw center as you grind against his tongue. Your breath skips as he continues.

Whimpering when he stops, placing small kisses down your folds until he gets to your entrance, sticking his tongue in to get a better taste. Mouth hooking onto your folds as his tongue tries to move deeper into your dripping core. His nose settles against your delicate clit, sending a shooting electricity through your body. Fingers tangling in his blonde locks as you hold him in place as he brushes against your sweet spot.

The overwhelming sensation builds through your body, pumping your blood with sin as his cold tongue mixes with your juices. Arching your back, eyes closed as he continues on his feast. Your moans floating around the room as he eats your pussy, rough lips, cold tongue pushing you so close to the edge. Your thoughts on Lip, his dreaming smile, hard dick, heat growing in your core as he continues to hit your sensitive spot. Enjoying your delicious juices as you ride his face. Body jolting, legs buckling as he helps you over the edge into heaven, your mind cloudy as you cum all over his tongue. Lip licking the remaining juices that have spilled down your butt.

The smirk resides on his face as he knows he did a good job. Standing as one of his hands is still holding onto the back of your thigh and the other is situating his dick to the entrance of your core. His tip turns more red as he grazes lightly between your folds. Your moans mixing as the pain of him not being inside of you becomes too much to handle.

“Put it in already,” You plead, grabbing the back of his legs, hoping that would make it accidentally slip in.

“Needy baby.”

The two little words could have made you cum again right then and there but before you could even process what was going on, his length suddenly shot into you, pushing forcefully through your entrance.

“Fuck -” he moans, “You are so fucking tight.” The buzz of pleasure overcoming the both of you. Pushing deeper inside of your folds, feeling the head going further and further into your pussy.

His left hand abandoning your thigh to let both of your legs rest upon his shoulders, taking his hand to your neck, the purple bruises from his kisses finally appearing, wrapping his fingers around your throat, squeezing the sides gently as he increases his speed. The heat rises as he continues pumping, toes curling, back arching as he fucks you.

Your center continues to leak, lubricating his dick and dripping around his balls that slam into you. Leaning closer to you, your legs the only thing stopping the two of you being chest to chest. Catching your lips in a passionate, wet kiss. Wrapping his arms around your head, bringing you closer to him. Slamming away into your tight core, expanding the entrance over and over again.

His aching cock flexing inside of your walls, building pressure as he continues his movement, holding you extremely close, never wanting to let you go. His name falls out of your mouth as he pounds aggressively into you.

Toes curling, leg shaking, buckling under the pier ecstasy as his rhythm is pushing you more and more towards the edge. The dam is about to break and you are unable to hold it back any longer. The wave of emotion as you cum on his dick.

“Fuck,” his thrust becomes increasingly messier, “‘m gonna cum baby. Shallow?”

The tiny moan of confirmation was all you could get out.

One final thrust before he quickly pulls out and steps back to allow you to drop to your knees, smashing them roughly into the carpet. Wrapping your lips around his swollen cock, sucking as the delicious, hot liquid coats your mouth and throat. Deep throating as much of his cock as you can, his hand tousled in your hair, holding you down.

The sound of you choking on his cock and his euphoric moans fill the tiny room. Pulling back as you catch your breath, wiping the spit and semen from the corner of your mouth.

Smiling widely up at Lip, “Told you I could handle it.”

~~~

So what do you think???

Requests are open <3

#Lip Gallagher x reader #Lip Gallagher x reader smut #Lip Gallagher smut #Lip Gallagher x fem!reader #lip gallagher #lip gallagher imagine #shameless fanfic #shameless x reader #shameless smut #theapangea #smut

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munsonsmixtapes · 5 days

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Wanna Bet?

tattoo artist!Eddie x tattoo artist!reader

Summary: You don't like Eddie, but he's going to convince you that you do, even if it takes a bet to prove it.

This takes places in the year 2,000!

word count: 4,890

cw: none!

Part One

You stared at the door in front of you, the hours that were painted onto it staring back at you. Maybe if you had stood there long enough, the place would’ve closed and you could just leave. You didn’t know why you were so nervous. You had more tattoos than anyone you knew so this one should’ve been a breeze.

Maybe it was because it was a new place. There were new people you didn’t really know yet. The tattoo shop where you had worked had shut down because of a fire and you were still in shock because of it. So not only had you lost your job, but the appointment you had set up with Kip, the owner, had been canceled. He was the only one you trusted so you were hesitant when he had given you a referral. You didn’t care if it was a friend of his, you were still nervous as shit.

Your hand rested on the door handle. You couldn’t get yourself to open it, bile climbing up your throat. You were terrified to say the least, anxiety coursing through you as you thought of every possible thing that could’ve gone wrong.

You had your consultation with Gareth weeks ago and had called to reschedule because you had been scared, but now you were ready. It was just a small tattoo and Gareth had assured you that he’d go easy on you and you could take as many breaks as you wanted. You were looking forward to working with him despite your nervousness.

You finally went inside and the whole place was very tidy despite the sketchy looking exterior. It definitely seemed like whoever owned the place knew exactly how to make people feel comfortable. There was a seating area by the front door with a large couch and a coffee table with a bunch of magazines spread out on it neatly.

A coffee bar was sitting by the front desk, complete with a freshly brewed pot and an array of mugs that fit the aesthetic of the building. There were also different types of sweeteners and a small refrigerator that was filled with many different brands of bottled water as well as multiple different flavors of coffee creamer.

The walls were covered in framed sketches and you wished you had the time to look at them all, fascinated by the details of each one. Rock music was playing loudly over the speakers and it was a song that you had recognized from the radio.

You walked up to the reception desk and the same guy you had remembered from before was behind it typing away on the computer. He looked up at you and gave you a bright smile as if you were old friends.

He was on the phone with who you assumed was a customer and it didn’t seem to be going well just from hearing his side of the conversation.

“Yes, I am so sorry, Rebecca. Believe me, it won’t happen again. Yes, he knows all about it. Yes, I’ll tell him. You have my word. Alright. Buh-bye.” He hung up the phone and brought his attention to you, a bright smile on his face.

“Hey, so sorry about that. Welcome in,” he greeted, his honey eyes shining bright from the sun shining through the window. “How can I help you?”

“I have an appointment.” You gave him your first and last name and he typed some stuff into the computer before looking back up at you. You eyed him and couldn’t help but notice how out of place he looked there. He didn’t have a single tattoo on him and looked like he would’ve been scared to actually step foot into the building.

“Alright, y/n,” his smile widened and you wondered if his cheeks ever hurt from doing that as often as he seemed to do. “If you’ll follow me, we can-“ His words were cut off by the front door opening. It was slammed shut so loudly that the frames on the wall rattled. Whoever had just entered had wanted to make an entrance and it clearly had worked since everyone had turned to see what all the commotion was about. Both you and the receptionist turned to see for yourselves to see the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on.

“I’m back, baby,” he announced, holding his arms out. Your eyes trailed down his body from his long curly hair to his black combat boots. He was so attractive and you wondered how you had never seen him before. You definitely would have remembered him if you had. The receptionist made a beeline for him as well as a few of the employees. It was clear that the man had been gone a while considering everyone’s reaction to him. He must have been pretty popular around there.

“Steve, hug me, honey,” he pulled ‘Steve’ into his arms and pressed a kiss to his cheek only for Steve to rub it away in response. Despite his disgust, you could hear a little giggle fall from his mouth. Was this man God? He must have been because no one would react that way to a mediocre man, would they? At least, you hoped not. You hoped they all had higher standards than that.

He took a drag of the cigarette he was holding and flashed you a smile before crossing the floor to the desk. The smoke passed through his lips and into the air and he titled his head down, his eyes locking onto yours.

You knew his type just by looking at him. He was the life of the party. The kind of guy who thought that everyone was into him just because of his giant ego. And they were into him because of the way he carried himself. Like he didn’t give a damn about anything. And he didn’t. Not even the people who he claimed to be friends with.

You could see him eyeing you when he stepped behind the desk, going through the envelopes that had been sitting on top of it. When most men checked you out, you’d pull your shirt down to show them a little cleavage, but for this guy, you just wrapped your cardigan around yourself, wanting to hide your body. He didn’t seem amused but wasn’t backing off.

It was as if seeing the man had brought your confidence back. Like you were no longer the shy woman you had been just moments ago. Being around men who were full of themselves tended to do that to you. It was as if you felt the need to one up them, having more confidence than they did. You wanted to show that you had superiority.

You turned your back to him, looking at the frames on the wall as you waited for your appointment to get straightened away. You didn’t have anywhere to be until you had to work later that night so you supposed that you could’ve waited just a bit longer.

Your eyes locked onto one in particular. It was a sunflower and you normally wouldn’t have noticed it if it hadn’t stood out amongst all the other images that were far more dark subject matter. It was pretty and so realistic, like you could have reached out and plucked it from the painting.

“Who’s the babe?” Eddie leaned over to Steve, whispering so he was the only one who could hear him. They both looked at you and you just avoided them, still looking at the frames.

“She’s a client,” Steve replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He loved the guy, but sometimes he couldn’t help but think that Eddie was nothing but a pig. “Jesus, Eddie. You just got back home and already can’t keep your dick in your pants?”

“I’m human,” Eddie smirked, his eyes moving down to your ass, admiring the shape of it before turning back to Steve. “Sue me. I mean, look at her man,” he referred to you with his hand. “Look at that ass.” He leaned closer to Steve, pulling his lip between his teeth as he turned back to you to get another glimpse.

“Did you miss the word ‘client’ coming out of my mouth? I’m serious, Ed, you can’t keep sleeping with them. It not only makes you look bad, it also makes the company look bad.”

The shop had gotten multiple phone calls that Steve had the unfortunate pleasure of being on the receiving end of because that had been the phone number he has given the people he had slept with because he hadn’t deemed them important enough to give them his home number.

Not only that, but Steve had walked in on too many of Eddie’s “meetings” in his office and was sick of the guy making a habit of it. Could he have not slept with them in his car or at his house like a normal person?

He was getting tired of the new persona Eddie had taken on as he had gotten more popular. It was fine when he had gotten the motorcycle and when he flirted a little with the clients to make them more comfortable, but he drew the line at him acting like the complete dickhead he had become, using people for their bodies just to throw them away when he was done.

“I just want to-“

“You want to what?” Steve cut him off “Seduce her?”

“Maybe,” Eddie rounded the desk. “We’ll see where it goes.” Steve grabbed onto the back of his jacket and pulled him back, causing Eddie to let out a yelp.

“Not so fast,” Steve shook his head.

“I just want to say hi,” Eddie held his hands up in defense even though the both of them knew that he was lying.

“Saying ‘hi’ leads to flirting which leads to seducing which leads to ‘your place or mine’ which leads to you saying you’ll call and then you never do. I’ve been keeping a tally of all the people who have called here because you were an ass.” Steve held up the notebook he had been writing it and Eddie’s eyes widened.

“Five, ten, fifteen, twenty-“ Eddie counted of the tallies to himself, not even trying to hold back his smile.

“Forty-five, Eddie,” Steve cut him off with a glare.

“Forty-five,” Eddie repeated, a smirk kicking up at the corner of his rosy lips.

“And this is just with clients,” he sighed, throwing the book down “Look, you can fuck whoever you want as long as they’re not seeking business from us.”

“Steve-“

“No,” he pointed at his friend with the pencil he was holding. “If I find out that you did anything but greet her as the owner, I swear to god I will castrate you.” Eddie’s eyes widened at Steve’s threat but only for a second before his smirk took over again.

“But what if-“

“No, this isn’t a challenge. I mean it, if you even so much as bat your eyelashes at her, I’m going to make sure that you can never use your dick again.”

“Are you coming on to me?” Eddie batted his eyelashes. That had only happened once and they both just decided that they were better off as friends. “Damn, Stevie. I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” Steve had felt that way about Eddie once upon a time, but not anymore. Especially not since Eddie started solely thinking with his dick.

“You’re disgusting,” Steve glared before turning back to the computer. “Now leave me alone.”

“Happy to.” Eddie rounded the desk and made a beeline to you. He had no intention of keeping Steve’s promise and seeing the look you gave him only made him want to flirt with you even more. He had to do what he could to get the sour look off of your face.

Unbeknownst to Eddie, you had heard his entire conversation with Steve, neither of them quite knowing what an “inside voice” was. It didn’t surprise you that Eddie would fuck anyone who was human, and it especially didn’t surprise you that most of them were clients. If you hadn’t already gone through the consultation, you would have walked right out of there.

Fat chance if he thought he was going to get with you, but you were going to have some fun with him first. You were going to knock him down a few pegs. It was what he deserved for having whoever he wanted just because he was famous in the tattoo industry.

“Hi,” he propped himself against the wall and you had to hold back a laugh at his flirting attempt. How could that have worked on anyone?

“Hi,” you nodded towards him then turned back to face the frames.

“I’m Eddie,” he put his hand out to shake and you reluctantly took it, not wanting to be rude to owner of the establishment no matter how much you wanted to tell him to fuck off.

“Y/n,” you replied and his smile got wider. You had to admit that it was really nice. You could see at least how that worked for him.

“Y/n,” he nodded, saying it slowly, focusing on each syllable as they fell from his lips. “That’s pretty.”

“Thanks.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here. And trust me, I’d remember someone as smokin’ as you.” That didn’t actually work on people, did it? That didn’t actually get him into people’s pants.

“If anyone’s smokin’ here, it’s you,” you winked and wondered how you could have submitted your name to the Academy to be nominated for an Oscar for your performance.

“So what brings you here, darlin’?” He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head to the side like a curious puppy. He almost looked adorable. Almost.

“I have an appointment with Gareth.” Of fucking course. Eddie took a vacation and now Gareth was getting all the pretty girls. Sometimes, life just wasn’t fair.

“Oh,” he nodded. “I can take you to him.”

“Okay, Edwin.” You walked ahead of him to head to wherever Gareth could have possibly been and Eddie took another opportunity to stare at your ass. The way your jeans clung to it. The way it moved when you walked. He needed to feel it, skin against skin. He just knew that it would have been soft. He desperately wanted to give it a little slap, but even he knew that wouldn’t have been appropriate. Even for him

“It’s Eddie,” he corrected and you didn’t bother to look back at him when you spoke.

“Sure, Eduardo.” He wasn’t used to women acting this way and he’d have been lying if he said he didn’t like it. He actually thought it was kind of hot.

He was right behind you when you stopped abruptly at Gareth’s station. Eddie had been so busy staring that ran right into you and had to grab onto your shoulders to stop the both of you from falling to the floor.

He let out a chuckle but you just ignored him, keeping your attention on Gareth. His face lit up when he saw you and he couldn’t help but smile as well. You hadn’t forgotten your flirty consultation and the way he looked at you from across the desk. Like he had wanted to take you right there and you would have let him.

You had imagined running your hands through his curly hair, pressing your lips to his roughly, sticking your tongue into his mouth. Hearing his moans when you touched him in just the right spots.

Eddie looked between the two of you and he didn’t like what he saw. The way you were smiling at each other, the flirty glint in your eyes. Whatever was going on had to be nipped right in the bud. If he couldn’t have you, no could. Not even Gareth. Especially not Gareth.

“Hey, cutie,” you greeted, resting your hands on his table and Gareth just blushed. He wasn’t used to getting attention from people, at least not romantically. And when you had showed up and openly flirted with him, he could have sworn it was a joke. But seeing you then, he realized that you hadn’t been joking at all.

“Hey,” he responded, a small smile forming on his lips. “How are you?”

“I’m great. And you?”

“I’m fantastic. Especially now that you’re here.” You giggled at his words, causing his blush to get pinker. Eddie watched the two of you for a bit longer then looked around the room for a trash can he could throw up in.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” You leaned closer and Eddie quickly turned away. No way in hell he was subjecting himself to seeing the two of you kiss.

“Well, I’m ready when you are,” Gareth smiled and sat down in his chair, rolling it closer to the bench.

“I’m ready now,” you nodded, sitting on the bench and Eddie took that as a sign to actually do his tasks that he had been putting off for far too long.

———

“Gareth,” you gasped as you looked at your fresh ink in the mirror. It was a Sting from Lord of the rings and it was exactly what you wanted. He was somehow able to get it exactly how you imagined it. “This is fucking amazing.”

“Really? You like it?” He had a sheepish smile on his face that you could see perfectly in the reflection. He was just so cute. And sweet. The complete opposite of the other guys you had been with. The complete opposite of Eddie.

“I love it.” You turned around to face him and before you could stop yourself, you were throwing yourself into his arms. They were quick to wrap around your waist tightly. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he smiled, making no move to let go of you. “I’m glad it was what you wanted.”

“It’s perfect. Really.” Gareth had never gotten that kind of reaction from one of his clients. They usually just thanked him and paid before leaving.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, pulling away from him. “That was totally inappropriate.”

“No,” he assured you. “It’s okay. I…liked it.”

“Well, good.”

“C‘mon,” he nodded his head towards the front of the shop. “Let’s get your care instructions.”

You followed him to the front desk where Steve was still typing away on the computer. Eddie was beside him, going through some envelopes. He looked up at you and Gareth and didn’t miss your close proximity, your shoulders touching. He supposed that if you ended up with anyone, it should have been Gareth. He would have treated you right and wouldn’t have just wanted to fuck you like Eddie did.

Eddie didn’t do relationships. He just liked to get laid and have no other connection to the people. That was the only way he could do it. Thinking about being romantic with someone made him feel gross. It made him want to laugh. He only had enough love in his life for his few friends and Wayne.

You didn’t do relationships either, but you felt like if you played your cards right, you’d be able to start something with Gareth. He was sweet and he liked you and you didn’t get that weird feeling in your gut when you were around him. That feeling that always told you that the person was bad news. And it was always right. Maybe Gareth would end up being the right guy for you. Or maybe he wouldn’t, but you were willing to find out.

“Well, let me see!” Steve exclaimed and you turned around, stepping closer to the desk. He leaned over it to get a better look, a wide smile spreading over his face. “That’s sick…what is it?”

“C’mon, Steve. It’s from Lord of the Rings,” Eddie replied.

“That’s what it’s from?” Gareth asked, turning to you. “I thought it was just a dagger.”

“It’s Sting. It was an Elven short-sword made in Gondolin during the First Age,” you told them.

“Bilbo discovered it in the year TA2941 in a Troll-hoard, and used it during the Quest of Erebor,” Eddie finished, a smirk forming on his lips. He had met many women who like Lord of the Rings and had even done a few tattoos, but he liked the fact that you were so passionate about it.

“God, you guys are such fucking nerds,” Steve scoffed. “How do you know that from memory?”

“How do you not?” You and Eddie asked in unison, causing you both to laugh.

“Alright,” Steve turned to you. “Your total is going to be-“

“Actually, it’s on the house, right Stevie?” Gareth asked and Steve just let out a sigh.

“Sure, I uh, I guess it’s on the house.” With how many times Eddie had done the same thing, the company had surely lost a lot of money, but Steve supposed he could make an exception. Gareth had been shot down so many times that Steve thought he at least deserved to let one girl get her tattoo for free.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you shook your head vigorously. You always wanted to make sure that people were getting paid properly for their work. Especially tattoo artists because that kind of thing took a lot of time and patience. “I think Gareth should be compensated for his hard work.”

“I can be compensated in other ways,” Gareth winked at you and Eddie feigned throwing up while Steve smiled. He was just happy that the guy was finally getting some attention. He always seemed to fade into the background when Eddie was around. People always seemed to care about him and Steve felt bad for Gareth. That he was always stuck in his best friend’s shadow. He hated it for him.

“Sounds like a plan,” you winked back. “Maybe I could repay you tonight.” Gareth liked that idea. He liked that idea a lot.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Eddie put his hand over his mouth and disappeared behind the door that was behind him.

“I’d like that,” Gareth nodded, stepping towards you, the two of you completely ignoring Eddie. He was just jealous that he wasn’t on the receiving end of the flirting this time. He was always a sore loser even though he frequently tried to deny it. He loved Gareth. Like a brother, even. But he couldn’t help but feel jealous that the guy was getting your attention. He didn’t know why, but the fact that you didn’t seem to be interested in him only made him want to try harder. He wanted to prove himself that he could get you into bed.

You grabbed a blank piece of paper and pen from the desk and scribbled down your phone number and address before handing it to him. He took it from you and quickly took his cell phone out of his pocket, quickly typing in the numbers and saving it under a cutesy nickname.

“So you’ll come over after you get done here?”

“I definitely will,” he nodded.

“Great,” you smiled and Gareth could have sworn that he was feeling his knees giving out. You then leaned closer to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, Emerson.”

After you were all set, you pulled Gareth into a lingering hug then exited the shop, the man watching you through the glass as you headed down the street. He had only had a few conversations with you and was already down bad. Why did he have to always fall so easily? He knew that you’d drop him for Eddie with one bat of his lashes so he didn’t even know why he was trying.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe you really did like him. Maybe this wasn’t all just an elaborate plan for you to get to Eddie like he had thought. He couldn’t even keep track of how many times that had happened to him and he was sick of it. What was wrong with him? Cleary something since he was never anyone’s first choice. But for once, he was yours. He was your first choice and he couldn’t have been more elated about it.

You got to your car and was shocked to find Eddie leaning against it. He was smoking a cigarette and you hated how you kind of found it hot. But only kind of. He was leaning against the driver’s seat door, preventing you from getting in it and he looked like he had no intention of leaving any time soon. He gave you his signature smile and you smiled back, not wanting to show just how much he was getting to you.

“So,” he spoke, blowing the smoke from his mouth and it wafted right into your face, causing you to cough. “You and Emerson, huh?” He used his cigarette to point to the building.

“Yes,” you nodded, waving the smoke away from your face. “But I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You crossed your arms over your chest, wondering why he cared so much. He could have anyone he wanted from what you had heard so you weren’t sure why he was so set on hitting on an almost taken woman.

“It’s my business because Gareth is my best friend and I’ll be damned if anyone hurts him.” He pushed off of the car and stood directly in front of you, attempting to look intimidating, but fell flat. You weren’t scared of anything, especially not Eddie Munson.

Eddie really didn’t care who Gareth spent his time with, especially not romantically, but you weren’t one of the soft, innocent looking girls that the guy usually went for. Eddie just wanted to make sure that you were good for him. And maybe the way of seeing whether or not that was true was sleeping with you, but that was going to take a lot more effort than usual. But Eddie always liked a challenge.

Usually, showing a woman just what she was missing after the initial shut down wasn’t a problem. He turned on the charm and was as nice as possible until he got what he wanted. He didn’t know why you wouldn’t just give in. He was sure that he could make you feel much more than Gareth ever could and he’d do it so much better. Gareth was less experienced than him and was seriously lacking in flirting skills so stealing you away would have been a breeze. It wouldn’t be long before you were racing into his arms, telling him that you had been wrong all along. And he couldn’t wait.

“If anyone’s hurting Gareth, it’s you,” you crossed your arms over your chest. Those words stung Eddie more than they should have, but he wasn’t going to show it. “You just can’t stand the fact that someone prefers him over you. Gareth is sweet and caring and guess what? He’s also much more of a man than you will ever be. So fuck off and go find someone else to screw with because it sure as hell won’t be me.” You pushed him out of the way and got into your car before pulling out of your parking space and heading down the road.

Eddie watched in shock as you drove away. No one had even spoken to him like that and he’d have been lying if he said that if didn’t make his dick hard. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t always been a pig. Once upon a time, he was actually a nice guy, but then he got just a sliver of fame in the tattoo industry and thought he could treat everyone any way he wanted. He had quickly become the kind of guy that he had usually despised and didn’t even care that his friends were getting tired of him.

It was like an addiction. He had slept with one person and then another and then another and it was like he couldn’t stop. Now he couldn’t go a couple weeks without having someone between his sheets. It was getting to the point that he didn’t even really enjoy it, but he was so desperate for attention that he’d take home anyone that he could just so he wouldn’t have to sleep by himself and be alone with his thoughts.

Eddie hung his head and reluctantly headed back inside. Gareth was still at the front desk and Eddie gave him a glare before heading to his office for some much needed alone time. He couldn’t let Gareth know that he had gotten to him. That would have just been embarrassing. Eddie thought that he was better than him in every way and didn’t like that he had gotten the girl for once. He had lost and hated the way the rejection felt. It was like a stab to the heart and he finally knew how his best friend had felt watching him leave with all of those different people. It was torture, but that still didn’t mean that he was just going to let him have you. He still had a point to prove, no matter what it took.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #tattoo artist!eddie #tattoo artist!eddie x reader #tattoo artist!eddie x tatoo artist!reader

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crazyk-imagine · 11 months

Text

Married Off to a Beast?! (Or Troll)

Pairing: King George x Fem!reader Characters: Charlotte, Fem!reader, King George, Adolphus (briefly mentioned) Warnings: A memoriable scene, fluff, Charlotte doesn’t approve of running away, George is a simp, Reader and George are enamored with each other, Charlotte is a hypocrite, George regrets nothing, reader knows she can’t resist him now, reader showing skin O:O Word Count: 1,356

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You walk back and forth in front of the wall. You take a deep breath and step closer. "Charlotte help me."

"No," she shakes her head, wanting little to no part in your escape.

You spin around to look at her, your body visible for anyone to see if they walk down this path to the garden. "Your brother married me off without my consent, you will help me."

She huffs, scratching the side of her head. Out of the two of them (her and her brother), she's always had a harder time saying no to you.

"Fine."

George watches as you call for her assistance and decides to walk further down. Neither of noticed him, not until he cleared his throat. “Hello, My Lady.”

You glance over your shoulder to find a charming man standing a few feet away.

He turns to your cousin. “My Lady.”

Her eye twitches, you know it did; you didn’t have to look at her to know. “Are you in need of assistance of some kind?”

“Uh, I am quite fine, thank you.” You return to your mission. “You can go back inside and wait with all the other gawkers.”

Charlotte whispers your name. She understands your feelings about the situation but there is a better way to address someone.

"I… will. What are you doing?"

You huff, “nothing.”

“You’re doing something.”

You internally groan, not wanting to berate some man for something he had no control over. “I am not.”

“You are.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“I am not.”

“You are!”

You jump down from your place and spin around to face him. "If you must know, I am being shipped off into a marriage I did not give my consent to and one I had no prior knowledge of, therefore I am leaving before it can happen."

"Oh," his brows shot up in surprise.

“Yes, so I am currently trying to find the best way to climb over this damned garden wall so that I may live my life the way I choose to.”

He mutters a few things, trying to understand this new information he’s been given. “Whatever for?”

"For the love of-" She mutters, hearing the wheels turning in your head.

"I believe he may be a beast.”

"He isn't," she assures you.

"How do you know? I mean, do you know what he looks like?"

She rolls her eyes, knowing you’ve been on edge since... well, since you were informed of your future role.

“You think he is a beast?”

“Or a troll.”

“Uh, who are we discussing.”

You furrow your brows, “no one who concerns you.” You study the wall, sighing to yourself. “The King. Only because no one will speak of him. No one. So, he can only be a beast or a troll if that’s the case.”

“Understood.”

Charlotte shakes her head, lowering it so George doesn’t see the disappointment on her face.

“If I grab there,” you point to an ideal spot. “You can assist me by lifting me up.”

“One question. You do not like beasts or trolls? What he looks like matters?”

You shrug, “I do not care what he looks like. I care about my sanity… and the not knowing. That, that is what I do not like. I do not like the not knowing. Now come here and help me.” You gesture for him to come closer. “She will not help me. You grab here,” you hold your waist, “and lift me.”

“You want me to lift you over the wall so you may escape?”

“That is what I said, is it not.”

You shake your head, mumbling to yourself, “it’s as if he isn’t listening.”

“Won’t people notice you are missing?”

“Her brother will make her take my place, I’m sure.”

“What?” Charlotte nearly screeches.

“I have little care to worry about that. Now, if you please. I just need a little assistance from a more cooperative audience. Make haste.”

“I have absolutely no intention of helping you.”

You’re baffled. You step off the wall and march towards him. “Do you not see I am a lady in distress. You refuse to help me? Again, a lady in distress.”

“I refuse when that lady in distress is trying to go over a wall so that she does not have to marry someone I think you'll find rather appealing."

You furrow your brows, "and why's that?"

"Because I am... his majesty."

You take a step back, realizing the many errors you’ve made leading up to now.

“Hello,” he says your name.

"Oh, no," your cousin mutters. She takes a step closer, pulling you towards her. "Be quiet and bow."

You start to apologize. “I am deeply s…”

And then your training (from when you were a young girl) kicks in and you bow, "My King."

"No, no. Just George."

"Your majesty."

"Not your majesty, George."

"Your-"

Your cousin rolls her eyes and sneaks away (not wanting to listen to you two anymore). She’s off to find her brother. Not to mention the fact that she needs to hide from her betrothed as well… which explains why she willingly followed you.

"George."

"You-"

"George."

"Y-"

"George."

"Your-"

"I mean, yes your majesty to you, just George… For you, I will be your George, I like that," he smiles.

“I- I need you to accept my apology. You see, if I had known-”

“You would have what? Not told me you were trying to escape?”

“Yes- wait no, I mean…” You huff, “I do apologize your majesty.”

“George… Your George. The “King” situation towers over us and I was hoping as my wife, I could be just George to you. I mean, that was of course, before I found out that you do not want to be married to me.”

You furrow your brows, “I did not say that.”

“You did.”

“No.”

“Many times, in fact.”

You purse your lips in anger, knowing he’s right. “I do not know you.”

He raises his arms, “I do not know you either… other than finding out… how terrible you are at climbing a wall.”

You scoff, “you try climbing in this,” you wave to your outfit and lift the skirts of your dress, showing him your ankles. “These garments and shoes. They’re terrible, but if I don’t want to hurt myself, I must.”

His constant stare worries you.

“What?”

“I- No one told me you’d be this beautiful. Perhaps, you’re too beautiful to marry me. People will talk… given I’m a troll.”

“I believe I said beast.”

He chuckles.

Your face twists as if you’re in pain but only thinking of your future marriage. “Your majesty.”

“George.”

“George. I- I still do not know you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“Ev- fine.” He gives you information to help ease you into knowing more about him and potentially help your future marriage.

“It sounds like you’re bragging.”

He chuckles, “another to know about me is that… I am- well, nervous about marrying a girl I’m only just meeting minutes before our wedding. Only, I cannot show it and climb over a wall because I am the king of Britian and Ireland and that would, cause a scandal. But I promise you, I am neither a troll, nor a beast. Just your George.”

The corners of your lips twitch.

Charlotte’s voice interrupts you two. “My brother is on his way, so we must leave now.”

“I-”

“I have one question.”

“Yes?”

“Have you decided whether you wish to marry me? Or would you prefer to go over the wall?”

You gulp.

“As much as I would love to hear your answer, I have to go because I believe there are some anxious guards who think I’ve been kidnapped.” He grabs your hand and whispers your name as he places a kiss upon it. “I hope to see you in there.”

You watch as he walks away. “Have you decided? Because there will be a scandal one way or another.”

“I-” you take a deep breath. “Come with me, you impatient brat.”

“I am not a brat.”

“You are.”

“Am not.”

#Bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #queen charlotte #queen charlotte fanfiction #queen charlotte fanfic #king george bridgerton #king george #king george x reader #king george fanfic #king george fanfiction #king george x you #king george fic #king george bridgerton fanfic #king george bridgerton fanfiction #king george bridgerton fic #king george bridgerton x reader #king george bridgerton x you #crazyk-imagine

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writingoddess1125 · 8 months

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could do buggy x reader, where we are apart of his crew and does aerial hoop? And act like we hate him but actually we have a crush on him so it’s like angst to fluff! Sorry if it’s to much

I gotcha! This seems really fun! I ended up taking this way too far BTW Sorry!

Chef Kiss Enjoy~

Buggy X FemReader

Solo Act

"Two months- That asshole" you grumbled as you ate another bite of your breakfast. A few peers sighing at you and just shaking their head. "What did you even do? I never heard of Buggy benching someone for so long- Hell wont even let you do lights!" Suki one of the contortionist said with a humored voice, chuckling at your faux glare.

"No idea-" You lied, However knew exactly what brought on the change. Two months ago during a drunken party hosted by the Captian. The two of you having always been flirty to some degree but after some rum the flirting increased, ending up with you and Buggy laying in his bed. Giggling and kissing on each other, while it was foggy you remember Buggy and you stripping each other down to take that extra- Then he just stopped. Pulling away from your kisses and climbing out of the bed with you, Grabbing his clothes and just leaving the room and you behind. You laid there, half naked in his bed embarrassed by the having just been left like that-

The next day he acted like nothing happened, playing it off that he was so drunk he fell asleep in the hallway but you knew the truth. You felt both humilated and angry he had just ditched you- not even explaining himself... You truly did like him.. But also loathed him- Now feeling damn angry after being benched so long too!

"That's it! I'm gonna talk to him!" You proclaim, Standing up angrily and marching from the mess hall. Knowing he would be in his office most likely talking about the upcoming show. A few of the other pirates making 'Oooh' Noises and like jabs as you marched.

Walking to Buggy's office you see he had the door open, Drinking a pint (at 8 in the morning like a asshole) and talking to Cabaji. The plans got the show laid out on his desk.

You look at Buggy and swallow the lump in your throat. Stepping forward and clearing your throat, Buggy looking up from his work and raising a brow at you. His ocean eyes racking your form like he expected something in particular.

"Yes (Y/N)?- You can see that we are busy pre-"

"I want to do a show- A proper one Captain.. I have been practicing and I want to do the Aerial Loop again" You blurt out, Your nerves getting the best of you. Unsure why you felt so nervous about this.

Buggy set down his cup, his eyes staring practically through you, There was a few moments of silence before Buggy bursted into laughter, Slapping his hand on the table like this was some grand joke. You couldn't help but feel some genuine anger rising in your chest ready to risk it all in throwing your own little bitch fit at Buggy-

"Fine, Ill give you your very own Solo Act in tomorrows show" You cut you off. Cabaji jaw nearly in the floor at hearing this.. Buggy never gave ANYONE a solo act, daring to give anyone a chance at a lone light so this was beyond unusual. You felt both excited and a bit scared at the same time, especially with how his eyes seemed to gleam with mischief.

"I.. Thank you Captain" You manage to mumble out, Buggy standing to his full height and peering down at you. Heart blooming on your face as you could feel the warmth of his body with how close he was to you.

"Best not disappoint me (Y/N)" He said softly, patting your head like you were some pet and walked put of his office. Leaving Cabaji and you in his office, the green haired man looking at you.

"You must have a magic mouth or great in bed for him to let you get so many damn privileges-"

He said with a almost jealous glare. You shoot one right back, giving him am angry sneer.

"I've never slept with the Captian or done anything like that- He usually hates me" You protest. Cabaji an amused huff as he walled past you. "I've seen the Captian hate people- That's clearly not how he feels about you" He resorted and dismissed himself. You following suit shortly after.. Spending the rest of the day a bit confused and just trying to prep for your show.

That evening while setting out everything you'd need for the solo act you heard a knock and the door open. Whipping around to see Cabaji, a almost amused look on his face and holding a box.

"Ever heard of waiting till someone says 'Enter'?" You ask annoyed, crossing your arms as Cabaji holds the brightly colored box out to you.

"Doesnt matter- Captain sent me to bring you this. You have to wear this tomorrow for the show. No questions" You raise a brow and take the box from him gently opening it, pulling out what at first you thought must have been a scarf or something- till the realization git you this was a leotard- a sparkly leotard. Peering down at the costume you felt your cheeks warm. It was a pale blue color, with diamond and silver studs decorating the front while the back was completely white mesh. Lace decorated the neckline that dipped rather low on it as well- While it was pretty and far too flash for your taste, the revealing aspect is what caught your attention more.

"He also wants to add this-" Cabaji said as he held out a ankle bracelet. It was silver as well studded with diamonds and a silver bell attached to the side.

"Cabaji I can't wear something like this- It's too revealing!" You protested and blushed, holding the thin leodard tightly in your fist. "Listen you got to, If you don't then you don't perform" Cabaji said, Smirking at your delema and leaving your room. It taking everything in your body to keep from punching him in the nose-It seemed Buggy had you by the balls.

The next day everyone was on high alert- like everytime. The whole ship was buzzing in anticipation, both to raid the for the performance later on. You stood to the side and watched as the village that the crew had landed and the fires that stretched out- Truthfully you never liked the methods that Buggy used however you could never voice that.

In a few short hours the Audience was set and chained to their seats. Cabaji acting as a director or sorts began to call out different acts as Buggy walked through his group of freaks. Yelling at each of them in wanting to be punctual and ready to not mess up this show- However when he turned to you he froze. His eyes staying only on your face, which made you feel a bit worried.

"...You look good (Y/N)" He said almost awkwardly- not even giving a dirty joke or openly gawking at you. Instead he quickly walked past you- you could have sworn you saw the tips of his ears red.

"Alright everyone show time!" He yelled out

Standing there you watch as act after act went before you. The audience clapping on cue, the transitioning of acts. Anxiety building inside of you as you were prepared to be blown off and not get the spot you were promised- the humiliation starting to hit you as you felt the show start to come to an end.

"And for our final act! A aerial performance! By our very own (Y/N)~" Buggy announcer, Smiling at the audience.

Stepping forward you glanced at Buggy, seeing him taking a seat in his throne, Leaned back with a amused look as you. The bastard seemed to be taking pleasure in this it seemed- That was evident by the costume he had placed you in.

Taking a breath you heard the slow music start, dancing out onto the main performing area you twirled gracefully grabbing the hoop with one hand and lifted yourself up. The breeze from the leotard reminding you of its thinness and smallness over your form, that and the eyes of Buggy who seemed to be watching every move of yours.

The audience having genuine interest in your performance as you twisted your body to the rhythm of the music. Feeling the music course through your body as you twirled through the hoop, picking your body up and spreading your legs in a upside-down split as your body began to spin quickly. Truthfully your mind lost in the feeling of your art, the interest of the audience. Thinking back to the night you should have shared with your Captian- The kisses that he placed up your neck, The feeling of his firm hands up your form and the taste of rum on his lips.

It wasn't until the music came to its dramatic end did you snap from your thoughts, Doing a incredibly fast turn and spinning tk the end of the song. Once coming to a stand still there was a brief silence, But it was Buggy's face you saw all to clearly. How his eyes stared at you like he could see past your leotard, like he wanted to rip it apart then and there. But the audience applauds snapped you from his gaze, Buggy standing up from his throne as he smiled at the Audience. You bowing to the group before practically running away- you could hear people congratulating you for the performance and the sound of Buggy talking to his imprisoned audience but you couldnt make out any words. Rushing to the dressing room quarters, Slamming the door behind you and sighing. Trying to throw out the image that had burned in your brain, but no matter what you did you saw his face- anger rising in you.

"God Damn it!" You yelled, kicking over a random basket and sulking to a chair infront of the vanity. Looking at yourself as you started the long process of removing your makeup, Ignoring the sound of your crew going about most likely to drink. Sighing as you took off your earrings and heard a knock on the door.

"I'm in here-" You called, hearing the door then open and someone step inside. In the reflection you Saw Buggy, Staring at you with a hint if a smirk.

"I know.. Just wanted to stop by and say you did good tonight" He said a bit forcibly, tapping his boot on the wood flooring.

"Thanks.." You say softly, Your tone colder then you ment. Still conflicted over what you saw out there, How he stared at you- How his gaze longingly followed you from up there. Pulling you from your thoughts you felt Buggy angrily pull your seat out so you faced him.

"What the hell is your problem? I gave you the spotlight like you fucking wanted- Having your little moment. Why are you daring to speak to me this way?" He hissed, inches from your face. That liquid courage from before or just the final straw but you snapped, Standing up and locking eyes with him.

"I didn't want the spotlight I- I just want to know why youre doing this? Are you trying to hurt me? Does it make you happy or something?"

"(Y/N) I am many things- I will harass you, Embarrass you, Hell ill Fuck with you- But id never Never hurt you" He emphasized. His eyes staring hard at you, you could see it.. A flash of hurt that you would assume that of him. Biting your lip you stare at him. "Then why did you never mention that night?" You hissed, still feeling a bit of anger from him not mentioning that evening you two shared together. Buggy pulled back and gave you a annoyed look.

"Why bring that up-"

"Because you just kissed and left me! didn't even acknowledge what had happened! Left me fucking naked in your bed like something was wrong with me!" You stomped your foot, ignoring the chime of the ankle bracelet still on you.

"What do you want me to say (Y/N)! Congratulations we kissed!? That we were drunk!" He threw his hands up dramatically, You scoffing in anger and disgust. "That you cared! Instead of just messing with my feelings you bastard!" Buggy eyes locked onto you, Hard.

"Watch it- I Let you get away with a lot of things.. But i am still your Capitan!" He said pointedly, his hand snatching your face rather harshly as that same anger he showed others finally fell onto you- For only a second did you feel fear- That those knives of his would come out. But it quickly evaporated from your body as you yanked his hand from your face.

"Oh- SO You where just messing with my feelings Captain? Just rewarding me for kissing you? That's it!?" You scream, feeling hot tears well in your eyes as you stare at him enraged.

"What did you expect me to think! That you wouldnt regret sleeping with me! That you wouldnt have woken up the next morning disgusted and embarrassed you slept the night with me!? That You'd actually like me!?" He yelled, his fist balled in anger.

"Yes! I do like you! And I would have loved to have sex with you!" You screamed back, Both of you froze at this. Buggy face turning red as did yours. The anger seemed to sap away from the room, Both of you just standing there in shock and out of breath from yelling. Buggy being the first to move as he took off his hat and ran a shaky hand over the bandana like he was fixing some invisible imperfections.

"...Truly?" His voice all but whispered, a sort of desperate tone to him as well. You felt yourself deflate at his tone, your eyes feeling hot wit tears before looking to him again.

"Of course Buggy... I always have-" Not even able to finish the thought Buggy rushed to you and crashed his lips against yours, desperate needy lips meeting meeting your own which you gladly returned. His hands cupping your face as your own rushed through his hair tangling the blue locks between your fingers, the force of the brutal kiss leaving you breathless and just as desperate. Having longed for his touch, his taste just everything about him. Pulling away briefly to catch your breath as your lungs felt like they were on fire.

Buggy eyes locked onto you as you blushed deeply, your hands pulling the bandana from his head and letting his blue locks fall and frame his face. He leaned forward and bit your bottom lip gently, tugging a noise of pleasure from you.

"B-Buggy what does this make us?-" You start but Buggy kisses your lips once more. Pulling away for only a moment to wrap his hands around your waist and pick you up, Forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

"Simple- The place we should have been months ago.. Where you always belonged. By my side" You couldn't help but give a goofy smile at his words. That's exactly what you needed to hear.

#x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy one piece #one piece #one piece x reader #buggy the clown

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isa-belle1367 · 18 days

Text

More desmond headcanons bc my blorb is scurrying around my head and won't leave.

Desmond develops chronic migraines from the animus like the really bad kind. The ones where you pass out and wake up in Pain™️

Desmond is weirdly good at singing, but he never tells anyone, and most of the time, when he sings around others, he does it ironically, so one day he is just humming a song and everyone is like "WTF YOU CAN SING?"

Des starts picking up odd habits from his ancestors, such as refusing to step into a room with his left foot (edward) or running his tongue along his scar.

He 100% blames himself for not getting clay out of the animus

Is creepily flexible, like to a concerning degree.

He strikes me as a language nerd he def has duolingo, and even before the animus, he knew like 15 different languages

He climbs walls (yes, I was a wall climber as a kid, yes I am projecting rn)

ADHD DESMOND

He once got a 70 year old bottle of whiskey from a "friend" from the bar, and he absolutely shows it off every chance he gets.

He has connections to gangs and has gone on bike rides with them.

He can't do basic math to save his life if someone puts a multiplication problem in front of him, he short circuits.

He starts getting really bad nose bleeds from the animus, scares the crap out of everyone.

Definitely knows how to flirt like FLIRT can turn the straightest of men gay for a night if need be. It just gets worse after going through ezios' memories.

Has a list of really weird talents but can't do basic tasks like, yeah, you can dislocate your shoulder and pop it back into place, but can you cook eggs without burning them🤨

Terrible at cooking (95% sure his food is banned under the Geneva Conventions)

Can't walk in a straight line he is the friend who bumps into 1000 times a minute while walking down the side walk.

He is weirdly silent, like even before the animus thing, he is always weirdly quiet like silent footsteps can't hear his breathing etc. He dosent mean to it just happens

The only training that really stuck from the farm was the stealth training it was also his favorite subject to work on he probably hated hand to hand combat.

He has never filed taxes a day in his life, but the IRS could never track him down. He honestly doesn't even know he supposed to be paying them. The IRS has a meltdown over this.

Ok, I think this was enough to satisfy the itch in my brain. I'm gonna go to bed, know I might post a one-shot about the IRS one tomorrow. Idk

#assassin's creed #desmond miles #head canons #i personally would like to point out the taxes one #lucy mentions them #and hes like “who?”#and shes like “have you never paid taxes??”#and he is just so confused like “wtf are taxes?”#everyone loses their mind over this

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strangelysamantha · 1 year

Text

scars ☆

jj maybank x fem!reader.

warnings: abuse, bruises, the nickname baby is used, talk of sadness and depression and not being happy with life.

words: 1,088.

summary: jj comes to you after a blow out with his father. you clean his bruises as well as clean his awful mindset he has on life.

request? no.

a/n: hi. i’m back from the dead hello. i got a lot of stories planned.

my masterlist

——————————————————————————

you hear light taps from your window. you lift from your bed to crack it open. you weren’t expecting to see jj today. he climbs in and immediately settles onto your bed. he flops down dramatically and you can’t help but giggle from the theatrics. “hi jj” you coo softly. “hi baby” his response is quiet. your room is lit by a small lamp, you can’t even make out jjs features so you close the window, and intend to turn the light on. jj grabs your arm however, and you halt.

“can you just lay with me for a second?” his tone tings at your heart and you can tell something is wrong. “yea, of course jj. anything.” you hop into the bed, and immediately cradle at his side. he’s laying on his back. “do you want me to sit on top, or do you want to spoon?” you question. he hesitated. “you can cuddle me however you’d like baby. i’ll enjoy it all the same.” you nod. his mood seemed off, as well as his tone. you didn’t want to rush into it and upset him, but you did want to get to the bottom of it. you choose to spoon him, this moment feeling intimate and full of love. you place your hand on his heart; it beating rapidly.

you cup his face, you feel tears as well as a slight pulse in his eye. you stand up quickly, running to the light switch. when you turn around, his face is bloody and bruised. your heart sinks and you feel a pain that’s so indescribable but completely deadly. your lips are flat lined and a huge range of emotions release. you shake your head, a tear already threatening to spill. he’s silent, and avoids eye contact. you’ve been here before, never this bad. nonetheless, you have a routine.

you go to your bathroom. you grab the first aid kit, wet a cloth, and grab everything you need to stitch him up. you walk back and sit on the bed, your back to the wall. he, like a hurt puppy, follows every instruction you give. “come here jj, let me help you.” he hates when you see him like this, but he doesn’t have anyone else who would do what you do. if he did go to anyone else, he wouldn’t feel great forcing his trauma on others. “what happened baby? who hurt you?” your words are soft and you want nothing more than to cradle him and take his sorrows away.

“my father. who would have guessed? i’ll be alright. i’ll walk it off.” you investigate his wrist for any damage, you don’t see any, so you give it a flick. “no that’s not how it works jj, and you know it.” he frowns, “i wish it was.” you give him reassuring rubs on his back. he’s sitting up, and facing you. his hands rest on your knees, and he anxiously rubbing them. “i know baby, i wish these moments didn’t impact us, but they do. and we learn to take it in, and let it go.” you dab the wash cloth on his face, to get the dried blood. “did you walk here?” you question. “more like ran.”

you sigh, you reach for his tank top, urging to pull it off. he complies easily letting you swipe it off his back. his chest isn’t bad, mainly his face that held a black eye and cuts, from his fathers ring. “how you feeling?” you continue the routine of fixing him up. you’ve gotten good at it. he hums, before starting. “you say you always want me to be honest?” you nod, “yes. i want you to be fully honest with me.”

“well. honestly? i’m not doing great. i don’t want to put this all on you but i just, i don’t know why i’m here?” you question him, “why you’re here?” he continues, “why am i forced to live dealing with an abusive father, being broke, having everyone against me?” he breathes deeply, his emotions overcoming him, “no matter what i do, i loose.” you hate seeing him like this. “jj, please. i love you so much. and i don’t want to loose you. i know it’s hard. it’s so heartbreaking to see you in this condition. physically, mentally, it does damage. i can’t ever know what it’s like to be in your shoes.” you pull him into a hug and he squeezes you tight.

“please.. stay strong for me. i need you to come to me if you ever feel this way. talk about it, write it, scream it, all of the above. i want you to have an outlet to let these emotions out so they don’t consume you.” he pulls you in for a passionate kiss filled with love. tears are streaming down both yours, and jjs face. you struggle to suppress the whimpers coming from you. “can you promise you’ll come to me if you ever feel that way?” he nods, “i promise.” you close your eyes and lean your head into his chest. “i love you so much. seeing you like this hurts. but i’d rather see you like this, then never see you at all.” those words hurt him, gave him the realization that if anything happened to him, it would hurt you worse. this thought clouded his mind. his wounds were all patched up. you went downstairs to get a few ice bags. you came up and positioned them on his bruises. you turned the big light on and retreated to the small lamp. he thanked you for the ice bags, and you turned your tv on.

“your choice for tv, what would you like to watch?” you question. he thinks for a second before softly reaching for the remote and turning his show on. you cuddle him close, occasionally kissing his neck and whispering how much you love and appreciate him. not even half way through the episode do you hear tiny snores coming from him. you laugh slightly to yourself; pausing the show. you get ready for bed, despite his condition, you know you’re going to sleep well, and comfortably. you remove the ice bags, dumping them in the sink, and placing the plastic baggies on the counter. you dry your hands and return to the bed with him, engulfing the two of you with a blanket. you smoothly cuddle against him, sure to not wake him, up, as you prepare to dream soundly next to him.

#jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank #outer banks #outer banks fanfic #outer banks imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x reader angst #jj maybank x you #jj maybank story #jj maybank angst #jj maybank imagine

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moon-huny · 7 months

Text

Stole the Moon - Chapter Three

CW: My content is not for anyone under 18. Major language in this one ya'll. Also, smut towards the end. Some she/her pronouns used for reader in this one, and implied afab physicality. Oh, and masturbation. Kidnapping, coercion, imprisonment.

Word Count: 4.1K

Summary: After being treated to a day of R&R, you and Buggy sit down for dinner.

A/N: So, I am like 15 mins late with this one. But look at the word count, now that's content baby! I worked kinda hard on it, so I hope ya'll like. I have never written smut before and it was a challenge. Lmk how I did. I feel confident that ya'll will like it, but you never know. Constructive criticism is for bad bitches so have at it!

There are some OC characters in this chapter. I know OCs can be a bit hit or miss. Do ya'll like em? Should I continue to include them? Don't be afraid to tell me what you think. I am only married to a few ideas in this series that I know have to happen, otherwise I welcome ya'lls ideas.

Oh! and happy kinktober. Okay, that's all, enjoy.

masterlist ✧˖°

previous • next

The moment Buggy shut the door the two young women were circling you like vultures. They pulled at your dress and snickered to themselves. The red-haired girl tugged at the ends of your hair and giggled.

“What exactly does captain –” she said.

“Expect us to do with you?” the raven-haired girl finished.

They dressed alike, finished one another's sentences, the way they took up space in a room together read as though they had known each other for a long time.

“I take it your sisters?” You said, hoping to perhaps gain an understanding of their relationship.

They both laughed at your question.

“You hear that, Lettie?” questioned the fairer one.

“Marie, she thinks we’re sisters.” replied the other woman whose skin was steeped in golden tones.

Being in the same room as them felt like suffocation. As though they spoke a language you didn’t and breathed in air from an atmosphere you could only dream of.

“Come on,” they both said in unison and began to make their way out of Buggy’s quarters. If you thought that understanding them was a challenge, keeping pace with them was just as difficult.

Exiting through the ornate double doors, the sun had risen much further in the sky than you’d expected. Nearly at its peak, you enjoyed the warmth it provided and would have basked in it all day if given the chance. However, your escorts were making their way back down towards the lower decks of the ship at a quick pace.

As you hurried across the deck of the ship to follow, you took a moment to scan your surroundings. Looking around the deck of the ship, crew mates in various theatrical themed garb milled about. Looking up toward the starboard quarter, you noticed the captain with two other men – one of whom was the swordsman who freed you from your cage earlier that morning.

They seemed to be pouring over a map – the map. He could feel you staring at him. Buggy looked up from the paper he and the two others were arguing over. A slight smirk pulled across his red painted lips.

Deciding your eye contact lasted long enough, you turned back around to follow behind the strange duo, climbing down into the lower decks after them.

The two women walked hand in hand down the tight corridors. As you passed the turn that would have taken you back to your prison, you just nearly stopped, looked down through the unlit tunnel, and continued on your way.

Upon reaching the destination, the two stood on either side of a thick purple curtain along the tight hallway. The dark haired woman peeled back the heavy fabric and ushered you into the room. In the center was a beautiful, if not marginally damaged, claw foot tub. Glass bottles of every shade lined the walls, stained glass lanterns were the only light source.

“It’s getting cold,” they both said and gestured to the tub. The basin was full of steaming water that smelled of rosemary and mint. You gently pushed past them and floated into the room awestruck by the idea that such a place existed down the hall from your own personal hell.

“We’ll be back soon,” they said in a sing-song tone as they slowly closed the curtain behind you.

///

It is difficult to clock how long you spent pampering yourself in the bath. Even after the water went from scalding to cool, you couldn’t help but mindlessly float and get cozy in the water.

Your thoughts continually slipped back to your captor. His eyes had regarded you with such gentleness earlier but his smile told you he still wasn’t one to be trusted … but those eyes. The way they drank all of you in as though he could never get enough.

You reached up to wrap your hands around your neck feeling the necklace there. His touch could be bruising, painful, enough to make you squirm. But now, knowing he could be so light, and teasing. You closed your eyes attempting to recall the way he gently brushed your skin when he hooked the jewelry around you. You could imagine what that touch would be like lower, and lower, and … you caught yourself. You promptly removed your hands from your body and gripping each side of the tub.

These thoughts you had for him were nothing but frustrations. To act on them would send you down a rabbit hole you might never crawl back out of. Stopping now was for your own good.

Just as you were leaning back to submerge yourself in the water, an anxiety welled up in your chest, as though a weight were all of a sudden being slowly lowered onto you. A memory began creeping its way back into your mind.

Waves. Terror. Screaming. Fear.

Eleven years old and drowning. The unforgiving sea pulled your small body through its currents. You didn’t know which way was up or down. Your lack of direction caused you to flail about in the surf attempting to reach out a hand and touch the precious air instead of more water.

You couldn’t see anything but the physical memory was there. The feeling of the sandbars scraping your skin as you were unforgivingly cast against them. It was then you remembered reaching out your hand and feeling hair. Then a hand. An arm. A face. Someone was next to you in the water, but they weren’t moving.

All of a sudden you felt another person wrap their arms around you. A very strong and living presence carried you out of the churn and you remember feeling air hit your lungs as you –

Gasped out loud. Finally coming up for air from just underneath the waterline of the tub. The two women were pulling you up and out by your wrists.

“Oh my god, what –”

“In the east blue were –”

“You thinking!”

As you panted for air and cleared the water from your face, you couldn’t tell which one was speaking.

“We leave you alone for one hour –”

“And you try to drown yourself in a three foot tub!”

///

“So you aren’t related?” You said, feeling a bit embarrassed that you had to repeat the question.

You were wrapped in a satin robe provided to you by Marie from her “personal favorites” closet. A gesture that seemed kind at first only until you realized that Lettie had ripped a hole through her copy of the red lacy loungewear and now neither of the women could wear it for fear they wouldn’t match.

“You dress so similar, all the way down to makeup and hair,” you continue.

“We’re acrobats,” they said.

Lettie continued, “at first, it was all just a part of our act.”

“But we decided that we liked being as close as possible at all times,” finished Marie. Her ocean blue eyes shone into Lettie’s golden amber pair.

“Even if that means inhabiting the same dress to feel truly synced,” replied Lettie.

Marie was curled up in her lap. The two women couldn’t keep their hands off of one another now that they were seated in the close quarters of their cabin. The space was small yet, crammed with stuff they’d collected. The queen-sized hammock they let you lie on swung on one side of the room. They were sprawled out on a beautiful yellow loveseat across from you.

Clothing was tossed around the room in various locations. Corsets, garters, stockings and dresses all poked out from trunks and drawers. An ornate gold mirror adorned the wall, a sack full of makeup products was tossed to the side underneath it.

“You must really love each other,” you said, feeling a pang of loneliness in your chest. You had curled up with a pillow on the surprisingly comfortable suspended cotton.

“We didn’t at first,” said Marie. “In fact, we hated one another.”

“Marie!” cried Lettie.

So it seems they weren’t always on the same page. At least not enough to always know what the other one was thinking.

“We were … competitive,” said Lettie. “I simply could not stand the fact that she was so talented when she joined the circus. She was outstanding and I hated being upstaged by her.”

“And I couldn’t stand the meat head you had drooling over you all the time,” said Marie. “It really ticked me off. If I ever upstaged you, my love, it was because I knew I had to compete for your affections.”

“There was no competition,” said Lettie. “Once Xander caught on to that, and I realized that I loved you and only you, he was toast.”

Clearly reminiscing on their past was pulling them into their own orbit making them quickly forget your presence.

“So, what happened?” you asked, pulling them from whatever intimate moment they were about to share.

“I killed her fiance – who happened to be the ring leader's son,” said Marie.

“We agreed to live the rest of our lives as pirates on the run,” finished Lettie.

The way they held one another, the words they so sweetly exchanged made your heart ache. As they slowly added more details to their love story, it made you yearn for a partnership so full of passion and affection.

///

Marie and Lettie continued to share stories of their adventures far into the afternoon as they dug through trunks, barrels, drawers, suitcases and bags attempting to find something for you to wear.

Finally they found a suitable dress for the evening meal you were preparing to sit for. The fabric fell around you perfectly, a short and very lacy white dress with wide flowing sleeves. They threw you a pair of dark red suede boots that climbed up your legs to your mid thigh. The beautiful moonstone still sat proudly on your chest.

Maire took it upon herself to tend to your hair and Lettie made herself comfortable in front of you to do your makeup. Nothing too crazy, just enough to hide the exhaustion that couldn't be whipped away in the bath.

“Your hair is so pretty,” said Marie as she worked her way through the ornate hairdo. “Like a mermaid.”

Lettie’s eyes shot up toward her partner, a look of warning and one you certainly couldn’t ignore.

“I- I just mean that …” stuttered Marie under her lover's hardened gaze.

As if on cue, Lettie swooped in, “she means that you have very beautiful features, like those legendary beasts. But thank goodness those terrible despicable things have long since died out.”

“Yes! Yes. That is exactly right, my darling. Look! I’m all done!” Marie ran up to the table and grabbed a small vanity mirror to show you the brilliant job she did.

“And I’m done as well so it would be best if you start heading up towards the kitchen, yes?” said Lettie.

“You won’t come with me?”

“Sorry dear we –”

“Have a few things to attend to,” they said, ushering you out of the room.

They waved at you from their room as you made your way back down the hallway.

Once you were out of earshot, Lettie could feel that Marie had something to say.

“What is it?”

“I can't help but feel like we’re sending her into the mouth of a predator.”

Lettie sighed and made her way back into the cabin, “it’s just the way he wants it done, Marie, I am not going to interfere.”

“Really? We already touched her, we weren't supposed to do that, remember?”

Lettie sighed, she knew the red haired girl was right.

“I know, my love, I know,” said Lettie. “But telling her? Hinting? Leading in such a way as to help her remember her past? That’s too risky.”

Marie was shutting her out, crossing her arms and looking out the door after you. Lettie floated over to her partner, she cupped the other woman’s pale white hands in her own warm brown ones.

“I love you,” she continued. “We worked so hard to find this crew, to escape our old life.”

“I’ve killed for you,” replied Marie. “If I followed every rule, you would have been bed and wed to that loathsome strongman and I wouldn’t be holding you every night.”

“I think we’ve done enough, Marie.”

“And I know you don’t think that’s true.”

///

Entering the kitchen, a beautifully carved table was set with dozens of bronze candle holders each cradling a different colored stick of wax. The soft glow of all the tiny flames kept the center of the space well lit while the rest of the kitchen faded into darkness.

All of a sudden, you heard the door slam shut behind you. Jumping at the sound, you turned around to see a hand pushed flat against the heavy door.

“You kept me waiting.”

Turning back around you saw the pirate captain leaning back in his chair, his feet crossed and kicked up at one end of the table. He was studying a goblet of wine before taking a sip from the decorated cup. His disconnected appendage floated past you and connected itself back to its rightful location.

“Patience is a virtue,” you reply calmly.

You were starving, the food laid out on the table looked too good to be true. Fruits and fish and rice and all the things your empty stomach groaned for.

“Well, it isn’t all bad if it means my acrobats take the time to make you look like that,” he flirted back.

Clearly the dress was doing wonders for you. You caught him gazing at the length of your legs and the small expanse of your exposed thigh right were the lace of your dress and the tops of your boots left just enough to the imagination.

“Hungry?” he questioned. “Cause I’m starving.”

You made your way to stand by the smug man. His eyes drunk you in as you approached him. Placing both your hands on the table next to him, you began your line of questioning.

“I need to know what you want from me,” you demanded.

“Oh honey, what don’t I want?”

“Cut the shit, clown,” you bit back. “The map you showed me four days ago. What’s it to and why did you need me to recognize it?”

He sighed. “Why don’t you eat first? You must be so so hungry.”

“No thanks to you,” you said.

“I’ll tell you about the map, just eat something first, yea?” He nodded toward your seat at the other end of the table.

Finally deciding to relent, you followed his direction and sat at the other end of the table. The plate before you held some of the most delicious food you’d ever seen. A grilled tilapia, no, mahi mahi, you really didn’t care what it was, it was edible.

Hesitantly you took a first bite, then another, and soon you were devouring the food in front of you. You don’t think you’d ever eaten so fast in your life.

“Drink something, you’ll choke,” he commented, still maintaining his relaxed posture in the chair. He notably hadn’t eaten a thing. If you weren’t so consumed with stifling your hunger, you would have assumed everything on the table was poisoned.

Having him order you to do something with such cool confidence would typically make you enraged, but this command was more of an invitation, one you happily took. You picked up your matching vessel of wine and gulped it down. It was like nothing you’d ever tasted. Sweet and smooth and just rich enough to sit warmly in your stomach.

You quickly made work of what was in the cup. Then stood and reached for the rest of the bottle in the center of the place setting. Uncorking the top with your teeth, you threw your head back and chugged.

All the while he watched you. Gently lifting the cup to his lips to sip the very nectar you so intensely swallowed down. When you finished, you steadied yourself on the edge of the table and panted, hand still wrapped around the neck of the bottle, your eyes flicked upward to catch his green ones staring back at you.

“The map is to the Grand Line,” he said, holding eye contact. He placed his cup down and moved his body to fully face yours. “There is a river that travels up a mountain. In other words, it’s impossible to traverse it, unless you have a strong ship – or you know how to cheat it.”

You continued to watch him, eyes dark as he finally explained what the map was for. You knew about the Grand Line. Everyone did. There were monsters and pirates and some of the fiercest dangers you could think of.

“And why do you need me?”

He stood and made his way to you. In the candle light his features were so sharp. The shadow of his jaw, the hollows of his cheeks emphasizing gorgeous cheekbones, his deep set eyes darkened in their sockets despite their bright color. The red color of his nose matched that of his lips which looked so much softer the closer he got. He leaned into the side of your face.

“Oh baby, there are a lot of reasons I need you,” he said whispering in your ear.

He placed a gloved hand on top of your own on the table. It was so much larger than yours and he was so warm. The absence of his coat and hat made him look so much more relaxed, his muscular arms fully displayed. Maybe it was the alcohol in your stomach making its way through your bloodstream, but you began to feel lightheaded.

You slowly turned your head to face him and he followed suit. His seafoam eyes made contact with your own. His lustful gaze sped up your heartbeat. His lips were parted and you could feel his hot breath on your own, so painfully close but not close enough.

“My question for you, gorgeous,” he whispered into the space between you. “Do you need me?”

Your face shifted from a testing confidence to a pleading look of pure want. Your eyebrows pushed together and your eyes morphed from a darkened tease to a blown out lust.

“Oh good,” he purred. “Why don’t you say it, hmm?” His other hand came up to pet goose bumps on the skin of your arm. His fingers leading from your hand, up the back of your forearm, and softly drawing a line until he finally reached your shoulder, your neck, your cheek where he cupped your face.

Turning his head he went straight for the soft spot he knew would make you relent, nipping and pecking the soft skin there. His soft words and lips combined with the scratch of his stubble was enough to make you wet.

“Say it baby, just tell me how much you need your captain.” he growled into your ear.

Through the haze of lust and alcohol, you felt a defiance rise.

“You …” you gasped out.

“Yeeess?” he hissed.

“Are …” you continued.

Panting between words, his hand drifted down to caress your thigh and slowly pushed the lace of your skirt up so he could grip your bare hip.

“Not my captain,” you snarled.

Placing your hands on his chest you pushed, hard. The shock of the action was enough to send him staggering back.

“You fucking little witch!” he yelled.

“And what the fuck are you going to do about it?!” you shouted back. “You gonna fucking kill me?! Oh wait, you wouldn’t –”

Your rant was cut short by his forearms detaching from his body. One pulled you by the wrist back into your chair and the other grabbed a small rope from across the room. You kicked, screamed and fought but he was stronger than you. Once you were bound by your wrists behind the chair, he stalked back toward you. Crouching down in front of you to knee level.

He peered up at you from his position on the floor. If it weren’t for the white hot anger coursing through you, his new orientation could have easily filled you with need.

“You’re a difficult woman,” said Buggy. What he wouldn’t tell you was that, from this position, he could smell your desire, and it was intoxicating. He inhaled and sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, biting down to hide the guttural moan he wanted so desperately to let out.

“Good thing I like a challenge,” he reached behind himself and pulled out a red smoke bomb. You immediately recognized it and began to fight against your confines yet again.

“No, no, no, Buggy no,” you warbled out.

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” and with that he squeezed the little round pouch. As it disintegrated in his hand, he made his way to the door.

Leaving the kitchen, Buggy caught the attention of Cabaji, the only other crew member walking on the deck of the ship this late at night.

“Watch her,” said the blue haired man, pulling his bandanna off his head and heading at a quick pace to his cabin.

Cabaji had questions, tons, but he could tell that now wasn’t the time. The green haired chief of staff walked into the kitchen and saw your sleeping form draped over yourself in the chair, bound and half your neck painted in red.

///

Buggy slammed the door to his quarters. His long hair fell all around his face in a disheveled curtain of electric blue.

“That little fucking whore!” He threw his papers across the room, wiping his desk clean of all that was on it.

“God what I wouldn’t give to just ruin that, fuck, to absolutely snuff the rebellious spirit outta her, god damn it!”

He was still hard and frustrated from teasing you. Recalling your little panting breaths – not yet moans – sent even more pulsing desire straight to his cock. The fire in your eyes when you defy him, what he would give to just crush it and force you under him.

The growling moans he bit back before now so casually fell from his lips. He let out a light chuckle and spread himself out on his throne.

He thought back to the softness of your skin where his lips grazed you. How he knew you’d feel like that all over the rest of your body. And god, your smell. The perfume you wore still lingered on his cotton glove. He pulled the white garment off his hand with his teeth while his other hand squeezed where his hardened member swelled beneath his belt.

“Oh, fuuck ~ ” he moaned.

Both of his hands made quick work of the metal buckle, he pulled his dick from the confines once he got the zipper down. Gripping the angry shaft, his tip already leaking precum, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

After swiping over the slit and collecting his slick with his ungloved hand he tugged quickly on his cock. He could only imagine your beautiful curves and the sweet little face you made when you wanted him.

“Oh shit, good fucking girl, yes, yes, pull on this dick, fucking make me cum.” he growled out. His eyes fell shut and his head rolled back. He imagined what it would be like to eat you out, to have you ride his face and rub your sensitive little clit on his nose.

He’d make you come again and again just to hear you, something he still hadn’t gotten the pleasure to discover. Would you be quiet, whimpering and whining like a little kitten and cumming with a sweet and soft little shudder around his cock? Would you be loud and vocal like his own personal whore, your tight pussy squeezing him like a vice when you came?

“Fuuuuck baby, when I get inside you, fuck, when I get inside you I won’t fucking stop god fucking damn it,” he rambled out, gripping his dick tighter. “Fuck. Fuck. I wanna, princess, fuck, baby your captain wants to cum. Make me cum. That’s right, yes, good girl, such a good girl f’ me make me cum.”

He was incoherent, completely drunk on his own pleasure and the thought of you. After a few more lewd tugs on his cock, he came with a groan that almost sounded painful. He sat back in his chair panting and coming down from the high you filled him with.

He slowly regained consciousness and raked his hands through his long hair. The makeup on his face long since smudged and sweated down his face. He cleaned up and tucked himself back into his pants.

The ship would be docked tomorrow, looking out the back window, Buggy could see land and, as if on cue, the crew mate in the crow’s nest shouted the all familiar phrase of land ho.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚

taglist: @tokoyamisstuff @mommymilkerfanclub @chaoticqueen33 @tootoomanycats

taglist is open.

#stole the moon #buggy the clown #buggy fanfic #buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy x y/n #buggy x you #buggy opla #captain buggy #buggy d clown #kinktober

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dixonsgirl93 · 2 months

Text

Verge

Ghost x Reader

~Keep in mind I have no idea how anything in the military actually works but this is just for fun so please ignore any errors. Thank you

It had been a long day of training and the team were visibly exhausted.

The last thing to do was an obstacle course with a 30ft high wall to climb with a bell at the top, signalling the ‘win’. All of this while wearing full gear and armour.

You were a sweaty mess under the blazing heat of the sun. The gear and armour felt like chain shackling you to the ground. You wanted nothing more than to strip right down and gulp a large ice water. But now wasn’t the time.

First, you had to win.

Because the wall was only wide enough for 2 people at a time, you waited and watched as the others on your team handled the wall. They made it look easy, climbing up fast like spiders. It was rather awe-inspiring. You knew the reality was that those guys were probably seeing spots, ready to collapse to the ground but not before hearing the sweet sound of victory.

Finally, it was your turn and you were teamed with…Ghost. He’d purposely waited back as the others went, even surprising you by not challenging his pal Soap.

He looked over at you, breathing hard but steady. He nodded once and approached the wall. You followed. This challenge had just ramped up to 1000 instantly. You knew it was a slim shot to beat the Lieutenant but by god was you gonna try.

There were no safety measures in place here, as you’d expect while on a mission. There was tree bark around the wall which would break some of the fall but generally it was unlikely anyone would fall.

You got into a ready stance and allowed your eyes to follow the path upward. It looked a lot taller from down here but already a plan was forming as your eyes scanned the foot holds.

Price counted down. A whistle blew and you kicked off from the mud, hitting the wood wall hard. You wanted to look around to see your progress, look over at Ghost and see if he was ahead of you but you were no rookie. Not anymore. You focused on your grips and your footholds, up, just keep going.

Suddenly spots appeared in your vision but you kept going. Up, up. No, why am I slowing down? You thought. You hardly felt the gear in your haste and determination to win so that couldn’t be it.

While you were contemplating the reasons while trying to make your body move, you didn’t notice that Ghost had slowed down and was watching you from above. He climbed slow, probably hoping you’d find your rhythm again.

You reached out to grab a foot hold but your hand landed on nothing. Your foot lifted automatically to follow but with nothing to pull you up, you slipped down, catching yourself quickly.

Fuck, at least my reflexes are still working, you thought.

“You good?” Ghost’s voice called down to you.

You tried to respond but your mouth was too dry.

Stuck in the same spot, trying to recover yourself, you couldn’t help but notice that Ghost had stopped on the wall. There was still a chance to win so you heaved yourself body off the wall and went to climb again.

“Stop!” Ghost called out. Your vision was fading in and out, your body felt hot and cold and you could just make out Ghost’s voice next to you.

“Climb back down.” He instructed. “You’re gonna pass out, climb back down. Slowly.”

You shook your head. “No.” You croaked. “I can do it. I can win. Let me try.”

“So you can pass out and fall? I don’t fancy that call to the medic.” He pointed out.

“Please. I’ll be fine. I just need a second.” But your vision was fading faster. You were really gonna pass out.

“Back down. That’s an order, recruit.” Ghost’s voice was strong. There was no saying no to him.

“Yes, sir.” You said softly and begin your slow decent to the ground. Ghost stayed close but didn’t touch you, not until you were in the ground and your legs gave out.

He gripped your arm to stop you falling and took you across the field.

You wanted to ask where he was taking you but the look in his eye made you stop.

“Have you eaten today?” He asked suddenly, his voice much softer but still with that authority.

You hesitated to answer. “Yes?”

“When?”

“Uh…well, I had breakfast.”

He slowed and glanced back at you, frowning.

“We had that break. You didn’t eat then?”

“I…I felt sick so…no.” You wanted to lie but knew it would be fruitless.

He tutted and made his way through the building to…the cafeteria?

“Sit.” He brought you to a nearby table and you sat down, sighing with relief. You put your head down on the table for just a second and Ghost was already back.

“Tea and toast?” You asked, looking at the stacked plate, mug of dark tea and bottle of water with condensation dripping down the sides.

“I know you’ll eat them. So eat.” He sat perpendicular to you and folded his arms on the table, watching you.

You sighed, already sitting inside, out of the sun was making you feel much better.

You grab the bottle, ripping it open and easily downing half of it in 2 gulps. You close your eyes briefly and sigh.

Eyeing up the toast, you pull the plate close and take a bite, followed by finishing the 4 full slices of toast in record time. By then the tea was the perfect to drink. You savoured this and then finished the rest of the water.

“Looked like you needed that.” Ghost’s tone was much lighter now. All while you are he said nothing, just watched you. You almost forgot he was there he was so still.

“I’ll say.” You breathe, feeling very tired now.

“We can re-do that wall climb tomorrow at dawn.” He stood up from the table.

“I could have beat you, you know.” You joke, knowing you really probably couldn’t. As big as he was, he was bloody fast.

“Well find out tomorrow if ya can. Come on. You need rest.” He started to leave and you followed, wandering if he was really going to walk you all the way to the dorms.

“I called the medic while you were passed out on the table. She’ll look after you.”

“I’m okay now, really.” You argued, standing outside the medical centre.

“I’m telling you, you need rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, he walked away, leaving you at the door. You watched him go. He hardly looked all that tired, even after 8 hard hours of training.

“I’m definitely beating you tomorrow. If not then, someday. You just watch me.” You mumbled to his fading back.

“What?” The medic, who was standing in the doorway spoke, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Oh. Nothing. Ghost sent me here.”

“Of course. Come in. How are you feeling?” She asked, but your attention caught the last glimpse of Ghost before he turned a corner.

#cod simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost drabble #cod ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost #simon riley drabble #simon riley fluff #simon riley mw2 #cod simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley

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m-ayo-o · 8 months

Text

pair

18+ // alcohol consumption drunken night out with Aki Hayakawa wc 720 selfshiptember; 7

The night begins at a simple but welcoming ramen restaurant, the last thing seared into your brain being the shout of “cheers!!” clinking glasses with everybody around the table.

You order more food, loads more drinks, then head to bars and clubs, finally ending up at some house party with Aki. You can’t find anyone else, so you stick to him like glue, not wanting to get lost in the chaos.

After having your fill of alcohol for the night month, feeling numb from all the dancing, you grab Aki and pull him into the hallway, “can we–” you’re barely audible over the noise, “can we go home!?”

He nods and takes your hand as you stumble to the nearest train station.

You find yourselves turned around in the underground labyrinth, but you hop onto a train eventually, hopefully heading in the right direction.

Both of you near enough slump onto the sunken seats like they’re the most comfortable cushion in the world, your heads lolling to the side, collapsing into each other in your intoxicated state.

“Too much– beer” Aki groans.

“I knowww,” you moan back, “my head’s… spinning”

You grip onto each other when the train starts moving, feeling suddenly startled then bursting into fits of giggles.

But neither of you pull away, only cuddling into each other further during your ride home.

You’re far too drunk to walk, your phone’s dead, so Aki insists that you stay over while drunkenly setting up a camp bed for himself on the floor.

“Aki, Aki, sstop–” you slur out, “I’ll stay– if, if you come sleep in here– with me?” You bargain, frowning at each hiccup that interrupts you.

His expression shifts, looking hesitant, then he climbs up onto his bed and sits next to you.

“Help–” you start trying to lift up your dress, attempting to discard the smoke tinged, beer sodden garment before you sleep, “get this off!” you huff with defeat, your arms flopping down again. It’s just too tight and wet.

Aki sighs and unceremoniously pulls your dress over your head, throwing it away as you’re left in your underwear. He joins you shortly, stripping off his jeans and shirt, climbing in as you pull him in for a cuddle.

You’re just so comfortable with each other– he’s seen you in bikinis and underwear so many times now you’re not even shy.

But you’re starting to feel like you should be when you feel something hard poking between your thighs.

You can’t help but giggle, arching your neck round to give him a snarky comment, but you find his eyes closed.

The devil hunter is sleeping.

You watch him for a second, admiring his peaceful expression.

Then sleep calls for you as well as you enjoy his warm embrace, feeling thankful for your reliable friend.

You’re awoken in a lightheaded and dreamy state, the unfamiliar bedroom swirling into your vision, suddenly overcome with panic.

Where the fuck am I?

As soon as the thought crosses your mind you already realise you’re at Aki’s, noticing the familiar clock on the wall, his bedsheets… his arm… wrapped around your… naked? waist?

Shit.

You lift the blanket, finding that you’re at least still wearing your thong.

You don’t feel like you had sex.

You’d know if you had sex with Aki… right?

You feel his hand twitching, grabbing at your waist as you shuffle around, agitating him.

“We didn’t.” he mutters against your back and pulls you closer.

A relieved smile washes over your face. Fuck knows what would’ve happened if you and Aki had sex last night. You wouldn’t have used protection, that’s for sure, and you were honestly so drunk one of you would’ve probably ended up injured.

He hears you giggle quietly as you grip onto his arm, staying in bed for a while longer as you both wake up and recount the night slowly.

You have a peaceful morning together, nursing each other’s hangovers, taking turns in the bath, borrowing a spare set of his pyjamas, then heading to the kitchen.

Aki prepares some coffee and breakfast, serving them up at the small wooden table in the living room. You enjoy the simple meal then step out onto the balcony, feeling the breeze and indulging in a sobering cigarette.

selfshiptember 7!!

likes, comments + reblogs appreciated! <3

#chainsaw man #csm #aki hayakawa #aki chainsaw man #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #female reader #csm fluff #aki fluff #selfshiptember 2023 #selfshiptember #self shipping #self ship

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froggibus · 10 months

Note

Jason Todd (any version) x reader (preferably female) where Jason helps reader through an anxiety attack? Or a panic attack, if that's easier for you. And with as much fluff as possible, please?

Chilling Out - Jason Todd

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: during a party at Wayne manor, you have a panic attack, but Jason knows just how to help you

CW: panic/anxiety attacks, tight spaces (but no claustrophobia), crying, general anxiety (O7), hurt/comfort, mentions of past trauma & triggers, soft!Jason, they get ice cream, i promise it ends very wholesome. lmk if i missed anything

i haven't wrote DC in a hot minute but this request was too cute not to write. im so soft for soft Jason!! also shoutout to my trog for helping me come up w a title bcs i am dumb today. anyways hope you enjoy <3

————

Jason knows very little about your past. Or at least, the bad parts of your past. You were always hesitant to share that part of your life with anyone, and Jason was never one to pry.

Even if he didn’t recognize the trigger, he recognizes what comes next.

That vacant, scared look on your face. The rapid, shallow rise and fall of your chest. He notices the way you’re almost shaking, the way your eyes dart around the room looking for an escape.

You lose more and more air with every breath. The manor is absolutely packed with guests for Bruce’s most recent gala, and having so many people in so little space is overwhelming. You dig your nails into your palms. I have to get out.

Jason is frozen across the room from you. He’s torn—stuck between running to you and wrapping you in his arms and never letting go, or letting you be and giving you the space you need to calm down. He knows if the roles were reversed, he’d want to be left alone. He’d go and hide in a comforting space and try to regain control of his thoughts. But you’re not him.

He blinks and you’re gone, tearing away from the main foyer and escaping into the safety of the house.

You collapse in the closet of a random room. The darkness accepts you into his arms, surrounding you like a blanket. You squeeze your eyes shut and contract all of your muscles, trying to force air back into your system.

Jason doesn’t realize he’s following you until the cold air of the grand entrance hits him. You’re completely out of his sight now, having disappeared into one of the many rooms of Wayne manor. He pinches the bridge of his nose—where could you possibly be?

He starts searching the rooms on the ground floor, careful not to be too loud and accidentally startle you. After none of the rooms on the ground floor turn up anything, he starts to climb the stairs. He only makes it two steps before he hears a sob that sounds a little too familiar.

He backs up, eyes locked on the closet that Bruce keeps winter coats in. It’s tucked just out of the way of any prying eyes, at the end of a hallway near Bruce’s study. It’s quiet, enclosed and of course, dark. The perfect spot to hide in.

“Y/n?” He keeps his voice soft and even, kneeling just outside of the closet.

You sniffle in response, strained gasps echoing off the walls of the closet. How did he find you? How did he know?

He slowly pulls open the door, giving you enough time to hide your face or protest if you need to. A sliver of light from the hallway breaks through the darkness of the closet and illuminates your face. Jason’s heart breaks at the sight.

Poor thing. All teary eyed and wet cheeked, shaking like a leaf at the bottom of an old closet. He shakes his head. This won’t do.

“Hey, hey,” he says, “it’s safe here. It’s just us. Just you and I.”

You hear his words but it’s hard to register anything in your panicked state. Your breathing stays erratic, your heart beats so hard you’re scared it will burst. You can see Jason through the black spots and tears, but just barely. He looks more like a broken mirror than a person right now, but it’s Jason.

“Are you okay if I touch you?”

As soon as you nod, Jason is pulling you into his lap and shutting the closet door to return you to darkness. Strong arms hold you close to his chest and his scent surrounds you.

“Close your eyes, okay? Focus on your breathing, focus on what you feel, not what you think.”

You try to follow his instructions, managing to relax enough to shut your eyes. You can feel the warmth radiating off of him, the steady bump of his heartbeat, his hands resting above your belly button. You can smell his cologne, the familiar scent filling your nostrils and reminding you that he’s really there.

Jason keeps himself sturdy. He keeps his breathing steady and his hands still. You need stability right now, and Jason is going to be the one to give it to you. He doesn’t care if he has to hold you for an hour, or even the entire night. All he cares about is you.

Your breathing starts to steady and the burning in your chest fades. You try not to push yourself—taking slow, gentle breaths.

“Feeling better?” He asks, and suddenly you’re painfully aware that you’re sitting in his lap, in his arms, in a dark closet.

“Y-yeah,” you say, “I think so.”

He nods. “Great to hear.”

Jason awkwardly adjusts so that he can stand, opening the closet door. He reaches a hand out to you. “How about we ditch this thing? We get rid of these stuffy clothes, take a ride on my bike and get some ice cream?”

Jason almost bursts at the genuine smile that fills your face. It’s like clouds parting to let the sun rays through—a reward after seeing you break down in his arms.

“That sounds great,” you accept his hand and let him tug you to your feet. “I’ll go get changed.”

Ten minutes later and Jason is waiting at your door, having traded his suit for jeans and a t-shirt. “Ready to go?”

He takes your hand in his and leads you downstairs, out of the backdoor and to the garage where he parked his motorcycle. He helps you do up your chin strap, calloused hands gently rubbing the sensitive skin of your neck.

You mount the back of the bike, your feet barely scraping the ground. Jason puts on his own helmet and climbs in front of you. He revs the bike, “you should hold on.”

You lean forwards awkwardly and wrap your arms loosely around his waist. Jason seems satisfied with this and takes off. As soon as the bike lurches into motion, your grip tightens around him. You swear you hear him laugh.

The cool night air feels nice on your once clammy skin, the familiar smell of the city surrounding you. Jason drives carefully, or at least, more carefully than he usually does. You can tell he’s making a great effort to keep you comfortable.

You relax into him, feeling the curves of the bike as you make your way into the city. The streets of Gotham fly by, amber streetlights casting the whole street in a soft glow.

You feel almost disoriented when he brings the bike to a stop in a parking stall next to the ice cream parlor. The sudden cease of motion leaves you feeling like you’re still moving, and you have to wait a minute to get your bearings.

Jason puts down the kickstand and climbs off of the bike, hanging his shiny black helmet from the handlebars. “Here,” he offers you a hand and helps you down.

Your knees shake slightly but you find your balance. You take off the helmet and set it on the seat of the bike where you just were.

“So, what’s your go-to flavor?”

You smile. Jason has never been one for small talk, and he’s definitely never been as gentle as he’s being now. You melt at the idea of him being extra careful with you.

“It’s so hard to decide, honestly,” you admit. “I usually get the same thing every time, but sometimes I want to switch it up, you know?”

He nods, “I’m usually a mint chocolate chip or rocky road guy myself, but I like to mix it up sometimes.”

You spend almost five minutes discussing ice cream flavors with Jason. It doesn’t help that this particular place boasts over 100 flavors, and all of them sound equally delicious. Finally, you manage to decide and step up to the counter to order.

You order your ice cream, but before you can pay, Jason steps up behind you and places his order with yours. You go to protest, but the man is already tapping his card.

“Thank you,” you say sheepishly.

“Hey, if I invite you out for ice cream, don’t expect to pay.”

You get your ice cream and settle down at one of the picnic benches in the parking lot. It’s a nice, warm night, and there’s not very many people around. Usually you’d be afraid to be out this late in Gotham but having Jason around just settles your nerves.

“Thank you for tonight, Jay. It—it really means a lot to me that you helped me.”

You swear his cheeks tinge red. He looks at you seriously, “anytime. Seriously, if you ever need me, no matter what, just call me, okay? I’ll be there for you in a heartbeat.”

His words almost have you tearing up again. Seeing Jason so soft, so kind and caring—it just makes your heart flutter. He reaches across the table and squeezes your hand reassuringly.

A peaceful silence falls over the table as you finish your ice cream. Jason never takes his hand away from yours, and you’re not quite sure you want him to. If you could live like this, with him, in this moment forever, you’re sure you’d never have another panic attack again.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood fluff #jason todd fluff #Jason Todd hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #dc #batfam #arkham knight

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abbyromanoff · 1 year

Text

My choice.. (Chapter 5 last part)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader, Wanda Maximoff x reader

Series here:

Word count: 2492

Warnings: Smut, small breeding kink, Nat has a dick (you’ll see why ;), cunnilingus, kind of soft sex, mentions of cheating, heartbreak, sad times, reader being a bitch again, Wanda losing everything

Summary: When Wanda, the love of your life, blips away, you find comfort in your friend. She reminded you of your past lover and you fell for one another. What happens when Wanda returns?

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

Nat walked you back into your room, the one you used to share, the one you will share. Her mouth was on yours the whole time, she was desperate to kiss you after so long. Moans escaped your body as her lips moved to your neck, leaving multiple marks all over. Her hands trailed down to your hips and slowly rocked them back and forth against her covered thigh. Your moans only made her speed up, starting to feel a wet spot forming on her leg.

“Such a desperate little thing, wetting my pants like the dirty little girl you are.” Her words barely processed in your head as all you could think about was the high you were chasing. You were pushed down onto the bed and sunk into the soft sheets, the mattress creating a small outline of your body. The woman moved her mouth from your neck, admiring her traces before making her way down your body. She stopped right in front of your skirt, asking silently if she could remove it. You agreed and she pulled down your bottoms along with your panties. Your shirt and bra were already taken off hastily earlier against the wall. She Immediately started sucking your clit lovingly. Your hands found their way to the older woman’s scalp, pulling her hair slightly. Her free palm found its way onto your hip, holding you down as your body jerked up. Her other went to tease your gaping hole, slowly starting to insert her middle finger.

“Oh, Natty.” Came your small, hushed voice. Her body bucked when hearing your desperate moans, it was always her favorite sound.

“I’m here baby, I’ve got you.” She mumbled lowly into your cunt, not wanting to get her mouth off of you at any moment. Her pace started to increase, the single finger inside of you now turning into two. You already felt full, you wondered how she could ever fit her length inside of your tight hole.

“I can feel you clenching around me, baby, are you gonna cum? Am I making you feel that good?” You yelled out a ‘yes!’ before wrapping your hand around the one on your hip, Nat now clasping hers with your own.

“That’s it, let go for me. Be my sweet little angel and soak my fingers.” Your release spilled over her, the aching jaw of hers working even faster to taste every single inch of you. She hummed into you, the feeling coursing through your body as you shook beneath her. Her digits slowed down, letting you ride out your high before you started pushing her off, the overstimulation starting to hurt.

“It’s okay, honey, I’m just going to pull out. Do you need a minute before I fuck you?” She waited patiently for a response, the two of you panting against one another.

“Yeah, just-just a minute.” She nodded and stroked gentle circles on your skin. Your breathing started to return to normal and Nat started to remove her bottoms, originally only having her shirt and bra off. Her belt fell to the floor along with her jeans, the gray Calvin Klein boxers being the only thing left on her besides the golden chain that sat upon her neck. Her hands gripped the waistband of the clothing and slowly slid it down her toned legs, now joining the small pile of clothing near the bed. She moved onto the mattress and climbed on top of you, her arms on either side of your body.

“My love, can I slip in?” There was that nickname again, the one that always felt weird coming out of her mouth. You were so used to Wanda calling you that, it felt wrong coming from anyone but her. But you had to forget her now, you chose Nat, you love Nat.

“Yes, yes Nat, please do it.” You whined out, hoping to feel any sort of relief soon. She grabbed her cock and lined it up with your hole, shuttering at the warmth that welcomed her. She bottomed out inside of you, making sure all of your tight, velvety walls wrapped around her.

“Fuck baby, you feel just as good as always. ‘Never knew someone could feel this tight and warm.” She couldn’t help herself, she started sliding in and out of you needily. It was painful, she barely gave you anytime to adjust.

“Nat-” “No, no, no, please don’t say that. Please don’t deny me, I need it. I need to feel you so bad.” She whined out, the noise being the only sound besides your panting to be heard in the large room. It hurt, but it felt so good at the same time. The slight burning sensation slowly turned into pleasure. Moaning and grasping onto Nat’s back, she let out a small smirk of victory.

“I told you baby, I knew you’d love it. It feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“So fucking good!” Each word was exaggerated with a loud moan. Nat put her forehead against yours and held you tightly, her arms going to rest on your shoulder blades.

“C-can you open your eyes, sweetheart? I wanna see you.” She mumbled out and you complied. Her chain dangled against your face as her smile was the only thing you could focus on, her beautiful smile that made all your fears go away. Your breasts occasionally made contact with her own, a low whine would come from her open mouth. Her eyes closed shut and you noticed her thrusts start to lose rhythm.

“Fuck, do that again! You feel fucking amazing, princess.” You did what she said and clenched around her cock drooling with pre-cum. The feeling in your stomach got worse, you could practically taste your orgasm, you were so close. Nat was starting to pull out much to her dismay, she knew she couldn’t finish inside of you, no matter how much she wanted it. Your legs wrapped around her butt, holding her in place. She gave you a confused look that quickly turned to pleasure as she felt your warm walls once again.

“Please, I want you to cum inside of me, want your babies.” The way you stared into her eyes pleadingly made her snap, she continued her hard thrusts and only focused on chasing that high.

“Yeah? You want me to get you pregnant, to knock you up?” Before you could respond, an inaudible sound came out of you, the coil in your stomach snapping as you let go. Nat felt liquid spurt against her stomach and looked down, biting her lip as what she saw. She couldn’t have been more proud of herself, she made you feel so good that you squirted, it was already the best part of the night. She finally let herself go after you, her cum shooting into your awaiting pussy.

“I’m-fuck! Such a good little cunt, just a little hole for me to use.” She groaned into your neck as her orgasm hit her hard. You sat under her, still clawing at her back that you knew would have red lines in the morning.

“I love you so much baby, thank you for being with me.” You smiled through small tears and looked into her droopy eyes, giving small kisses to her cheeks.

“I love you more, Natty. More than anything, more than anyone.” Her eyes widened a bit at your last words. Your love for her was greater than your love for Wanda, she could kiss you right now. And she did. She passionately made out with you as she started to settle down.

“Mm, aftercare. Let’s go, I gotta treat you for being so amazing.” She picked you up by under your legs and sat you down on the counter in the bathroom. Small apologizes left her when hearing your slightly pained whines at the feeling of a wet cloth cleaning you, having multiple orgasms made you extremely sensitive to her touch. You were carried back onto the bed as she grabbed your lotion off of the bedside table, lathering it all over you before dressing you in some clothes.

“You know, aftercare isn’t just about me, I want to treat you too.” She chuckled lightly but continued with putting on some of her clothes on you, her boxers and sweatshirt, your favorites.

“Well, tonight is all about you, I want to treat you for being absolutely amazing and perfect.”

“Oh I’m nowhere near perfect, baby.” She disagreed with you and laid down beside you, wrapping her arms around your frame as you turned away from her. She gave pecks to your hickey covered neck and let herself rest holding you, holding the person she loves.

“Mm, you know baby, I feel very proud of myself tonight. You know why?” She mumbled out sleepily and a smile planted itself on her face.

“Hm? Why?” You retorted back in the same tone as her, sleep almost taking over you by now.

“Because, not only did I get to make love to my favorite person in the world, but I also made them squirt.” You bursted out laughing and hid your face into the pillow embarrassingly.

“Oh shut up.” She laughed back in response and made you look at her.

“Hm, I don’t think I want to.” She teasingly responded before giving a final kiss to you for the night.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Now go to sleep, I’m tired.” She nodded and a few minutes later, you could hear faint snores erupting from her mouth. You slowly removed her arms from around you and stood up, trying your best not to make a sound and alert her. You opened the door and debated with yourself before walking out of the room, heading to Wanda’s. Standing in front of her door, you finally collided your knuckle against the wood, hearing a small voice soon after. You walked in and closed the door behind you gently, turning to see Wanda in her pajamas, you hated to admit how pretty she looked.

“Y/N? Uh, what’s up?” You walked over to the bed and sat down, taking your head in your hands.

“I made a decision tonight.” Wanda could tell you meant that you picked Nat, but she was still hoping you didn’t

“Oh. Well, who’d you pick then?” She asked, trying to look anywhere other than you.

“I, uh, I chose Nat. I gave her a ring and, well, we have to start planning a wedding soon.” She knew she had no right to be angry, but she couldn’t control it.

“Wow, that’s great. So I’m guessing everything you ever said you wanted with me was a lie then?” She said coldly, the bitterness in her tone being evident.

“Wanda-” “No. I get it, she was there for you when I was gone. When I got blipped away she didn’t, and she got you.” When there was no response, she continued.

“You know, that house that I always told you about and said I’d love to raise a family with you there. Yeah, that one still hasn’t been bought. I bet you and Nat cou-”

“I’m pregnant.” That stopped her dead in her tracks. She looked back at you with a shocked and confused face, almost like she was praying to have heard you wrong.

“What?” You sighed and stood up, grabbing her hands in your own as you looked down.

“I found out last week, I didn’t want to tell you for this exact reason. I love Nat, I really do, but I think I mainly chose her so this baby could grow up with both of their moms in their life.”

“Does Nat know?” You shook your head no and she removed her hands from your own.

“So, that’s it? You’re leaving all of our love behind because you’re pregnant?”

“I’m not letting this baby grow up with two moms who don’t even like each other, they don’t deserve to have to pick between us. I love you, I love you so much! But, I love Nat too. And I don’t know who I love more, but I do know that I’ll do anything to give this baby the life I always wanted.” You wiped the tears that rolled down her cheeks, water almost leaving your own eyes when seeing her saddened expression.

“But I love you! I thought we were meant to be?” She collapsed into your arms and held you tightly, not wanting to ever let go of you.

“We were, but this wasn’t in our control. I’m so sorry it had to be this way, but we both need to move on.”

“I don’t want to move on! I want you.” You nodded against her and left a small peck to the top of her head, smelling the shampoo that you knew she loved so much.

“I know, I know, and it’s not fair. It really isn’t. But, that’s life, nothing is fair.”

“I’ve lost everything, I can’t lose you too.” At the remembrance of it all, you finally let yourself break down. You both sat in the dark room holding one another as you cried harshly.

“You don’t deserve this, but I love another now, and you wouldn’t deserve that either. You should have someone who’s devoted to you and only you. And I used to, but I’m with Nat now, and I love her.” She nodded, giving up hope on the chance of ever being with you again. It wasn’t her fault, she knew that. But she couldn’t help the guilt inside of her, she didn’t fight hard enough for you.

“Can I have one last kiss? Please?” You wanted to say yes, you wanted to feel her lips on yours like before. But you couldn’t. You were Nat’s, and you always would be Nat’s.

“No. I wish I could, but I can’t. Just know, you’ll always have a special place in my heart.” You sat her down onto the bed and gave her one last longing look before closing the door with your heart left in the room. You walked back to your room with Nat and saw her peacefully sleeping, you felt so wrong for wanting to kiss Wanda in that moment. You felt so wrong telling Nat you loved her when you knew you’d always love Wanda. You climbed back into the bed and her arms instinctively wrapped back around you

“Mm, where’d you go?” She asked, barely even awake.

“Just to get some water, my love. That’s all. Now go back to sleep, you must be tired.” She agreed and without another word, she was back into her slumber. You held her hands closely to your heart and dragged them down to your stomach, picturing her cradling it when you’re finally showing. You knew deep down that you’d always love the other woman, but you couldn’t have her anymore. She was the right person, it was just the wrong time.

Tag list: @daddynattt @wifeofnatasharomanoff @chaisreading @samallen20062837392 @justyourwritter69 @sapphickorro @sayah13 @username23345 @

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violetduchess · 1 year

Text

[3:21 am]

You toss and turn in bed, the soft sheets tangling around your legs. You try to find a comfortable position, but nothing seems to work. You've been awake for hours, watching the moon slowly crawl across the sky. You've tried everything you can think of to fall asleep - reading a book, drinking chamomile tea, even counting sheep - but nothing seems to work. You can feel your frustration building, making your pulse race and your hands shake.

Finally, in desperation, you reach for your phone on the nightstand. It's 3:21 am, and you wonder if anyone else is awake. You scroll through your contacts, trying to find someone who might be up. Then, you come across Mammon's name. You hesitate for a moment before tapping on his name and sending him a message: "Hey, are you awake?"

You don't expect a reply, but to your surprise, Mammon responds almost immediately. "Yeah, I'm up. What's up?" he asks.

You take a deep breath, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. You wonder if you should tell him the truth - that you can't sleep and you need someone to talk to. But you're afraid of sounding weak or needy. Instead, you type, "Can I come over to your room?"

You wait anxiously for his response. The seconds tick by slowly, each one feeling like an eternity. Finally, you hear a soft knock on your door. You sit up, heart racing, and rush to answer it.

Mammon is standing outside your door, dressed in his usual black leather jacket and jeans. He looks a little tired, his eyes slightly bloodshot, but he's smiling.

"Hey, what's up?" he asks, his voice low and gentle.

You feel a lump form in your throat, and you struggle to speak. Finally, you manage to say, "I can't sleep. I tried everything, but nothing works."

Mammon nods, his expression sympathetic. "Yeah, I know how that feels. Come on, let's go to my room."

You follow him down the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest. You've never been to his room before, but you've heard stories about how messy it is. As he opens the door, you're prepared for the worst - but to your surprise, it's not that bad. There are clothes strewn across the floor, and the bed is unmade, but it's not as chaotic as you expected.

Mammon climbs onto the bed, leaning against the wall. He pats the space next to him, and you climb up, settling in next to him. You can feel the warmth of his body next to yours, and it's comforting.

"I can't sleep either," he admits, yawning. "I was up late working on a new scheme."

You chuckle softly, feeling a little more relaxed. "What kind of scheme?"

Mammon grins, looking a little more awake. "I can't tell you yet, it's a secret. But trust me, it's gonna be big."

You're not sure if you believe him, but you're grateful for the distraction. You feel your eyes start to droop, and you realize that you're finally feeling tired.

Mammon notices, too. "Are you feeling better?" he asks, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

You nod, feeling a little shy. "Yeah, thank you for being here."

Mammon smiles, his hand still lingering on your cheek. "Of course, anytime."

You feel a surge of emotion, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. You realize that you're grateful for more than just his presence -

As you both lie there, you can feel Mammon's warmth and his steady breathing, and it soothes you to sleep. You drift off with a sense of safety and comfort that you haven't felt in a long time. Mammon's arms are still wrapped around you, holding you close and protecting you from any harm that might come your way.

Bonus:

When you wake up, you find that Mammon is still asleep beside you. You take a moment to appreciate the peaceful look on his face, and you can't help but feel grateful for him. Without his help, you might still be struggling to fall asleep.

You decide to get up and let Mammon sleep a little longer, so you carefully extricate yourself from his embrace. You make your way back to your own room, feeling a sense of contentment that you haven't felt in a while.

Later that day, you find Mammon in the common area and thank him for his help last night. He seems a little embarrassed, but ultimately pleased that he was able to help. You both go about your day as usual, but there's a new sense of closeness between you.

#swd mammon #obey me mammon #mammon headcanon #mammon x reader #mammon #mammon x mc #shall we date mammon #mammon avatar of greed #xreader #obey me headcanons

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autisticlancemcclain · 11 months

Text

part one

———

Leandro Esposita-McClain, I am in love with you.

Keith’s voice, staticky and muffled, rings through his brain for hours. He barely even moves from his seat, staring into space and trying to remind himself how breathing works.

I am in love with you.

Anyone with eyes can tell that he’s hot.

It’s always the fuckin’ pretty ones that get me.

A confession. Obvious, unmistakable, clear and concise and detailed, even, maybe more words that Lance has ever heard Keith say in one sitting.

Figures, of course, that Lance wasn’t meant to hear it.

The second they land on that night’s rest stop planet, Lance bolts out of his lion, barely remembering to keep the latch open so Kaltenecker can let herself out to graze. He sprints past the Black Lion, who has yet to open her maw, and careens around Blue, barely managing to straighten himself up before he brains himself on her massive paw. He hears her cackling in his head, and doesn’t even bother rolling his eyes. He runs up Yellow’s barely-open hatch and climbs up the stairs on all fours like an animal, tumbling into the cockpit and sprawling in front of Hunk in a heap, panting, suddenness making Hunk yelp.

“Je-sus, Lance,” he scolds, hand pressed to his heart. “You scared me.”

Lance doesn’t say anything, too busy desperately trying to gulp in some air. He’s obviously pretty practiced in cardio, being a paladin and all, but he wouldn’t be surprised to discover that he just broke several Olympic records.

(The breathing struggles may also be from the Keith thing. But that’s embarrassing, so he’s just going to pretend it’s from running.)

“We landed, like, forty seconds ago,” Hunk says after a moment. “Did you fucking teleport here? Is Kosmo around?”

At the mention of the space wolf, Lance wheezes, pressing both hands to his face to attempt to cover it as it flames. It’s no use — he can’t see Hunk through his pressed-shut eyes, but he can feel the wicked grin his best friend is sporting at the mention of Keith-by-proxy.

“I need help,” Lance says quickly, before Hunk can start in with the teasing. There’s no escaping the teasing, exactly, but he doesn’t need to leave any more opportunities.

“Do tell.”

Lance peeks through his fingers. Hunk has arranged his features in a very particular, pinched expression, which Lance knows from years of experience means he is fighting down his commentary with every inch of his strength.

“Keith,” he says hesitantly, “may have just said something along the lines of a confession. To me.” Before Hunk can say anything, Lance rushes to finish: “But I don’t think it was on purpose.”

Hunk exhales for a very long time. “Explain yourself very carefully.”

Lance pulls himself upright, sitting with his back against the wall of the cockpit and his knees pulled under his chin. “So I was just chilling in Red, right,” he starts, picking at his sleeve. “And I get this audio call from Keith, outta nowhere, and before I can say anything he starts talking? But not to me. To Kosmo. And at first I was like, okay. This is a Keith and Kosmo call. Awesome. But then he kept talking to Kosmo only, and I realised he was talking about me, and he said —” suddenly Lance realises he hasn’t taken a breath in God knows how long and inhales a deep, frantic one, flopping out his legs and staring at his friend with wide eyes — “Hunk, he said he was in love with me.”

Hunk’s eyes widen just as big as Lance’s. “Dude!”

“I know!”

“Dude!”

“I know!”

“No, dude!” Hunk insists, gripping his armrests and leaning forward. “This is awesome! This means you can make a move! And I can win a lot of money!” At Lance’s raised eyebrow, he clears his throat. “But, uh, obviously your whole crush thing is priority numero uno. I’m just saying that if you wanted to make some sort of gesture in front of everyone else and in the next week, that would be awesome. For you, of course.”

“Uh-huh.” Lance sighs, dragging his legs back up and hugging his knees, resting his cheek on top of them. “I don’t know. I’m probably not going to do anything about it, really.”

Hunk frowns. “How come?”

“Well, because. It wasn’t a real confession. Maybe it was a prank, or something. I mean, I don’t think Keith’s that mean, but who knows what was really going on? I overheard him say some pretty incriminating stuff, sure, but I don’t know the context. I don’t know the situation. Maybe he was roleplaying. Maybe he was making up scenarios because he was bored. I don’t want to misinterpret things, you know. It could ruin our friendship.”

He’s my friend, I don’t want to ruin things.

Hunk holds up a finger. “Excuse me for a moment.” He stands up and walks calmly out of the cockpit, jogging down the stairs to Yellow’s barracks and storage compartments. Lance tries not to feel too hurt at his best friend’s sudden departure in his greatest time of need.

A few minutes later, Hunk returns, holding his pillow in his hand. Lance tilts his head in confusion — was his butt hurting, or something? He supposes that makes sense. This space road trip has a lot of long stretches, after all. Maybe his butt was so achey that he couldn’t focus on Lance’s tragic situation. Well, Hunk is kind of caked up, but the butt is a muscle, so Lance supposes it can get cramps, too —

Wham!

Hunk clears his throat, brushing imaginary dust off the pillow he just whacked Lance in the face with. Hard! Lance is so shocked he can’t even muster up a single thought, everything going kind of static in his head.

“That,” Hunk says, casually sitting back down in his seat and holding the pillow like he’s prepared to strike again, “was the dumbest thing I have ever heard, and I’m including my own dumbassery in that. I’m including Pidge’s peanut rant in that. You have truly accomplished a feat, my friend.”

“What.”

“I mean, he said it out loud,” Hunk continues. “Out loud, with his mouth, no one making him, he said he was in love with you. Said your full name and everything. ‘Leandro Esposita-McClain, I am in love with you.’ Those were his words And you are sitting on my floor and working yourself into a frenzy.” He tuts. For a brief moment Lance is unsure if Hunk has somehow been replaced with Mrs. Garrett, that’s how much he’s resembling his mother. “What foolishness.”

“I get it,” Lance grumbles, rubbing his face sulkily. “You didn’t have to smack me, you meanie.”

Hunk leans over and kisses Lance forehead with quite a lot of patronization. Lance leans into it anyway.

“I really did.”

“Whatever.”

He stays with Hunk while everyone else unloads, until he hears loud, frantic barking, and a panicked voice screeching after it. Seconds later, there’s a flash of bright light, and Kosmo appears in the Yellow Lion’s cockpit, bounding at Lance with full speed and knocking him right over. Lance laughs wrapping both arms around the big dog as much as he can and squeezing.

“Hell-o, you darling boy!”

Kosmo yips loudly, and Lance doesn’t have time for so much as one more word before his stomach drops, and his vision goes white, and the next thing he knows he’s falling from the sky, blipped out of Yellow’s cockpit. He screeches at the top of his lungs, wondering why the hell Kosmo has teleported him in the air, but before he can hit the ground, a voice calls out “Woah!” and he’s caught by a pair of strong arms.

When he opens his eyes again, having squeezed them shut when he realized he was falling, he locks eyes with Keith. It takes him three seconds too long to realise he’s held in Keith’s arms, bridal-style, and Keith’s face is bright red. He yelps again — nope nope nope nope nope, he is not being cradled to Keith’s chest, not happening — and stuffs a blurry memory of a strong chest and the scent of sweat and smoke and the sound of running footsteps back into the recesses of his mind where it belongs. He twists out of Keith’s grip, or at least tries to, but Keith has a strong hold on him, so when Lance’s squirms he tilts their sight forward —

“Lance, what — quit squirming!”

— but it’s too late, they’re already heading to the ground, and neither has their hands free to break their fall. Just before they hit the strange pink grass, Lance feels Keith’s hand snap over to his head, tucking it towards his neck, instinctively protecting him from getting hurt. They hit the ground with an oof, Lance on his back, Keith crookedly on top of him, face planted directly in the middle of Lance’s chest.

It takes Lance a second to fully comprehend their situation, their position, and when he does he makes this horrible kind of squeaking sound in the back of his throat. Keith makes a similarly embarrassed throaty sound, scrambling to get off of him, but their arms are kind of tangled so he only manages to chuck himself more off balance, just barely catching himself by planting a hand right next to Lance’s face and stopping his forehead millimetres away from Lance’s.

Both of them freeze. Pinned, Lance just stares at the face in front of him (the crooked nose, broken three too many times, the strong brow, dark indigo eyes like none Lance has ever seen before, high cheekbones, flush with humiliation, the new purple scar; every part of his face, every detail, like he’s commuting it to memory, like he’s devouring the image of it after being starved too long). Keith’s lips are parted slightly, and Lance traces the defined cupid’s bow with his eyes, noticing how chapped they are, imagining how rough they would feel.

Anyone with eyes can tell that he’s hot. Seriously hot. And…leggy.

“I think you’re hot, too,” Lance blurts, and then immediately wishes for death. It doesn’t help that he hears both the sound of a camera shutter and several coins changing hands. (And Hunk’s very obvious crow of victory and loud “Thank you, Lance! I’ll give you a percentage for your service!”)

“What,” Keith croaks, which is generally a bad reaction to a confession but makes sense in this circumstance.

Lance clears his throat, still hyper aware of the way Keith’s body is streamlined on top of his, the way one gloved hand is still curved around his neck.

“I heard you,” he clarifies. “In the lion. With Kosmo. You must have butt-dialed me, or something. You said you loved me.”

He sees the exact moment it clicks for Keith, because face begins to actually turn pumice, and Lance can feel the heat pouring off of him. “I must have —” He makes a cut-off, aborted noise and hangs his head, slightly, like if he closes his eyes for a second he can wish away the entire situation.

Which. Fair. Lance can’t blame him.

“I am giving that dog away to a local charity,” he grumbles.

Lance snorts. “As if. You love that dog more than anything. Also, I’ll kill you if you even try.”

Keith glances back up at him, corner of his mouth twitching, and laughter bubbles up out of them at the same time, half-hysterical and half-tense and half-exhilarated and half something Lance can’t name. Two hundred percent intensity. Lance goes hoarse, and Keith loses the ability to hold his own head up, resting his forehead on Lance’s collarbone.

“I can’t believe I’m going to have to tell people you confessed via butt-dial, you goober!”

“You could lie and say I took you on a really romantic first date?” Keith suggests, grinning cheekily.

Lance snorts. “Not on your life.”

Keith sighs. “Yeah, didn’t think so.” He finally climbs off of Lance’s person, offering Lance a hand and pulling them both to their feet. Once Lance is upright, Keith stills, visibly deciding on something, then yanks the hand clutched around Lance’s backwards, making Lance stumbling forward. He steadies him with a hand on his waist, then untangles the other one and rests it on Lance’s cheek. He holds it there for a moment, letting Lance figure out his intentions.

Lance face burns as he understands the implications, what Keith is trying to do. He glances down at Keith’s chapped lips, thinking again of their roughness, imagining the scratch of them against his own, the scratch of the slight stubble around Keith’s chin in the late evening, the tickle of his hair on his cheeks.

“Although this part is kind of smooth,” he admits quietly, eyes half-lidded. He brings a shaking hand up to rest on the one Keith has around his hip, squeezing gently.

Keith’s lips quirk up. “Point for me, then, I guess.” He leans in, no hesitation this time, and presses his mouth to Lance’s; soft, searching, gentle and curious.

Lance melts.

Lance Esposita-McClain, I am in love with you, Keith had said, accidentally.

And I am in love with you, Keith Akira Kogane, Lance thinks, on purpose.

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