#or trying to hold my breath as long as possible to stay under

[luveline]

𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

when an unknown intruder breaks into your apartment, you call hotch. he races to make it to you in time. requested here. fem!reader, 3.7k

cw home invasion, assault, attempted sexual assault, reader is badly hurt/held at gunpoint, please read with care for the content warnings above

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Hotch?" you whisper into the phone, your voice barely audible. 

"Who is this?" 

Hotch doesn't always look at who's calling at night, he just answers. Bad habit. You curl in on yourself where you're on your knees in the closet, trying not to wheeze breathlessly down the receiver. "Hotch, it's me. I need you to come and help me." 

"What's wrong?" He doesn't ask why you're whispering. "Are you at home?" 

"There's someone in my apartment." 

"You're sure?" 

You shift backwards into the embrace of your hanging coats and dresses. It feels as though tens of hands are petting your shoulders, a shiver racing along your spine as a floorboard creaks somewhere in your kitchen. 

"I heard them open my door. I don't have my taser, I…" You stop talking when you hear more movement, terrified you'll be discovered. Regret clings to you. How many times has Morgan offered to teach you self defence personally? "I don't know how they got inside."

It doesn't take more than that for Hotch to click into work mode. "Stay on the phone with me. Don't talk. I'm going to put you on hold to call Morgan. I will be ten seconds at most. Don't panic. Don't hang up. If you think you can leave without being seen or heard, leave, but if you can't, don't show him where you are." 

The invader's footsteps track to the bedroom. You know at once that your tired mind isn't hallucinating a bad scenario to keep you up —this is real. 

You had the hindsight to close your laptop and push it under the bed along with your go-bag, a rucksack full of clothes that you take on cases in different states as part of the BAU. You'd made a quick assessment —your job more than prepared you for this— based on the little information you had. Either the invader knows nothing about you and has assumed you'd be home, or they watch you enough to think you'd be elsewhere. If they think you're here, you're in danger of being assaulted, kidnapped, or murdered. If they think you're away, you're in danger of being robbed. One scenario is a thousand times more preferable than the other. 

You can't help but think of the horrible things you've seen. You know intimately what kind of damage one person can do to someone at their mercy. 

The hold sound is a quiet droning that freaks you out. If you can hear it, the intruder might be able to, too. Like the low hum of the fridge at night or the bumping of the dyer. 

You hang up the phone. 

"I know you're here." 

Your pulse flies through the roof. It pounds so hard you can feel it everywhere, the tip of your nose, your eyelashes. You look through the dark of your closet and panic in the fullest definition of the word. Your heart can't sustain this for long. 

You failed to think of a third possibility. The intruder watches you enough to know you're home. The BAU has a lot of enemies. Anyone could be waiting for you on the other side of the door.

"Come out and I'll be kind," the intruder sing-songs.

You type out a text with shaking hands, your message nearly illegible. 

They knowa 8m hjome. Cant talkk dontcall me

Thirty seconds elapse. A reply comes through. You smother the chirp with your chest. It sounds loud as a shot in the relative quiet. 

Police dispatch 5mins. I'm 10mins. Morgan 12. I will be there as soon as I can. Protect yourself 

That's easy for him to say. You drop your phone in defeat but scramble to pick it up again when you realise it's your best weapon. Or… You crawl to the opposite end of the closet to your shoe rack and slide the shoes apart with honey slow movements, your breath coming in quick, too-loud pants. You never expected to feel this way, you thought you'd know exactly what to do, how to react, but this feels outside of reality. 

You brace the long heel of a shoe between your fingers. Your hand is a vice. 

In your bedroom, the intruder goads you. "I know you're home, Y/N. There's only so many places for me to look, you know? But if you make me check each one, I'll be unhappy when I find you." 

What the fuck? you think. Breaking apart the fear like a knife is anger, a new shot of adrenaline. Who is this guy? You want to spring from the closet and show him how unhappy you are, but your chances of survival improve the longer you can hide. If he has a gun, that's it. You could be dead in the next two minutes. No amount of anger would save you. 

You could be dead in the next two minutes. 

thank you dpr everything, for being my friend aaron, you text. You know how embarrassing it will be to have said goodbye if nothing bad happens to you, but you also know how haunted Hotch will be if he can't get to you in time. You aren't foolish enough to unravel your feelings for him over text, but you're sentimental enough to think they'd matter to him. He'd want to know. 

If things go bad please knoeew that I loved my life and my work and you and the tram more than anything

After a moment, you add, If things don't go bad please nevrr mentiom this 

Footsteps at the closet door. A pause that feels gargantuan, the silence so heavy it threatens to snap the floorboards beneath your knees. 

"Found you." 

You leap up and throw yourself at the closet door as hard as you can, gasping when it swings on the hinges and clips your opposition in the leg. You don't think, you don't look at his face, you simply drive the point of your shoe into his collar. 

He gasps. Something hard and rigid whips upward, your neck snapping to one side as the skin of your cheek splits, gunmetal glancing off of bone. You drop down onto your ass, half out of necessity and half to get away from the pain. You can't outrun it, nor can you escape the forthcoming assault, grunting in shock as the bottom of the gun comes down atop your head. It was likely meant to incapacitate you, but all it does is hurt. 

You flip onto your front, stagger onto your hands and knees, and launch yourself up through the bedroom doorway. You only have to get away. 

He sweeps your legs from under you barely ten feet down the hall. 

You fall. Your knees hit the hallway slats and your face follows, the nerve endings in your teeth ringing one by one and your eyes tearing up as your nose makes a huge thwacking sound. Gasping, you rush to cover your face though the damage is done. Your gasp turns to a sob, hands quickly wetted by blood. 

"Stupid bitch," he hisses. 

You crawl into the kitchen. He steps on the back of your thigh. 

"I have a G43 pointed straight at the back of your fucking head."

"Good for you?" you say, eyes squeezed closed. 

You whimper as he grinds his foot into your leg. 

"Don't think I won't use it when I'm done with you." 

You shake your head from side to side. That can't be what he's here for.

You should ask him what he wants, or threaten him with the approaching police sirens. You should've tried to climb out of your fire escape. You should've set the door alarm as soon as you came home, but you're just so fucking tired lately you must've forgot. Everything feels like a chore. Right now, you're exhausted. 

"What are you going to do?" he asks you. 

You won't negotiate. You don't answer.

Forceful, no time to protect yourself, he kicks you in the side of the face. It hurts worse than the fall, that shattering pain like a firework under your skin. You struggle to keep your mouth shut, hoping that your whining cry is less audible to him than it is to you, scrambling backward toward the cabinets. You're defeated. Maybe you deserve it, for it to happen so easily. Three minutes and you're down. 

"I asked you what are you going to do, Agent?" 

"What am I supposed to say?" you ask. Even to your own ears, you sound pathetic. 

"Whatever I want you to. Now get up, honey." You cringe. "Unless you want to stay on the floor like a dog?" 

"Don't call me that," you say, wincing at the grinding sensation of your jaw. 

"What, a dog? Or… honey?" His tone is smug. "I thought you'd like that. It's what your boss calls you, isn't it? Late at night when he drops you off. Not strictly professional." 

You groan and turn onto your side. The police sirens are getting close. You live in a busy place near a main road, the sirens could be for anybody, but you need them to be for you.

"Get up, honey. You can pretend I'm him, if you like. I'll make it easy on you. I can be nice." 

You deliberate. Do as he says, or risk further agitation. Do what he says. Live to see the end of the night. 

Or drag it out. Give Hotch enough time to get here. 

"You'll pretend to be him?" you ask, sniffing. You can't tell if you're crying or there's blood on your face. 

"Aw. To begin with, sure." 

You sit up. For the first time, you look your attacker in the face. It's difficult to tear your eyes from the barrel, but you do. He has a cruel face, as tall and formidable as Hotch is but with none of his lightness. You put on your softest expression, gazing at him through tears. When you speak, the fear is real, even if you're attempting a facade. "You'll be gentle?" 

"No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?" His lip curls in disgust.

"I don't know," you mumble, looking down at the floor. "You said you'd be nice." 

"We both know you don't like nice." 

"I do," you say, finding your footing in the charade, the sorry victim, whatever he needs you to be for now. You hate giving him anything, but you know in the moment that you'll do what you need to do to save yourself from injury. "I haven't… I haven't done stuff in a long time, I can't just rush into things." 

The gun makes a quiet clicking sound as he points it with more fervour. "Like I believe that. You're probably fucking Hotchner on the side." 

There, that jealousy. He's been watching you, he knows where you live, what you want, and he's still convinced that you're fucking Hotch. It's not logical.

You cling to the threads, trying to pull apart his composure. You'd assumed him an anger-excitation rapist, unafraid to hurt you as he already has, but now you're thinking something else. 

"You think I'm sleeping with my boss? Why?" 

"Besides your constant need to be touching him? It's disgusting, you throw yourself at someone who doesn't want you. You're pathetic. I can make you better." 

You see movement in the corner of your vision. Dark hair, a stony expression. Hotch stands at the precipice of the kitchen in a bulletproof vest, a finger to his lips. Sh. 

Your relief knocks a breath out of you. The invader takes it for pain at being read. 

"Look," he says, softer. Not genuine softness, but practised. As soon as you give in, he'll drop it. You're both acting for one another, but only one of you is a profiler. "You'll forget all about Agent Hotchner once we're done. So just get up." 

You hold out your hand. His eyes light up with malice as he leans down to take it, his gun finally aimed away from your face. 

Hotch moves in. 

"Drop the weapon." 

Your attacker whirls. Hotch doesn't hesitate. Front sight, controlled trigger press, follow through. A bang like a clap of thunder fills the room. 

You flinch down into yourself. Everything goes a little white for a while, people running into the room, a gun skittling across your kitchen tile. Your ears ring from the bang of two bullets and you're sure you've been hit, you're hurting so much, but hands squeeze under your arms to tell you otherwise. 

"You're okay," Hotch says, knee against your thigh, face ducked down to meet your eyes. "Hey, can you hear me?" 

You shake your head. You can hear him, but you're far from okay. Hotch bites commands over his shoulder, holding your waist in his hands like he's worried you'll slip out of them. Tight. Too tight. You suck in as big a breath as you can manage and choke on it, coughing, the wild sting of your wounds a ringer. 

"You did so well," he says as he catalogues your injuries, his frown deepening. He tilts your head up to the light. 

"I knew you were on your way," you deflect.

"You were talking him down." 

"No, I was surrendering." 

"You didn't give in until you saw me. You weren't surrendering." 

"But I would have," you whisper, closing your eyes.

"Doing what you need to to survive isn't easy. But you do it." 

You hang your head. 

— 

Hotch winces at the sound of your skin being sewn closed. Morgan sits beside you in the back of the ambulance holding your hand, your fingers twitching between his with every tug. They dosed you and applied a general anaesthesia, but the pain is pervasive. His eyes keep moving back to your hand in Morgan's. He isn't jealous —he's annoyed with himself. Hotch should be the one holding your hand.

He should've hugged you. The absence of it feels awkward between you, though he's positive that that's the last thing you're thinking of right now.

"Will you have to set her nose?" Morgan asks. 

The paramedic shakes his head. "Not broken. Just very badly bruised. Even the bone." 

"That doesn't need a cast?" 

Hotch should hold your hand, should hug you, should be organising the scene. Should, should, should. The only thing he's managed to do since he incapacitated your stranger is watch you for signs of life. 

You're despondent. In shock, no doubt. You let your friends pass you from place to place with little more than pained sighs for input.

JJ does an excellent job of surveying the goings on, while Rossi and Reid take care of some of the bigger questions: who is this guy, what did he want, and how did it come to happen? 

What did he want? Hotch can guess. Rage collects like the heart of a furnace, a molten cup of steel in his throat as what he heard you say plays over and over in his head. 

You'll be gentle? 

No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?

He'll never forget the way you sounded asking that question. Terrified, begging for a scrap of mercy. 

Emily approaches from behind. "We have a name." Hotch tips his head to show he's listening. "Paulo Danvers. He was part of a crew that installed her security parameters a few months ago. He was vetted. This shouldn't have happened." 

"No, it shouldn't have." Hotch lowers his tone, "She said she wasn't sure she set the lock." 

"It wouldn't have mattered. He disengaged it from the outside." Emily takes a few steps closer to the ambulance. "Hey. Morgan taking care of you?" 

"Don't I always?" Morgan asks, clapping your arm gently. 

You don't answer. 

"What, you're not talking to me?" Emily asks. She's not mad, the opposite. Concern lines her eyes, thin brows pinching together at the starts, though she does her best to smile through it. 

"I don't feel well," you say quietly. 

"Yeah? You're not squeamish, are you?" 

"Don't think so." 

"It's shock," says the paramedic. 

"What's your pain like?" Hotch asks. He's the only person you'll give a straight answer to. "Bad?" 

"Yeah." Your hand is lax in Morgan's. 

"I can give you slow release tramadol to last the night or codeine pretty much immediately. It's up to you. And I'm really not comfortable with releasing you without next of kin. Do you have family in the area?" 

You shake your head. "It's just Hotch. Agent Hotchner," you correct yourself, nodding at him.

"You're her partner?" the paramedic asks. He can sense the disapproval. 

"Her boss." 

"Not her partner?" 

"He's my closest friend," you say. 

He's never heard you say that before, but it's true. 

"I wish you were my boss," the paramedic jokes, turning back to her supplies as she peels off her gloves. "Maybe I'd get better sick pay." 

You're given slow release tramadol and officially pronounced to be on the mend. If he didn't have an FBI badge, you'd be spending the night on a ward. He'd prefer if you did, but you clearly don't want to be somewhere alone right now, and he just wants to give you what you want after having your choices held over your head.  

He's not offended when Emily asks if you'd prefer to stay with her. It's harrowing what might have happened to you had you not heard the initial break in, and the perpetrator would've been a man like Hotch. Tall, white, dark-haired. He wouldn't blame you for needing space from him to feel safe tonight, but he's relieved when you turn her down. 

"You don't have to act like something happened to me," you say.

Hotch clicks down the locks of his car and turns on the overhead light. You squirm in the passenger seat, looking wrecked. Your chin is split, your nose a dark purple mess cut by white splint. You have a cut on your cheek and another just above your eye. 

"You don't think something happened?" he asks, hands on his legs. He can tell you wish he would start the car and take you home without pressing. 

"No, I know, I look awful, but he didn't do anything to me." Why is it so hard to say what it could have been? "You don't have to act like I'm gonna wig if you touch me." 

"You won't mind if I hug you?" he asks. 

"No. No, I want you to." 

It's thankfully a short gap to cover as Hotch leans over the console. He's careful of your face and still you mumble a tired, "Ouch," in his ear.

He rubs your back, slow and soft. "You okay?" he asks. 

You don't answer for a while. It doesn't matter, Hotch'll sit here in his parked car for hours if you want him to, hands on your hunched back. Your face hides away. He can feel and hear your distress building, and he wants you to cry if you need to, but it'll hurt.

"Sh," he hushes you gently, "it's okay." 

"I'm fine." You sound welled up. 

"Someone broke into your home and held you at gunpoint. You don't have to be fine." 

"Yeah, I do. It's my job." 

"No, that's not your job," he says, closing his eyes. "This has nothing to do with your job. This is about something bad happening to you. Don't put walls up now. It won't work, it never does." 

He tries to back away in case you're overwhelmed.

"Wait," you say, your panic like a cough. 

"I'm not going anywhere," he says. 

You sniffle, nodding into his chest. Hotch has comforted a hundred victims of violent assault. He's held the faces of women he didn't know hoping to give them something solid to lean on. But it's different with you, because you and Hotch aren't simply friends. There's a deeper vein of affection, and tonight's event is a jagged slash against it, bringing every unbidden feeling he has for you to the surface. He can't get how scared you sounded out of his head. He knows that feeling is still there. 

"How did you get here so fast?" you asked. 

"I took the side road. And went unavoidably fast." 

You make a small, small sound. He's known you for long enough to understand what it demarcates, unsurprised when the trembling of your shoulders turns to pained shaking. Hotch holds you delicately. He's done so much in his life, made a thousand and one mistakes, used a heavy hand when he could've been sweeter. He's determined to get this part right. 

"I'm with you now," he says. "I'm sorry I couldn't–" This is harder than he imagined. He presses on. "Couldn't protect you from the start." 

"You know why I called you?" you ask, your tone similarly soft. 

Hotch doesn't bother answering. The answer is unsaid, loudly heard. 

"I knew you'd come," you finish.

He puts a hand on your neck to encourage you into place, kissing the side of your head. Hotch will always come when you call. 

That night, you ask to sleep in his room. I'll sleep on the floor, just don't want to be alone. You're in ragtag clothes he'd scraped together for you, and after helping you wash the blood from your hair and face, you're even more impossible to say no to than usual, looking small in a way you haven't before. Hotch sets you up in bed next to him and wonders if he'll ever sleep next to someone he hasn't let down. 

You put that notion straight in your sleep. Hotch lays awake sick with the idea that he's failed you, and you, frowning, snoring, covered in cuts, curl into his side. You cling to his arm so hard he's certain you're awake at first, a bouquet of bruises painted across your cheek. 

Hotch pulls the blanket up over your shoulder, planting a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

He whispers your name, not sure what he'd say if you answered. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed♡ I haven't written long form (ish) for Hotch in a while so I'm nervous but I hope it's good!! let me know also if you'd like a second part cos usually I don't feel like there's much left to tell but for this one the could actually confess :o

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[fcthots]

Drunk sex with jay?he's the one drunk btw

I got carried away...

This is one of the longest things I've ever written

He is such a horny drunk. It's been established for years at this point. He achieves something. He's proud of himself. He gets drunk. His face gets flushed. He gets flirty. He gets horny. All a part of the routine. You've talked about it. You've discussed it. You've accepted it.

And you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the flirting at least a little.

He'd started drinking an hour ago. He's had his eyes locked on yours since then. He's watched your every step and hasn't stopped smiling.

You know he's watching you. You're standing with him in the kitchen. He's sitting on one of the metal barstool chairs he picked out a few months ago at some old furniture store. He's solidly drunk now. His steps waver when he tries to walk and he slurs his words when he speaks. He smile still doesn't drop.

He's been chattering most of the time, talking about nothing. Also flirting. So much flirting. But he's been silently staring at you for the last 3 minutes, a record.

He rests his chin in his hand. "I wanna taste you."

You drop the remote you were holding. He snickers. Loudly.

You let out a huff and bend over the grab the remote, blushing furiously. While you grab the remote from the floor, he soundlessly moves behind you. You're not entirely sure how he pulled it off in his drunken state. You don’t notice until you stand back up and his hands find your waist, pushing their way up under your shirt and tracing patterns into your skin. "Sounds like you like my idea. C'mon." He draws out the last syllable slightly. He turns you around, removing one hand to place it on your chin and tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes are hooded and dark. "Please?" His voice is gruff and slightly deeper than it usually is. How are you supposed to resist him?

He can see the surrender in your eyes ands smile brightens. You let out a breath. "You sure?"

He doesn't respond, just presses his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. He's no longer so drunk that he can't walk, but you still don't trust him to walk backwards to the couch the way he'd usually lead you during a kiss, so you walk yourself backward to the kitchen table. It breaks off the kiss when you sit, but Jason is quick to go to his knees to follow you. His mouth doesn't stay on yours for too much longer, it makes its way to your neck and you can feel him leave hickeys that surely won't be gone by tomorrow. His hands find their way back under your shirt to your hips and waist, pulling your body flush with his. They move and latch onto the hem of your shirt, trying to lift it, but he can't bring himself to move his mouth away from your neck. You do it for him. Faster than the flash, kid flash, or impulse could move, you lean slightly back and away to lift your shirt off your head. You toss the shirt across the room and you can faintly hear the fabric hit the ground as Jason's mouth returns to your neck.

But this time, it doesn’t stay in that one place for two long. How mouth moves to your finally freed collarbones and licks a hot strip up the middle of them. His eyes lock with yours and your skin feels warm and electric. His hands move up your body and try to make their way to your chest before he gets annoyed at the fabric there.

"Ugh!" His tone is annoyed and you can't help but let out a breath of a laugh. "Take it all off. Everything. Now."

"Bossy." But you're doing exactly what he says and you know he can see the excitement in your eyes. You think about making a remark about the clothing (What? can't figure out how to get it off?), but ultimately decide that getting the clothes off as fast as humanly possible is more pressing. His hands have to move away from your waist when it's time for the pants to go and you immediately miss the warmth of his touch. It isn't gone for long, though. The moment your underwear drops, his mouth is on your tits. He draws a nipple to his mouth and you can feel his tongue move against it. Your hands find their way into his hair as he moans and pushes the rest of his body against yours. You feel his teeth graze you and you let out a brief gasp. His fingers dip into your hipbones and he doubles his efforts.

He doesn’t want to spend too long on just one, though. He always says they both "deserve equal attention" (usually right after he says something like "mine. All fuckin mine,") but well his mouth is a little busy right now. His hands trail down to your thighs, moving up and down. They squeeze intermittently as he bares down on your tit. You try to rub your thighs together, to get some sort of friction, but his hands roughly push them apart and hold them in place.

You tug his hair back, moving his face away and making him look at you. His eyes are half lidded, dazed. There's not a damn thought in his brain other than you. He whines and it short circuits your brain. You were about to say something, but he beats you to it.

"Need you. Need to taste you. Please."

"Thought you'd never ask."

His head moves back to your chest, but this time it trails down. His open mouth kisses are quick and sloppy. He follows your skin as it moves with your quickening breaths. His hands move back up your thighs and this time they trail all the way to your hips. He licks a final stripe up your stomach as he jerks you to the edge of the table.

He moves his hands again, this time around the outer side of your knees. He briefly kisses his way up your thigh. You're both breathing loud and heavily by the time he hooks the knee over his shoulder. Then he moves his mouth the other thigh, moving his mouth along it the same way he did the previous one. And again when he finally makes all the way to your inner thigh, he backs his head up, smiles at you, and hooks that knee over his shoulder.

He lays down one last kiss before he looks back up at you again and says, "Sorry, ma. Can't wait any more."

His arms loop around your thighs to keep you in place and he wastes no further time. He licks a wet stripe up your cunt and you let out an unholy moan. His lips wrap around your clit and suck and your brain shuts off. Your eyes slide closed against your will, despite how fucking good he looks between your legs. The only thing you can do is feel what he's doing to you, and by the looks of it, he's in the same boat. You swear you don't know what he's doing with his tongue, but fuck it feels good.

You think he might be more drunk on you than the alcohol at this point, but regardless you notice he hasn't remembered to breathe since he started devouring you. You try to tug him by his hair but his neck remains stiff and he moans into your cunt (and fuck if that is't distracting). "Baby." You tug his scalp again, this time with force. He gasps when you pull him away. You make eye contact and his eyes are a fucking sight. His pupils are blown wide, but more important his mouth and chin are coated in your slick. He licks his lips and you almost lose it at the sight. "Don't forget to breathe."

He seemingly can't wait any longer because he talks on his way back to your cunt. "Yes ma'am." Your brain shuts off for the next two minutes. You suspect he might be tracing his name into you, but you're not complaining, especially when it feels like that. His fingers dig into your skin as you let out a stream of curses.

He backs away to catch his breath and had you been in any sort of state to, you might have made a remark about him remembering all on his own this time, but you're too thoroughly wrecked to let out anything other than a high pitched whine.

He breathes a laugh. "You sound like me. Tsk tsk tsk. I guess I've been rubbing off on you too much lately." You forget how much of a cocky bastard he can be. Apparently he's finished his meal, because he moves your knees off his shoulder and rises from his knees. There are red marks where his fingers were pressed into you. "C'mon. Get up. I'm gonna need you to ride me. Let's go. Let's go make you drunk on my cock, baby"

Time to find out if you can still walk.

#this is the equivalent of my YouTuber apology video for being gone for so long *brings out ukulele* #jason todd smut #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood x reader smut #red hood #red hood x you #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x afab!reader #smut #saph’s love letters #saph’s thots

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 16] Justifications

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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Mrs. Gojo’s first reaction to finding her son in the hospital room isn’t one of worry– Rather, she’s curious. She wonders if you told him; she doubts you’re dumb enough to actually tell him, but he got here somehow. Instead of wondering how he found out, she should worry about how she’ll explain everything to her son. She can’t just throw you under the bus… Well, she can but it wouldn’t be right for her to do so.

Satoru is sitting down, his hands on his knees as he looks around the room. He contemplates everything. He questions every single relationship that he has. Shoko knew, and his mother, but who else? How many people are betraying him? How many people know the fact that he has a son? 

The man is nauseous at the mere thought that they faced him as if they weren’t hiding something that could turn Satoru’s life upside down. He hears his mother’s heels as she walks towards him but he can’t bring himself to look up at her. He’s never had a close bond with his mother, and at times he’s hated her presence; but nothing compares to now. Satoru has never hated being her son until now. 

“Satoru.” She doesn’t try to soften her voice when she talks to him. She probably should. She feels the hatred that radiates off her son, and she knows that maybe she should console him. She’s mostly at fault for how things played out. “How did you end up here?”

“That’s what you say.” His voice breaks and he takes a deep breath to compose himself. He won’t start crying in front of his mother, she doesn’t have to know how heartbroken he is. She should have an idea though because it’s no easy feat. “You knew about my son, you hid him from me on purpose, you let me find out on my own and your response is that.”

She stays quiet. Satoru will continue speaking and she won’t interrupt until he lets it all out. “I always knew you weren’t a star mother, but this? You’re the worst mother I’ve come across. You hid my son from me, and for what? Because you didn’t want your ideal plans to go to the trash?”

“You’re almost twenty-seven and you act like a child. You wouldn’t have been able to step up to the role. I did what was best for you, and for Ren and his mother.” She argues and he feels his blood boil. He’s never been so mad in his life.

“I wouldn’t have been like you. I wouldn’t have thrown my son to the help and let them raise him. I’m nothing like you, I would’ve been able to step up to the role. Ren would’ve actually felt me being present, and I would’ve loved him as much as I possibly could.” Satoru’s nails dig into the fabric of his pants. “No one is ready to be a parent. You learn along the way. I would’ve and am going to try my best, the same way you should’ve.”

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have your precious job title, Satoru. Watch how you talk to me.” She warns him, ignoring the guilt that runs through her veins. She focuses more on the fact that her son gives her attitude. 

“This is what you wanted! You didn’t tell me because you knew I’d give up everything for him. I knew you were fucked up but to this extent? You’re a wretched woman, I’m ashamed to call you my mother.” Satoru raises his voice, and silence follows. She doesn’t know how to answer. Satoru clears his throat, “For how long have you known? For how long have you known I have a son?”

“Almost a year.” She confesses, and maybe Satoru would’ve easily let it slide if it was something more recent. Well, she hired you for a reason, she’s known for as long as you’ve been working with her. Satoru takes a deep breath, trying his best to hold back the tears that fill up his eyes. 

“Shoko knows. She told me. Who else knows?” He asks, speaking slowly to contain his feelings. She shrugs, she doesn’t know who else knows. 

“I have no idea. I didn’t know Shoko knew.” She responds, walking over to stand next to Satoru. He glares at her, standing up. He can’t stand to breathe the same air as her for another moment. She watches him walk away and she asks, “What are you doing? Now is not the time to throw a tantrum.”

“A tantrum?! You hid my son from me and you’re calling this a tantrum?!” He yells. “You’ve known about my son for a year, you asked for him to be kept from me, and you’re calling this a tantrum? You’re fucking unbelievable. This is all your fault. You’ve been set on making me miserable ever since I was born.”

“Calm down, Satoru.” She says, and Satoru has to take another deep breath. He doesn’t even know how to respond to her. How dare she even suggest that? She must be out of her damn mind– No, she’s evil. He’s convinced she’s fucking evil.

“I’ll never forgive you for this. This is so fucked up, even for you.” Satoru steps out of the room. He needs a breath of fresh air, and he needs to take it all in. Gather his thoughts. 

He’s a father. He’s been one for the past four years. How does he handle it all? His mother betrayed him in the worst possible way. You betrayed him the worst possible way. But Satoru can somewhat understand why you stayed quiet. Not her though. Both reasons are selfish, but her selfishness is pure evil. 

“Satoru.” He hears your mother, and he stops walking. The tears that he’s been holding back finally slip out, and he wipes them away as your mother walks to him. Her hand goes to his arm and she squeezes it as a form of reassurance. “Let’s go grab a coffee, there’s a coffee shop nearby that’s open.”

“Yeah.” He tries to talk normally, and she gently smiles at him. They walk outside and Satoru follows your mother’s lead to the coffee shop. They walk in silence, and when they get there, Satoru pays for coffee for the both of them.

Once the coffee is in their hands, they sit in silence at a table. They came here to talk, yet Satoru is not going to spark up the conversation– At least Satoru assumes that they came here to talk. Your mother clears her throat, “I hope you can forgive my daughter for this… At the very least see her point of view.”

“I’ll try at the very least… I just thought she would try to tell me. I’m disappointed… and feel betrayed.” Satoru confides. He’s always felt like he could talk to your mother, she’s always been someone he can trust. He never went to his own mother for help, instead he went to yours. “I would’ve done anything for Ren, she knows I’ve always wanted to have a kid.”

“I remember the day my little girl called crying, telling me she was pregnant. Her boyfriend just broke up with her and she didn’t know how to tell him. You were out of town, your mother fired me– I told my daughter I quit, but it wasn’t that. Your mother didn’t want me around, she started hating me the moment my daughter started to date you,” Your mother begins and Satoru listens attentively. 

“She tried to tell you, Satoru. You changed your number. You completely cut her off. She went to your house, and guess what your mother said to my pregnant daughter?”

“That I got married.” Satoru mutters, looking away since he’s too ashamed to look her in the eye. 

“And you know the damage that caused? She cried for weeks, but she managed to move on. She couldn’t dwell on you forever because she had a son to be responsible for. Maybe she should’ve told you when she saw you, but I understand she didn’t need you anymore.” 

“I didn’t get married because–” Satoru begins but your mother cuts him off. She doesn’t want to hear any justifications, she really doesn’t see any response that will make her feelings change.

“I don’t care why the hell you got married. I was rooting for you, Satoru. I was rooting for the two of you, but you showed me that you’re just like your selfish entitled family. You made me change my mind, you’re the last person I want near my daughter and my grandson.” Her words sting more than anyone’s because the woman that sits across from him practically raised him. “But I guess I have no other option. You are Ren’s father.”

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, causing her brows to raise.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” She answers before standing up. Satoru watches as she walks away, biting his quivering bottom lip. He shuts his eyes, trying not to begin crying in front of everyone. 

He’s tired. He should probably go home and take a nap, but he promised his son he’d be there when he wakes up. So he won’t leave until Ren sees him. Satoru stands up and goes back to the hospital.

You don’t talk to each other when you’re with Ren. Ren is filled with love, from both of his parents and grandmothers. He’s never been with them all at the same time, and he’s excited to be with them all even when he isn’t feeling too well. His father seems to have a lot of questions though, but Ren likes the attention.

Ren gets to talk about his birthday (which surprises Satoru since they have the same birthday), his favorite color, his favorite show, his favorite toys, what he does when mommy is not home, what he does when mommy is home; Satoru tries to get to know all about Ren in a couple hours to make up for the past four years of his life. Satoru is overwhelmed with sadness, yet he’s never felt so happy before as he sits on an armchair, next to his baby boy. Ren holds his father’s hand, smiling when he’s never felt worse before. He’s just happy to meet the man that he’s been asking about.

Satoru spends the entire afternoon there, listening to Ren’s every request. He expected to spend the first day with his son in the hospital but not under these conditions. Regardless, Ren could be a newborn or a four-year-old, Satoru loves him either way. 

Ren yawns, and Satoru sheepishly smiles. He kisses the top of his son’s head. “How about you go to bed, buddy? You’re tired.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Ren says, and Satoru squeezes his hand. You swear you hear your heart break as you hear Ren’s words. You definitely fucked up.

“I’m not leaving, Ren. I’ll be by your side when you wake up, I promise.” Satoru assures him, and the man stays by his side until Ren finally falls asleep. Satoru doesn’t let go of Ren’s hand. You sit in silence for a moment as you try to decide what you’ll do next. Should you speak? Maybe you should… But what should you say? Maybe you should apologize, but you don’t have the guts to do it. 

“Who else knows?” Satoru whispers, not wanting to wake Ren up. He doubts that Ren will be waking up any time soon though, no matter how loud he is.

“Shoko and Suguru. And everyone that works at your house.” You answer. “I asked them not to tell, and I lied to Suguru so don’t be mad at them.”

“Did you… At least try to argue with my mother about telling me?” He hopes that you’ll say yes, so at the very least he can feel like you care about his feelings. He wants to hear that you tried a bit more. He’s filled with disappointment when you shake your head. He looks away from you, and back at Ren.

“How are you going to tell your wife?” You ask, and Satoru shrugs. That isn’t his main problem right now. Sayo can wait.

#[changes] #gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

[brnesblogposts]

Stuck

bucky barnes x reader

a/n miscommunication & close proximity trope is all i’m gonna say, it’s very fluffy once well- read it and find out reblogs appreciated!!!

“You’ve gotta be shitting me” Bucky speaks under his breath, frustration evident in his body language and tone. A feedback sound started on the speakers on the ferris wheel.

“Ladies and gentlemen there seems to be some technical issues with the ferris wheel, remain calm and stay seated and we should have it back up and running soon”

You heard a heavy sigh escape from Bucky as his head hung back in defeat.

“They said it’ll be fixed soon, won’t have to be stuck with me for long Buck” Trying to cut the tension that sat between him and yourself only earned a side glance from the man beside you.

You looked down to the car just beneath you “STEVE, NAT!! ARE YOU GUYS OKAY??!” Their heads whipping towards you as you spoke at a far too loud volume.

“WE’RE OKAY! YOU?” Natasha replied back and you gave her a thumbs up, her and Steve getting back to bickering and giggling about whatever they were talking about. Meanwhile you were sat next to Mr Grumpy-

“Can you stop moving,” he spat out without looking at you. Bold of you to assume you were getting somewhere with him, even on the brink of considering him a ‘friend’ but that idea was shot down quickly.

“I’m not moving, it’s probably the wind or maybe it’s you and you don’t realise” Tapping your fingers on the barrier that held you in place, he turned to you and gave you a bitter look which only made the situation more awkward and tense.

“How’d i get dragged onto the ferris wheel anyway” He huffs.

“Because, Steve and Nat are your best friends and also Nat is really scary and saying yes was easier than saying no” You looked down at the two as you spoke, their flirting ever so obvious even from your height.

A few minutes passed where nobody said anything, you both avoided eye contact and it gave you time to reflect on what you could’ve done to make Bucky so impassive to you, you’d barely talked to him because if you tried he disregarded you or made an excuse to leave as soon as possible. You really wanted to be his friend too. It’s awkward when the four of you go out and Steve and Nat obviously want to do things together as a couple making you stuck with Bucky and him with you. At least being civil is all you want, for Bucky to be able to hold a conversation with you longer than a few seconds.

“Are you cold?” His voice broke you from your thoughts, you were shivering and you hadn’t realised as you were so deep in your head. You looked at the goosebumps on your arms and turned to him,

“I guess I am, yeah.” you laughed at your ignorance for not noticing your body temperature drop. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Bucky starting to take his jumper off.

“What are you doing?” You furrowed your brows at his action, there’s no way he was about to give that to you, he doesn’t even like you, you don’t think so anyway based on every interaction you’ve had with him ever.

“I’m giving you my sweater?” Now he was confused, it was quite obvious to him what he was doing, why else would he take off the jumper and sacrifice himself so you could be warm? He’s a gentleman first if anything. He got it over is head and handed it you, you took a second to take it as you were flabbergasted at his sudden kindness towards you.

“Oh.” You broke your gaze from him down to the jumper “Thank you,” you smiled gratefully and put the jumper on. The sleeves swallowed your hands, which helped because they were freezing before. Then you looked back at Bucky who now sat next to you in nothing but a black t-shirt “Are you not cold?” Once again furrowing your brows in his direction.

“Not as cold as you” He was looking straight ahead at the city view from your spot at the top of the ferris wheel. Reading his expression was impossible and you were really trying to—

“Okay well uh— thanks again.” You repeated your thanks as you snuggled into the jumper that now enveloped you, “So.. kinda awkward, huh?” You tried cracking a joke laughing a little as you did so which made Bucky turn to face you, analysing his features which you didn’t notice softened as he saw you smiling.

Bucky coughed awkwardly “Uh-“ He let out a small laugh too “Looks like Steve and Nat aren’t bothered by this disruption at all” His tone was lighter.

“Those two wouldn’t notice the world ending while they’re gazing at each other like that” You laughed again, Bucky liked that sound.

“So in love, it’s sickening” He retorted with a shake of his head and a smile which earned a glance from you, just a brief one before you looked back down at your sweater paws as they rested on the barrier, Bucky has noticed and he found it endearing, he felt warm whenever he saw you smile or heard you laugh and every time your thigh accidentally touched his due to your close proximity he swears a bolt of electricity travelled through him making his heart beat faster.

“I think it’s cute” You had a small pout on your face as you spoke, still looking down towards your two friends “imagine being stuck on a ferris wheel with someone you love, not the worst thing in the world in my opinion, it’s kind of like an impromptu date where you have no choice but to talk because the other option is incredibly awkward silence” You fiddled with the sleeves of the jumper.

“I guess, but what if you were trapped on a ferris wheel with someone you liked who you knew didn’t feel the same, that’s awkward all on its own” He was playing with a thread on his jeans as he spoke, you noticed.

“How would they know if the other person didn’t feel the same? Had they asked?” You inquired as the tension between you grew once again because the situation was too close to home.

“Isn’t asking embarrassing though?” Bucky asked breathily, like he was nervous.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?” He looked at you.

“I mean the worst that can happen is they say no and you’re sad for a bit but you’d move on eventually” You smiled but you weren’t looking at him.

“Right, yeah” He coughed awkwardly again and the silence resumed until he broke it about a minute later “Uhm” clearing his throat again Bucky decided it was now or never “Are you doing anything Friday night?” He closed his eyes for a brief second because there was no going back now.

“No, why?” You looked at him and smiled, maybe he’d finally be your friend, that was progress and you could work with that.

“Would you uh- like to get dinner with me? Like a date..?” He avoided your gaze as he asked.

“What” It caught you off guard and you responded without thinking.

“Fuck” He swore to himself “sorry forget I said anything, I don’t know what was going through my-“ He began to ramble.

“Bucky no I mean, I thought you didn’t like me” His head turned to face you as he thought about your words.

“What? No I do like you” He furrowed his brows thinking back on the interactions you’d had where he hadn’t realised he’d been so nervous it came off as rude. “Shit i’m sorry, i’ve been an ass to you now that I think about it, I wasn’t trying to though, I thought I was uh- I thought i was disguising my attraction to you well because i didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but I guess it came off dickish” He internally slapped himself at his mistake

“Oh, OH” The realisation and his admission hit you “Awe, Bucky,” you laughed at how silly it all was, if you’d have just talked to each other sooner this could’ve been avoided “Bucky I would love to go to dinner with you” You smiled at the man.

The ferris wheel suddenly began again and you were on your way down, both smiling like idiots and laughing whenever you’d glance at each other, two idiots that had liked each other this whole time who didn’t know it. You both stepped off the car and down the stairs smiling and giggling still and approached Natasha and Steve,

“What the hell happened up there?” Natasha laughed because she had never seen the two of you so cosy before, Steve raised a brow but you two only burst out laughing again and started walking ahead of them and snickering as they both stared in confusion and disbelief.

#avengers #writerblr #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader

[visionsofmagic]

day 22: simon ghost riley [sex pollen]

࿓ synopsis • after the mission is done, waiting for trucks, you realize something is wrong with your body but ghost there to help.

―❦ nsfw, roughness, jealousy, fingering, clothes full on/off, dom!ghost, possessiveness, claiming, mentions of exhibitionism (I guess), licking, cum eating, pet names, nearly fainting, crush, f!reader, brat!reader, praising, poison/venom, flower & more in the work! • 3.9k • the longest one for the kinktober, but, who is surprised? I am on my knees for this man, so, hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed whilre writing! here’s our lieutenant, have fun & enjoy! [kinktober m.]

“copy,” ghost said, using the device on his chest as he talked with soap on the other side of the call, making a plan about waiting where you are for a while – inside a small room used as an office for information gathering, while the team secures the building entirely until the trucks come. “y/n and I will wait in here.”

hearing your name from his lips always gives you goosebumps – he has great effects on you, and you believe he knows every one of them because of how he acts around you, however, he’s a duty man, bringing no love or any affection into the field – sadly. you content yourself with the little yet effective affection he gives you though. he’s different around you – even though he will deny it right away.

as he nods to you, then, sitting down on a chair with no arms, he puts his weapon beside it – elbows on his knees, he kneels lower, taking his knife out of his pocket and cleaning it – acting as if he’s alone in the room but you can sense that he studies you.

to act calm down, you travel around the room as possible as you can, the rain washing over the window, giving a sense of coldness. holding the beautiful flower inside your hands, you smell it again because of the addicting scent it has, giving you a feeling of joy, even a highness you cannot acknowledge yet.

finally, putting it onto the table, you grab a book from the shelf, get in front of the table, and sit on it, making ghost stand right beside you as he still uses a cloth to clean his sharp knife.

blowing the dust from the surface of the book on your hands, no glove, the scent of the flower is still on there, you read the title that book has. you chuckle, making ghost look at your face for a moment under the mask, hands never stopping.

turning to him, you show the book, saying, “didn’t know there would be classics on the shelf of the bad guys.”

ghost nods, “it’s just for the display sergeant.”

“it seems so,” you say, shrugging and putting the book down beside you. then, you watch his skull-themed gloves working on the knife, signing because the images – dreams, in other words, come into your mind in which he uses his long and thick fingers to fuck your holes – how would it feel, you ask to yourself, and a deep voice answers it right away, ‘it would feel euphoric’.

when you come to yourself, you look at how his hands stopped, and his eyes directed on your face, studying you.

leaving a nervous chuckle, you hold your thighs tightly to stay still under his piercing gaze. “something wrong sir?”

he gets up slowly, taking your breaths away with each little step he takes. his knife goes into his pocket, and, his gloved hand finds your chin, rising your head up, standing a bit taller than you even though you sit on the damn table. “s-sir?” you try to ask, getting breathless at the proximity you have – it’s not the first one, nor the last, yet, it’s effective as if it is.

“your face –“ he says, furrowing, “it gets redder.”

“huh?” it takes time for you to understand what he’s saying. when it hits you, your eyes widen, thinking that the reason behind being red is him. chuckling, you wave your hand in the air as he leaves your chin, “’s nothing lt, gotta be overwhelming state of the mission we have finished.”

he doesn’t say anything. going back to the chair, his eyes never leave your body as you get up from the table, traveling around the room, and finally stopping in front of the shelf once again. your back is turned to him but you can feel his eyes on you which burns you alive.

palms getting sweaty, hair on the neck getting high, hands trembling, breathing rapidly, nose getting cold, and the whole body except it becomes warmer each passing time – making you weak entirely – it all happens in a moment, before even you know it, your body’s temperature changes from steady to warmer one – only a few places of it remain cold; your nose, the tips of your fingers, and sweats. only simon’s voice is audible as the rest of the world’s noise becomes blurry to hear – to understand. even the rain’s peaceful sound disappears.

it feels far more different than any disease or feeling you have ever felt – taking your logical side away slowly, one by one, it makes you breathe louder, taking the attention of simon to you when you turn to him, hands moving without your mind’s control, scratching your back, neck and even abdomen. “s-simon – “ you say, voice low, haskier than before, using his first name, not the title or nickname.

he stops talking with whomever he talks to through the device, looking at you as your hands find the surface of the table – to become steady, you hold its edge strongly, still looking at his worried eyes.

“is it me or – agh – is it me or the room is getting – uhm, hot?”

simon says he needs to go to soap, as you assume, then rushes to your side – hands find your face after he gets rid of his gloves – skin touching to the skin, you close your eyes and leave a whimper at the feeling of coldness his body has. “ohh – simon –“

“shit –“ he swears, letting your forehead hit his chest, holding you from the back now, he says, “damn, y/n, you’re burning as hell.”

he sounds calm, giving you the power to hold still, and having the strength to hug his arm, “simon – aggh – please, please, simon – help me.”

you have no idea how your mind works in the moment but you’re grateful.

picking you up, he sits you down on the table, holding you by the arms, he makes you look at him, “hey, look at me sergeant. listen here little one, I will go and get the medic team, got it?”

he doesn’t wait for you to answer, ready to leave you and get the others immediately because he cares about you so much that it drives him crazy to see you this weak, so red, breathing rapidly, and can’t focus anything but only him.

however, he can’t go, not when your eyes meet with his, hands finding his chest and holding him dearly – as if he’s the cure you need, and in the end, he will understand that it’s the deal – his your cure.

“don’t leave – simon, need you, only you.”

a certain time passes until he understands what's going on truly after he analyzes all the possibilities and the reason behind your state – the moment the sight of the flower on the table, behind you comes to the vision, he gets it at the exact same moment.

“hey, y/n, look at me kiddo. did you smell that flower?” his patient runs empty – turning your head to it, he asks the question again, and you finally answer by nodding.

he curses under his breath – even his breaths get rapid, how to help you without alerting others is a hard decision to make. he spends his little time thinking about it as he picks up the water bottle from your pack, giving it to you, waiting for you to drink it and get a bit of clearer mind.

“okay, okay,” you whisper to yourself, cleaning your face with the rest of the water, shaking your head, “I get it now – the whole lab, medics, scientists – it’s all because of it, right?”

he nods, calming down to see you good again, not entirely, but enough to understand it all.

“oh, how stupid I am!”

he stops you from going further and blaming yourself – he knows you like cute little things, can’t hold yourself from playing with them, being innocent, and not thinking about the consequences fully. this is why the enemies tried to make venomous yet cute-looking flowers to use against others, to get what they wanted without being caught.

“’s okay, just focus in here, tell me how you feel.”

with wet eyes, you say, “hot – it’s so hot – lt, can I take my clothes off?” you ask suddenly, the logic is long gone, only instincts remain high, and you act according to them. “gotta feel coldness.”

without waiting for an answer, you take your clothes off, not thinking about the outcomes, just doing what you think will be helpful.

staying only with the thin fabric of your upper shirt, covering your body tight, and leaving your abdomen in display, your muscles loosen up. to become colder, with the fact that the temperature lowers as the clothes leave your hot skin, you take your pants off, only leaving the little shorts hanging on your lower part – too occupied to get as naked as possible that you can’t see ghost going and locking the door with the key you used to enter in the first place.

finding himself before you once again, he reliefs when he sees the heat disappearing on you, however, the risk still is there to be fixed before anyone comes into the room, questioning why their lieutenant and sergeant stay silent.

he knows you got the flower with the poison of sex pollen segments – causing the user of it to get a high degree of warmness, especially in certain parts of the body, making the person who used it want to have intimate sessions with another one, and it all happens without their knowledge because they’re too gone to understand the situation they’re in – and that is exactly what happens with you, his delicate sergeant who he needs to take care of – to heal, to become the cure for that he will gladly agree on but first, he needs to tell you about it, retelling what soap told him before you said how warm the air was.

“hey, doll, focus on me, would ya?” he asks, spanking your cheeks lightly to make you focus on him. “you’re under the effects of a poisonous flower,” he shows it again, “the warmness, sweats, desires are caused because of it,” he tries to stay low, not giving his feelings away when he sees your almost naked body and how your eyes wink rapidly, looking at him from head to toe and mouth going dry as you do, “we need to get it out of your system.”

“I know,” you say, whispering.

“what?” he asks, sounding surprised.

you look guilty for a moment, avoid his gazes, you confess, “I read the description on the report but I didn’t know which flower was which – I thought this one was – pure, to use afterward – but it seems it’s already affected.” you sound sorry, yet, you don’t stop on your actions – picking the bottle and using the rest of the water to pour it on you. “I am so sorry, lt, I really am but I – aggh – I know what we should do –“ you look at him from the corner of your eyes, too afraid to look directly, “if you would like to help me – but if you don’t, I can go –“

“no,” he sounds as if he orders you around. he hides the jealousy rising within him as the idea of another man touching you, being the cure, hit his mind – he wants to be the only one who can have you – his good girl – well, not in the particular moment but maybe, you’re still his good girl – or else, you would suggest to go and see a doctor immediately, not waiting and asking him whether he can heal you or not and it’s even meaning that you’re giving yourself to him.

because of the effect of the venom in your system or not, he knows you damn well that you would not ask if you didn’t want it. “I will help,” he says, nodding to show how certain he is, hands slowly reaching your arms, skin to skin, the coldness flowing from his fingers to yours. eyes widen, you look so pretty, he thinks, “just tell me you want it not only because of the pollen but also because you desire it.”

it doesn’t take time for you to confess it, nodding, hands finding his chest, “I desire it,” you say, breathing louder, “I desire for you, sir.”

satisfied, he smirks, glad he has the mask on, yet, you know him, don’t you? even your gestures are proof of it – the hands gripping him by the neck, lowering him down, saying, “sir, your mask is on the way.”

“you’re a brat, aren’t ya?” he teases, not understanding how he is adapted to the sudden situation – he just gives up, giving you what you want – what you need – himself, and taking what he desires for a long time in return.

curling his mask up until it reaches half of his face, lips on sight, he nods, allowing you to move closer and kiss him, and you do it in high spirits, smiling, and connecting your warm lips with his cold ones with such passionate that he puts his palms on the table beside your thighs not to fall onto you.

warmness makes it euphoric – lip kissing lip, tongue joining the other’s mouth intensely, whimpering sounds coming out both of you in unison. hands hugging his neck tighter, you make him kneel down closer enough that he gets between your inner exposed thighs – the hard fabric of his pants touching your flesh, sending chills because of how clothed he is compared to you.

leaving for air, you feel his massive hands moving to your thighs, finding the sports’ edge from there, and pulling it down in one motion after you nod to him, moaning his name lowly, “s-simon –“

“oh,” he says, waiting for you to take your top off too, throwing it onto the floor, putting your palms on the table as you lean to behind, displaying your naked body fully to him with pride and lust – and a bit of shyness you can’t hide. “prettier than I have imagined.”

“you – you have imagined about m – mmmph!” your words are cut by his fingers entering your mouth, shutting you up as he waits for you to lick his two massive fingers. now thanks to seeing half of his face, you can witness the smirk he has, clearly enjoying how you lick his fingers with pleasure, eyes half-closed.

“wondering how you will manage when you have my dick inside you twice as big as my fingers on your mouth, doll,” he says, teasing yet having the voice of a man who tells no lie – only the truth – and just the idea makes your pussy clench around nothing as you suck his fingers, wishing they were his cock instead.

his lips find your ear, whispering, “tell me, do you think you can handle me, princess?”

not in the slightest you believe you can, but, you want to, so, you nod fast, making him chuckle – sounding so sinful and angelic at the same time that you feel warmer – hotter than any poison can give.

“atta girl,” he praises you, both for licking his fingers and nodding, “now take my fingers, need to prepare your beautiful pussy.”

waiting no more, he shoves his fingers into you in one go, making your forehead hit his chest, hands gripping his arms strongly that were he another man, he would break – but no, he’s fucking ghost, and he can receive any damage he can get from you without complaining.

you moan mindlessly, trying to swallow them – it’s too much, you think, too much to handle yet too delightful to push – so, you open your legs wider, they’re shaking already.

“simon – ohhh! yes, yes, yes!”

he chuckles again – how many times now, two? – more than he chuckles for an entire year but it’s you after all – his pretty girl who is so fucked up even with his fingers.

“unbelievable, sergeant,” he says, taking you by the chin, eye to eye, “it’s only my fingers, and you’re already cumming?”

“huh?”

he’s right – he’s so right that it hurts – seeing your cum on his finger, you feel shy, one step away from hiding your face on his chest – but you stop when you see him licking his fingers full of your juicy – a moan escapes from your parted lips.

“mmhh –“ he whimpers, “tasteful.”

it’s the only thing he says before giving you one last look full of danger – mixed with lust – something you see first, something you will beg to see again and again after this night as well.

putting down his mask, he turns your body and bends you down on the table – not too harshly, not too gently.

“simon!” you scream in shock – a shock that turns you on further – even though you cum a few minutes ago, you sense an upcoming climax after he grips you by the neck, pushing you onto the table, getting your ass up. hearing him unzipping his pants, your wet pussy clench around nothing, eyes closed, heart beating as if it will break your chest into two, set free – you know the venom eating your body alive still even after the cum – however, can’t deny decreasing power of it which leaves its place to one and only simon ghost riley who seems like he’s ready to devour you.

“didn’t though ya would get away that easily from disobeying my rules, and picking a possible venomous flower without sayin’ me about it?”

he sounds amused rather than angry – he’s doing it on purpose, to make you go crazy – to make your pussy go crazy for him.

“don’t say such things, lt,” you challenge him to be rougher, being a brat, using the effects of the poison on the advantage. “or else I will disobey you more often.”

“is that so, kiddo?” he mocks you – you can hear it through his husky and dangerous voice, alerting you about what will come – and you’re so right about it when you feel him slapping your ass – body jolts forward – weren’t he holding you by the neck, you would fall at the impact, “then for each one of ‘em, I will fuck you so well that it will dig into your bratty mind not to show disobedience to your superior.”

“wanna learn it, sir, wanna learn my lesson – please, simon – pleeease! need you – agghh –“ your words – or begs if you be honest with yourself, shutting down by his cock’s tip, entering your pussy slowly as he opens your folds wider to make it fit.

with a different desire except being fucked by him, you turn to behind as possible as you can, looking at his thick and long cock staying right in front of your hole’s entrance, “ohhhh –“ you moan with pure instincts when you see how massive it looks.

simon’s head tilts to the side, eyes burning your skin alive, “what is it, doll, bigger than you have imagined?” he refers to the fact that he’s not the only one who has deep desires – but also you – having naughty thoughts about your superior, your lt who you have by your side all the time.

“s-simon,” you sound more fearful than you want to, “will it – will it even fit?!”

he shakes his head in disbelief, kneeling further – his cock enters you deeper, making your back arch in both pain and pleasure – it’s already too much and it has another halfway to go!

“don’t worry princess,” he says – how come he can sound deeper with each passing time? “I will make it fit into your tight greedy pussy. after all, you are made of for my cock – for me, aren’t ya?”

he finds the answer to his question by going in deeper, causing both of you to moan and swear – he shoves his cock deep inside your walls, filling you up fully – the feeling is euphoric, boiling in sin, completing with the lust and passionate coming from the love you have for each other.

“ohhh – simon! it’s too – too much!”

hoping you will be able to adjust his length soon enough, you let him take his cock off out of your aching pussy and shove it inside again with a hard thrust, trying to make it fit – make it give you the pleasure you need as a cure at the highest scale.

“just – fuucck –“ you could never, “mghhm – just one more to fit!” could never thought you would make him swear, whimper, even moan out of all the people, yet, here you’re, in front of his massive body, bent over, displaying your body to him in nude, letting him use your body as he pleases – he does it to heal you, it’s the first thing you believe, but when you go deeper in your thoughts, you realize how not only you but also he is in the need of you – having you.

“there it is,” he says, taking you from your mind into reality, cock has started to fuck you faster, going in and out with perfect rhythm which continues to accelerate instead of staying at the same pace. “told ya you’re made for it, doll.”

starting to fuck you hard, deep and rough – exactly what he wants and you need, he uses your wetness to thrust into you easily, earning sweet voices from your dry and parted lips, looking at your exposed body shamelessly, as if he has all right to do – well, he does, you both know it – feeling pussy clenching, squirming around his length and soaking onto it – mind dizzy, hands gripping the table under them to stay in the earth – he’s the only reality you have who feels like a dream – eyes seeing starts because of how good he fucks you, you sense poison leaving your body, its place is filled with what ghost is giving; heaven and hell – mix.

“simon, simon, ohh, simon! s’ good – agggh – it’s s’ good!”

“shh,” he quite you down, kneeling on your level – cock hit the deepest part of your pussy, thrusting your g-spot without missing, “you don’t want the others to hear, do you?” he asks, entertained when you bite your hand to stay silent, “or you want it. would you like that? others watching your pathetic face as I fuck you good? no one, but me – mmh – fuuck! that’s right baby, no one – just me, simon ghost riley. shiiit – can’t even realize soaking so wet hearing my words,” his fingers joining his cock, picking the wetness you’re making with his fingers, then, shoving them into your mouth.

you moan his name as you suck your taste from his fingers, eyes rolling, going white when he grabs you by the hair, turning your face to watch your pretty face close while fucking you harder as if it’s possible – he claims you, you know it even with your dysfunctional brain, “scream my name louder.”

he orders, hands leaving your hair to position on your hips, holding you still, breaking you into pieces – you don’t know how louder you moan his name, too cock dumbed to care – don’t know how many times you cum onto him – don’t know the tears washing your face – brain isn’t working – or it works just to send pleasure into your twisting abdomen, and abused pussy.

the last thing you feel his hot semen filling you up, moaning your name as he does it, then, nearly collapsing onto you because of how good it was to fuck you.

“fuck, you have no idea how weak you’re making me, princess.” he confesses, picking your body, he guarantees, “don’t worry, I got it from here, sergeant. only rest.”

hearing his words lastly, you give up – the exhausted body is left to take care of him, your one and only simon ghost riley.

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina& @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear & @manuursw *hearts, hearts, hearts* 💌💌💌

#☁ last week of kinktober 2023 #kinktober 2023 #cod #cod: mwii #call of duty #cod x reader #cod smut #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x you #cod: mwii x reader #cod: mwii smut #but you haven't seen my man *in lana del rey voice* #ON MY KNEES FOR HIM 🧎‍♀️

[hearts4sungie]

this is my first post, hope you like it!

HOW SKZ CUDDLES WITH YOU

BANG CHAN ☆

• throws himself on you

• he came home from a long day of working so you let him put his full weight on you. it’s comforting to you both

• lays his head on your chest while he talks about his day as you comb your fingers through his hair

• likes to leave lazy, wet kisses on your neck and chest

• usually ends up with chan sleeping soundly on you while you carefully try to get your phone to snap a pic of his curly head on you

LEE KNOW ☆

• pulls you to his chest and has a grip like you’re gonna go away

• peppers the top of your head with dainty kisses

• “you smell pretty, baby.”

• you try to pull from his tough grasp because it’s getting a bit too hot.

• he whines while not letting you get that oh-so- necessary fresh breath of air.

• “why are you trying to run away from me?”

• he gives a sly smile once you give up

CHANGBIN ☆

• BIGGEST BEAR HUG.

• likes to kinda rock you back and forth

• you both whisper cute nothings to each other while giggling

• soft kisses to your nose

• continue to be lovey dovey until drowsiness takes over the both of you

HYUNJIN ☆

• big spoon big spoon big spoon

• he likes when you baby him while cuddling

• you listen as he talks about his recent hardships while lazily twirling his hair around your finger

• when he’s the big spoon, he likes to lightly scratch your arm to see you get goosebumps

• favorite part of hyunjin’s day.

JISUNG ☆

• smothers you with love

• he makes SURE you’re wearing his hoodie while you guys cuddle, finds it adorable

• you freely speak about your day as he intently listens, jumping in every once in a while to give his opinion

• he can listen to you talk while being in his arms all day.

• biggest smooches bc he just cant resist it

• “hey! lemme finish speaking before you cut me off with those wet lips”

• though you say that, you always avoid eye contact from getting flustered

• jisung loves it

• stay in each other’s hold all day

FELIX ☆

• holds you like you’re the most fragile thing ever

• “you know i love you so much, right?”

• showers you in assurances of his love

• holding hands under the blanket

• you guys eventually fall into a comfortable silence

• you lay your head against his chest to hear his heartbeat, wanting yours to sync with his

• he always falls asleep before you and you use that opportunity to confess your love back

• most times felix is pretending to sleep just for that moment, to hear your pretty voice say how much you love him.

SEUNGMIN ☆

• likes to drape his arm around your stomach while you lean into him

• seungmin isn’t too touchy but when it comes to cuddling; he uses this time to make up for that

• you both have your eyes close as you lazily converse

• his fingers trace light circles on your side while you talk about your day

• soft kisses to his cheek before you guys drift off to sleep

JEONGIN ☆

• another tight hugger

• likes to keep you flush against him

• “innie.. its getting hard to breathe and too hot”

• “dont care. i want you as close as possible”

• eventually stops the squeezing but still has a grip on your hip

• pepper his chest with kisses

• break out in tiny giggles when the silence becomes overbearing

• reminiscing first dates and kisses to fill the silence

(not proofread)

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids headcanons #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #seungmin #jeongin

[arieslost]

hi! oscar thought (or thot?): osc being super caring and soft during sex cause it's ur first time and he's just reassuring you and praising you the whole time and ur blushing so hard and he loves it 🤭

this genuinely had me giggling and kicking my feet in public omgomg.

18+ CONTENT under the cut, MDNI!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

first time | op81

oscar makes such a big deal out of it that you’d think it was his first time, not yours.

you’ve talked about it already, of course, and set a date (at his request, so he could “make it special,” to which you argued that it would already be special because it’ll be with him. the compliment fell on deaf ears). you thought he’d go the traditional route of taking you out on a fancy restaurant type of date, but he just tells you to come over to his place, which you find yourself enjoying much more.

he gets you flowers, cooks you dinner, and brings out a carton of your favorite ice cream for dessert. afterwards, you wash the dishes together. it’s obvious that he’s trying to make you feel as comfortable as possible by keeping up with your usual domestic routine, so you kiss him to show your thanks, and when he goes to pull away you don’t let him.

“we’re not in a rush, honey,” he whispers against your lips when you slip your hands under his shirt.

“i know. i just don’t wait to wait anymore.” you say, looking up at him through your eyelashes and lightly running your nails over the ridges of his abs.

“alright, if you’re gonna look at me like that…” he shoots you a playful grin before picking you up and carrying you to his bedroom, kissing you all the while.

your nerves only start to sink in when his fingers hook into your underwear. it doesn’t bother you when he removes your shirt, or your pants, even. but your underwear is the only thing fully separating the two of you, and oscar immediately notices the shift in your demeanor.

“is this okay?” he asks, not moving his hand but leaning forward to kiss you again.

“yeah,” you say quietly, nodding your head.

he watches your expressions like a hawk, gauging every reaction you have to what he’s doing with his fingers. he makes you come embarrassingly quick, but you can’t be too ashamed about it when you see how your physical responses to his actions are affecting him.

“oscar, please,” you reach for his pants, but he stops you.

“not tonight, honey. just wanna make you feel good, yeah?”

“i want you to feel good, too.” you say, feeling your face grow hot.

“don’t worry about me, let me take care of you.” he sheds the rest of his clothes, rolls on a condom, and crawls on top of you, smoothing your hair back from your face and pressing a long kiss to your lips. “if it hurts, tell me and i’ll stop, okay?”

you nod again, unconsciously tensing up when you feel him pressing against your entrance.

“just relax, honey.” oscar whispers, lips moving from your jaw down to the sweet spot on your neck. “hold on to me.”

you put your arms around him and close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of his lips against your skin as he starts pushing into you as slow as he possibly can. it’s more of a stretch, but the sting is still there, and you accidentally tense up again.

“sorry,” you breathe out, refusing to meet his eyes when he moves back a little to make sure you’re okay.

“don’t be sorry, you’re doing so well.” he says gently, lifting your chin. “just focus on breathing.”

you follow his instruction, regulating your breathing as he continues to push into you little by little until he’s fully inside you and you let out a sigh.

“feel okay?” he asks.

“mhmm. just- can we stay like this for a minute?” you ask, blushing harder from the awkwardness you’re sure the request is going to cause.

“‘course, honey.” he strokes your cheekbone with his thumb, tilting his head a little as he looks at you. “take as much time as you need. you’re doing so good.”

the praise makes you squirm a little as it goes right to your core and heats your body. oscar takes notice, and the playful grin is back.

“you like when i praise you?”

“maybe,” you mumble, sure your face is redder than a tomato at this point as you turn it away.

“look at me,” he coos, smiling wider when you listen. “that’s a good girl. such pretty eyes.”

“oscar,” you whine, pulling him closer so you can hide your face in his neck.

“pretty eyes, pretty mouth, pretty body,” he continues. “my pretty girl.”

you say his name again, but it comes out like a moan when he moves by accident.

“shit, sorry, baby.” he looks at you with wide eyes. “y’okay?”

“yes, please keep going,” you say, shifting a little to try and get him to move again.

he does, but continues to do it slowly, looking straight into your eyes as he does so.

you let out a little gasp when he begins to pick up his pace and hits a certain spot inside of you. “oh my god, oscar-”

“feel so good, honey. you’re so beautiful, doing so good for me.” he says breathlessly.

you can’t resist when he looks so good on top of you; you kiss him, threading your fingers into his hair. he moans into your mouth when you give his hair an experimental tug, allowing your tongue to meet his.

“oscar,” you say his name again when he hits that spot inside of you again, your jaw falling slack as he starts hitting it over and over again, keeping direct eye contact with you. you try to hold his gaze, but it feels so good that your head falls back against the pillow behind you. his quick reflexes allow him to grab the back of your neck so you don’t hurt yourself, his other hand going next to your head to keep himself upright.

“that’s it, baby,” he says, his lips skating across your collarbones. “you’re amazing, fuck.”

“i’m not even doing anything,” you manage to say, and he stops moving. “what-”

he tightens his hold on your neck, making you pick your head back up so you can look at him.

“look at me. really look at me.”

he looks like he always does: ridiculously attractive. but it’s something more. he’s covered in a light sheen of sweat, hair falling in front of his face, a bit of a rosy tint to his cheeks, and breathing heavily. he looks like a bit of hot mess, really. emphasis on the “hot.” you tell him that.

“i’m a hot mess because of you,” he laughs. “i have the most beautiful girl under me, wrapped around me, and you think you aren’t doing anything? i’m going insane right now, honey. i really don’t think i could be any more turned on than i am right now.”

“really?” you feel yourself blushing, again, at his words.

“really.”

“show me, then.” it’s your turn to give him a playful grin, and he groans.

“oh, i will. not even doing anything,” he mocks you with a scoff, and you don’t even get the chance to argue before he starts moving his hips again, reaching down to wrap your legs around his waist.

“holy shit, holy shit,” you babble, not used to the feeling enough for the sudden pleasure to be expected.

neither of you last much longer afterwards, and when you finally float back down to earth, oscar is there to kiss you and clean you up and wrap you in his arms.

“was that okay?” he whispers when the lights are off and he has you tucked in close to his chest.

“i don’t have anything to compare it to, but i guess it was okay.” he pulls away from you and you can just make out the how dare you look on his face. “i’m messing with you, oz. it was amazing. i love you.”

those three words have him melting back into you and pressing loving kisses to your temple and your nose in no time.

word count: 1,334 (wrote this in like two hours, it got away from me a bit lolz)

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: i hope this is okay and what you were imagining, you have the luck (or lack thereof) of being my first fulfilled request! lowkey hate the ending but its whateverrrr... im so obsessed with oscar guys its not even funny!!!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog

#aries answers #riv3rbank <3 #op81 week #full fic #request #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri smut #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 x you #op81 smut #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine

[kadwrites]

the color green | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; you've met tommy's secretary , who has a thing for him.

warnings ; mentions of death (no one dies), my bad writing?? probably typos, arranged marriage trope

a/n ; um idk what to think of this part but lmk what you think of it

-

he just looks back at you, his brow raised ,waiting for an explanation

"what?"

"what did ya say to 'er?"

"nothing, why ? what did she tell you?" you can't help the amused expression on your face, you did try to hold it back.

"she said you and polly cornered 'er"

"what" you let out a small laugh "all we did was speak to 'er, and it was mostly polly. she barely acknowledged me."

"really?"

"yes really."

"did ya tell 'er that we're engaged?" his voice was deep and cold. it sent a familiar chill down your spine.

"why ? did ya not want people to know?"

"answer the question"

"i didn't. polly did." you stare at him for a while, eyes tracing his face with a raised brow "are you fucking 'er?"

he blinks slowly, his demeanor doesn't change "i beg your fucking pardon?"

"ya heard me."

"no."

you study his face "we didn't say anything to 'er, polly asked 'er if she knew who i was, she looked me up and down like i was some whore and then almost cried when she found out you and i are engaged. thats it."

"we're not engaged yet."

"we are, according to your aunt. so if ya 'ave any fucking complaints , ya might want to take it up with 'er."

you try to walk past him, deciding that storming off is the best way out of this ,

"and how do ya think youre gettin' back home? polly is gone"

you freeze, stopping in place when you hear that, and he turns, just staring at your back.

"walking exists , ya know?" you turn as well to face him, you try to maintain the most confident expression you could muster

"you're gonna walk back? to your father's house? at this time?"

you just nod,

"no you're not"

"yes i am."

"no."

"why not?"

"what kind if fiancé would i be if i let ya walk home in the dark?." his voice is sarcastic

you just raise your brow again, "i thought we weren't engaged."

"go to my office, i'll drive ya home in a minute."

"ya don't 'ave to, i don't want your charity."

"go to my fucking office, y/n."

you mumble curses under your breath as you stride through and to his office, you open the glass door and plop down on the chair facing his desk. you can see the sectary's silhouette from the corner of your eyes. she's sitting on a desk outside his office and you walked by without sparing her a glance. you can feel her stare burn through you.

the door opens again and he walks in, and sits on his desk

"are we goin' to stay here long? cause i can call oliver to come and get me."

he looked up from the papers he was holding and his stare made you look away. okay maybe you'll let him drive you home.

the secretary knocks and walks in "i just need your signature on this form sir." she walks to his desk and gets as close as appropriately possible.

" y've met my fiancée then, miss carter?" he asks the secretary without looking at her

"i.." she stands straight and glances at you "i did , yes i did."

he looks up at her briefly "she might be comin' here more often now, so please make 'er feel at home whenever im not around."

"of course, sir." she smiles sweetly at him before grabbing the paper and walking out of the office.

you raise your brows, a small smirk on your lips "oh im your fiancée now , aye?"

he doesn't answer you, but you see the corners of his lips curl.

you stifle back a yawn as you sit on the sofa , trying to not to nod off. its the middle of the night and your brother had woken you up. safe to say tonight was not a night you've expected and its yet to end.

"how did ya even know about this?" you nod towards abraham who had a cup of tea in his hand

"mum called" he muttered as he handed you a cup as well

"its just a cold , ya know that? , ya didn't 'ave to leave anna and come all the way here."

"it's dad, i couldn't just sleep after 'earing mum cry about 'im"

"she cries about everything" you say with a sigh as you take a sip of your tea

the living room as dark except for a small lamp that was next to you

"did she call celest and oliver?"

"i think so, but they'll probably come by in the mornin'."

you hear your mothers sniffles as she leaves her and your father's bedroom.

"hes asking for you."

you and abraham look at each other before you put your tea cup down and get up from the sofa.

"come in"

you walk in and close the door behind you gently. your dad is propped up with a pillow behind him, you approach the bed and get on it, laying next to him

"ya better not give me another one of your speeches dad." you feign annoyance but your smile gives you away.

he lets out a laugh then turns to you "i'm an old man ya know, i 'ave to make sure i say everything i need to say before i leave ya."

"y've got a cold dad, its not the plaque " you chuckle as you turn to look at him too.

when you were a child, your father would never sleep if you got sick, he would stay up. sometimes fall asleep beside you, or on the uncomfortable hard wooden chair he'd drag next to your bed.

he would put his head on your heart sometimes late at night anxiously, scared it might've stopped when he accidentally drifted off to sleep.

"listen to me love..." his hands intertwine with yours, his hands calloused from all the days he's spent caring for the soil, or in the war that you never thought would end. "i need to talk about this."

you hum, your hand holding his tightly in yours.

"i'm sorry it had to come to this my love,"

its not another one of his speeches, its a different kind of speech.

"dad..."

"when your mother first told me about this, i thought she was jokin, honest to god" he lets out another laugh "but now..... when i think about it , i cant let ya do that to yerself love..." he shakes his head slightly,

"what?" your eyes look up at him, taking in his features , his dark under eyes, the lines on his face, around his eyes.

"i saved some money yeah? , for when me and your mother might need it. ya can 'ave it." his voice drops to a lower tone

"and do what ?"

"run away."

"run away?" you laugh softly, looking at him with a raised brow "and go where?"

"where ever you want." he smiles softly at you

"you're not serious."

"i am"

you stay silent for a while, processing what he's saying "im not runnin' away dad."

"so you're gonna marry tommy shelby? is that what ya want ? what ya truly want?"

"its what i need to do"

"ya don't"

"so you're gonna go back on your word ,aye? ya gave the man a word after all"

"for you , id break every promise ive ever made."

"dad..." you let out a small smile , his other hand goes to cup your face "i cant do that"

"are ya scared id hate ya? or that id be angry at ya if ya didn't?"

"i cant runaway dad... i cant leave ya" your emotions betray you and they flood through you, your tears start to drop. i cant not be here when you die, when you're buried.

"sometimes i cant believe you're all grown up now,"

"hmm"

"ya were such a lively child"

"you're sayin' im borin' now aye?"

you two share a small laugh, you turn your face and kiss his palm, before closing your eyes "id put myself through anything and everything to keep ya with me for however long i can."

-

@tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction #kadwrites

[hellsenthero]

Hot Under the Collar

Written by: hellsenthero

Azriel X Fem!Reader

A mandatory visit to the Illyrian war-camp takes a turn for the worst when three hot-headed males decide they want to send their High Lord a message.

Warnings/themes: Swearing, violence, blood, angst, fluff, sexist war camp.

MASTERLIST

-----

Azriel held you securely in his arms as he flew. The view of the trees and mountains was always breathtaking to you, so much so that you didn't mind the biting chill in the air that nipped at your hands and cheeks.

“I wish you could've stayed home.” Azriel spoke for the first time since you'd taken off from the House of Wind. It was a comment that had you peering up at him with furrowed brows.

“You don't want me with you?”

“God's no,” he breathed, his hazel eyes met yours and you could see the stress he was holding back. “Illyria is no place for females, Y/N, no place I want my mate near.”

“But you grew up there.” Azriel's hold on you tightened.

“Exactly.”

The rest of the flight to the war-camp was spent in silence. Azriel's Shadows twisted around the two of you in such an unsettled manner that you could practically taste his anxiety. When the camp came into view you gave Azriel a quick kiss on his cheek. “It'll be okay, Az, don't worry too much.”

You could feel the tension in the camp the second you landed. It had your nerves flaring like a spooked creature, but you knew as one of the Night Court's best healers you had a job to do here. Check the females, make sure their wings are intact, give them any remedies they require, be it for their cycles, pain relief, contraception, or anything else. Azriel was here to speak with Devlon to ensure he was sticking to the new training rules and as your protection as he all but refused to drop you off like Rhysand had originally suggested.

“Would you just drop Feyre off there and leave, Rhys?” Azriel had bit out when Rhysand called the meeting. Rhys looked pissed at just the thought of leaving his mate in the Illyrian war-camp.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then don't expect me to leave Y/N's side for a fucking second in that shit hole.”

“Shadowsinger,” Devlon greeted. His sharp eyes looked you over but he didn't bother to greet you. Azriel grit his teeth at the blatant disrespect towards his mate.

“Devlon,” Azriel said coolly, “this is Y/N, one of our Court's best healers,” he placed his left hand over his right, making sure his mating band was visible for Devlon and the other gathering fae. “She's also my mate. I expect there to be no issues with her checking on the health of the females here?” At the mention of mate the other fae backed up with wide steps, all but three males who stood side by side, glaring between the shadowsinger and you. You quickly committed their looks to memory before focusing back on Azriel. “We'll be staying at our usual cabin.” You caught Azriel saying.

“How long will you be staying?” Devlon asked.

You knew Azriel wanted to leave as soon as possible, but he instead answered with, “as long as it takes to ensure the females are healthy and cared for and that things are running smoothly.”

“We can care for our females ourselves.” Devlon bit out.

Azriel's hazel eyes narrowed. “You say that, but you've proven that to be untrue in the past.” Before Devlon could respond with a nasty remark of his own, Azriel slipped his arm behind your back and began leading you towards the cabin he more or less grew up in. “I'll meet with you just before dinner to go over specifics, Devlon.” Azriel called out without looking back.

“What a prick.” You hissed out as Azriel shut the cabin door behind the two of you.

Azriel let out a low hum of agreement. “He's the nicest male here.”

“I'll try to be quick,” you say in order to placate both him and yourself, “thorough, but quick.”

“Good,” Azriel breathed out.

—--

The next morning found you doing much the same as you had the evening before. Going cabin to cabin and checking on the females. You preferred to check on them in the comfort of their own homes, it made everyone more at ease and always allowed for the females to speak to you more freely about their health. By the afternoon you had to go back to your own cabin to make up more tonics for the female's cycles. You found out that when their cycle hit none of the males in the camp bothered to help get them soothing tonics for the pain they went through. Instead, they were told to deal with it.

With a grunt you slammed the cabin door shut out of anger as you got to brewing up more tonics. Azriel was in another meeting with Devlon and you were glad he wasn't there to see you fuming with anger. The treatment of the females in the camp made you want to scream and cry and you knew it would take a long while to decompress after leaving the Gods forsaken war-camp. Yes, Devlon had the females training and yes, they stopped the wing clipping, but the lack of equality within the camp had you nearly shaking.

You didn't bother turning around when the cabin door opened. Otherwise, you would have seen the three males standing in the doorway. Instead, you called out to who you thought was your mate. “If I'm seeing the improved version of the camp, then I can't imagine the horrors that went on here before.”

“I wouldn't say that this place has improved at all,” answered a deep voice. You shot up and out of your seat and faced the three winged males that you'd had your eyes on the day prior, the only three males who didn't seem to care that you were Azriel's mate and therefore, untouchable. “In fact, I think the camp’s gone to shit ever since your little mate and his High Lord introduced the new rules. I think we need to send them a message.”

“Get the fuck out of here.” You hissed as you scrambled to pull on the invisible golden thread tethering you to Azriel.

“Make us.” The second male hissed.

You looked to the ceiling and muttered a prayer.

“Praying won't get you out of this,” said the first male, a tall male with dark brown eyes.

You looked back down and locked eyes with him. “Oh, I'm not praying for myself.”

You threw yourself at the male just as the door burst open again on a shadow swept wind. Azriel had his hands around the third male's neck, snapping in with one quick movement before the male could draw his weapon. Azriel's shadows helped subdue the second male, keeping him in place as he took out Truth-Teller and stabbed in through the male's chest. The bond had Azriel wanting to carve his eyes out and slit his neck slowly for even thinking of hurting his mate, but now was not the time for a slow and painful death. As Azriel went to advance on the last male, he stopped. He stopped because before him, on the ground, was his mate, straddling the screaming male. Azriel watched as you clawed the eyes out of the first male. His screams of pain like music to Azriel's ears as you dug your sharp nails in further and further and further, until finally, the male grew quiet, and he stopped moving. You brought bloody fingers to the male's neck, checking for a pulse, and after a moment, you breathed a sigh of relief. “He's dead.”

Azriel looked at you with a mix of love, shock, pride, his many emotions flowing down the bond to you.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered as he helped you off the floor, he didn't mind the warm blood that slipped from your fingers onto his own. “Needed to get my anger out, that really helped.”

Azriel was speechless for a moment as he looked you over.

“Fuck baby, remind me to never get you angry.”

You laughed, a sweet sound that was out of place in a cabin full of bodies. “You know I can get a bit hot under the collar, baby.”

“Right,” Azriel answered with a small uptilt of his lips, “I'm going to go tell Devlon his three best fighters are dead. Once you're done here we're going straight home and I'm not letting you leave the bedroom for a fucking week. Got it?”

Your smile was enough of an answer, but you still nodded to Azriel. “Got it.”

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acowar #acomaf #azriel #azriel x female!reader #azriel x fem!reader #acotar azriel #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #shadowsinger x reader #azriel x reader angst #azriel x reader fluff #azriel x you #azriel x y/n

[dreamauri]

this completely goes with the last ask but the reader having a tattoo along her spine and Max puts whip cream along with and then licks it off

┇𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗗 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠 ? ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊   ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max vertsappen  x  fem! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( smut )  ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠word count — ( 886 ) ╰  🫧 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

The book you were reading was mildly interesting. With the sun barefuky peaking past the blinds of your room and Max's warm body pressed up against your back. You weren't complaining. His nose was nuzzled in your neck, and his arms were wrapped around your tummy. It was calming, listening to his breathing patterns and heartbeat.

It didn't take long till you felt Max pull away to lie on his back. What he usually says next indicates if he's asleep or awake. You have heard him maxolaining about how bad the Las Vegas GP while in his sleep, it's more common that he teaches you how to gear shift and drift though.

It's usually always about racing, and you found it intruiging and cute. He was driving his RB19 and drifting his golf cart in his dreams. Although this time you werent sure what to make of it. "Do we have whipped cream?" He must've been dreaming right? "Yeah, love. In the right door in the fridge." You nodded, pretty convinced that he was out.

And you were wrong. Putting your book down, you felt the bed dip before bouncing. Looking back you found the blond putting his boxers on. You turned on your back, reaching a hand out for him, which he took. Max kneeled on the bed, kissing your knuckles gently before your lips. "Keep reading, Shatje." [love]

You watched him walk put of the room confused, nonetheless going back to the book. You heard the fridge open and close and within seconds max was back in the room, climbing on the mattress and shaking the whipped cream can. You raised an eyebrow at him. Max never really showed and rebellion towards his dietary restrictions, what could he possibly be doing.

You were definitely not expecting him to flip you on your stomach. You were surprised, to say the least. "Max?--" You heard the loud shrrrrp before you felt the sweat on your back. More accurately, down your spine tattoo. You were about to ask what he was going to do when you felt his hot mouth on your skin.

A loud moan dripping from your mouth at the sensation of your lover practically sucking whipped cream of your spine and leaving heavy pickiest with it. You tried to get up, squirming a little. You tried to push the rest of the blanket away since it was only covering you waist under. "Max--" You called for him again, feeling yourself squirm.

"No fair." It came out as more of a whine as he continued to spray the topping on you before sucking it off. "Max, please." You whined again. "Please." You reached a hand back trying to hold him or something only to find your wrist held tight.

You weren't sure if you were still happy about getting the tattoo. It's been a few weeks since you walked out of the tat shop and Max has been stuck to your back since. You haven't even seen his face during sex because you're either always in reverse cowgirl or prone. You have to admit, you are practically jealous of your back at this point.

You tried to wriggle, turning in your spot. Max looked down at you with a pout, adjusting his weight over you so he could kiss you gently. You savoured it, kissing him back with your hands on his neck and shoulder. He tasted like whipped cream, you weren't really expecting another flavour on his tongue. But you enjoyed it. You didn't want to pull away.

"Schat." Max mumbled trying to pull away and turn you back over. "Noo." You whined, doing you best to stay up right. "I want kisses to. Not fair my back gets all the attention." Max chuckled at your behaviour, a small smile as he looked down at your pout. "You want me up right?" He asked, watching you lean up. "Mhm." You nodded, kissing all over his neck and his shoulders.

He held you from your jaw, pulling you in a rough kiss. Squeezed you eyes shut, your arched your body up to meet Max's only for hi to push you down. "Be a good girl." He said between kisses, pining your wrists by your head. You haven't even noticed that he'd pulled his boxers down until you felt his tip rest on your clit.

"We're gonna be quiet because the neighbours have guests over." Max reminded you, adjusting himself on top of you. You let him spread your legs and settle properly. You were already pretty warmed up from the events last night so it was an easy slip in. Max had covered your mouth with his hand as to muffle the loud moan.

He let go of your wrists, which immediately wrapped around his chest. The blond leaned down on his forearms till your bodies were pretty much pressed up into each other. The moans echoed in your mouth as the thrusts began, your eyes closing out of instinct. "look at you." Max whispered, picking up his speed with each thrust.

He a left a long kiss on the underside of your jaw, feeling the vibrations of your moans on his lips. Reaching for the whipped cream, he shook the can before spraying some in his mouth before leaning in for another rough kiss.

#‧˚⊹🪴 ଓ :: 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 ‧₊˚⤾ #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen #max #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #formula racing #mv1 #mv33 #max verstappen fanfic #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 fic #mv33 fic #max x reader #max x you #f1 fic #formula one x reader

[barefoothighlander]

septem peccata mortalia - lust

simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), sex pollen, cnc, unprotected pinv, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, creampie, biting, mention of blood, bit of anal fingering, praise, dacryphilia

masterlist

“Mantis, I don’t have eyes on that field”

Ghost's voice warns you through the device in your ear, your mind flipping between options, you’re target had run straight ahead, you could see him weaving around the tall grass, navigating holes in the dirt as you moved closer.

“He’s in my sights Ghost”

“Do not engage without backup”

You can hear the wind passing through his mic, he’s chasing behind you but you can’t tell how far, there’s already too much distance between you and the target.

“Negative, I’m going after him”

The plants graze against your skin as you move through them, brushing against your legs as you leave a trail of footprints in the mud. You can hear Ghost's voice in your ear yelling at you, but the blood pumping in your veins is too loud, carrying you closer to the man.

It catches you by surprise, the lack of air flowing to your lungs, you’ve trained for situations worse than this, you should be able to run less than a few miles before even feeling the slightest bit tired, yet your skin was dripping with sweat, your head on fire as your legs grow heavier.

“Ghost, somethings wrong”

“Fall back Mantis”

“I can’t, he’s right there”

You huff your breaths, moving your legs as fast as they’ll go as you try to catch up to the target until all of a sudden your skin feels like it’s on fire, every hair on your body standing on end like someone lit a match to your flesh.

“Mantis, where are you”

“Field, red flowers” It’s all you can manage through strangled gasps for air, your hand clutching your chest in an attempt to soothe the ache.

You give up, your body drained of its energy as you watch the target move further away, the anger of defeat settling into your body as you collapse to the ground, your knees digging into the mud as your body sinks lower.

You can hear him in your ear, his voice echoing as he draws closer to you, there’s panic behind his voice, a real worry about you.

“Mantis, do you copy, are you alright?”

“Hurts”

His body sinks beside yours, nervous hands ghosting over your form as his eyes scan your body.

“Where, did he hit you”

“No”

“What happened?” His eyes dart from your head to your feet, noting the way your chest heaves with every breath. “There’s no blood, what’s wrong”

“Hurts so much”

You squeeze your eyes shut, shifting your hips, trying to do anything to calm the ache in your muscles as your skin feels like it’s being burned.

“Okay, okay c’mon”

His arms scoop under your form, lifting you and keeping you pressed against him, his scent flooding your senses as you rest your cheek to his chest, your body moving with every step he takes.

He moves from the field, searching the terrain as his eyes land on a circle of large trees, placing you down to rest against the trunk of one.

“We need evac, somethings wrong with Mantis”

“Ghost, please, it hurts”

“What hurts, tell me so I can help”

You can’t find the words to describe the sparks in your lower stomach, your face flush as you come to terms with having to beg your Lieutenant to fuck you.

“Need you Ghost”

“Need me to what? Stay focused Sargent”

Your mouth dries as you try to form the words, heavy eyes gazing at his, the dark pupils staring back at you behind the mask.

“Need you, to fuck me”

It was like every synapse in his brain fired at once, combining confusion and desire, the words he’d longed to hear for so long escaping your lips but under the worst circumstances possible.

His hands plant on the sides of your head, tilting it and checking your pupils, he was sure you must’ve sustained some sort of head injury, your eyes blown out and your skin searing to the touch.

“Ghost, Simon, please”

“Is that what hurts?”

You nod weakly, adjusting your body for some kind of friction, his knee bend between your legs as he holds you still. Arching your hips your grind your core against his clothed thigh, nerves shooting up your spine at the contact, weak moans falling from your lips.

If he thought you were playing some kind of joke before, he was sure you were serious, watching you grind against his leg, your chest rising as your head falls back against the tree. He can feel the warmth from your core through your clothes, radiating against his thigh, feeling his pants grow tighter with each second.

“Does that feel good?”

His brain flips a switch, too consumed with the sight of you using him to get yourself off to be concerned with anything else, he’s dreamed about your noises, the way your face would scrunch as you fell apart under his touch, but now you were using him for your pleasure, he wanted to help.

“Keep doing that, harder”

You press your down harder against his thigh, the seam of your pants rubbing against your swollen clit as he watches you. He rocks his leg slightly, following your rhythm as your arousal seeps through your pants, leaving a wet spot between your thighs, making his cock twitch.

“Just like that, keep going love”

He presses his leg firm against your core, applying the right amount of pressure as you chase your high, hips circling as your chest blossoms, muscles tightening as your orgasm takes over your body.

He helps you ride your high out, moving his knee back and forth to allow you to come down slowly, his cock now painfully hard under his pants as you slump back.

“Feel better?”

“Need more, please”

His hands make their way under you, shifting your body to lay flat on the ground as he moves to sit between your legs, large hands working quickly to undo your pants, wasting no time in dipping below your underwear and gliding his digits through your folds.

He lets out a groan as his fingers collect your slick, smearing it around your cunt as you whimper, he grabs your legs, pulling them to his chest and takes off your pants, leaning over to bunch them under your head, providing some sort of protection from the elements as he pushes two fingers into you, feeling the way your pussy clamps down on him.

He pumps two digits into you, gliding them easily along your walls as his thumb rubs circles over your sensitive bud.

“That feel good? My fingers fucking you?”

You respond with a moan, hands reaching for his and moving them under your shirt, urging him to touch you. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, pinching the bud eliciting a yelp from you as your hips rock in time with his movements, your skin drenched in sweat as he works you toward your second high.

“Cum for me love, soak my hand”

Your mouth falls open, drunken moans escaping as his fingers knead your breasts,

“So beautiful, c’mon want to feel you cum”

His words send you over the edge, your pussy squeezing his fingers as your orgasm tears through your body, back arching from the ground, pressing your body further onto his fingers as you cum.

“That’s it, such a good girl”

He pulls his fingers from you, leaving an empty feeling in your chest,

“Better?”

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you shake your head, “More Ghost, please, need more”

“Alright love, I’ll give you what you need”

He watches drops of tears stream down tour cheeks, salty trails left over your flushed skin, he’d never seen someone so worked up he almost pitied you.

He could lie and say he was simply doing it for your benefit, to help you with your situation but he knew he couldn’t control himself, every dream that had him waking in a sweat for the past few months, the reminder of how the tips of his ears would turn pink when you’d lean over a desk or bend down to grab something, he’d never felt desire for someone like this, like he’d be at your beck and call every hour of the day, willing to do whatever you wanted as long as it meant he could feel you.

Every fibre of his being burned for you, almost as brightly as yours did at that moment, he had so many thoughts about what he’d do when he finally got you naked, but this, right now, was about you.

You bite your lower lip as he rigs his pants lower, the tip of his cock red and dripping as it springs free, a slight sense of panic as your eyes take in the size of him but the way your core aches for him drowns out any sense of doubt.

He drags his tip through your folds, stifling a groan as your slick coats him, his hand pressed firmly to your waist as you lock your legs around him.

“Don’t tease” You huff

“M’not gonna last long”

You reach up, grabbing the top of his tactical vest as you pull his face to yours, soft eyes and wet cheeks inches from his face, he wants to stay like this forever, his thumb tuning gently over the tears on your skin, collecting them before he places the digit on your lower lip.

You open your mouth, allowing him to push his thumb in, swirling your tongue around the digit, the salt on his skin mixing with your saliva.

His thumb holds your jaw open as he pushes his cock in, stretching you around his length as moans erupt from your throat, your fingers grip his vest holding him near you, letting his scent and sounds drown you as his cock stuffs you full.

He drags his length along your walls, allowing you a moment to adjust before you tug him to face you.

“Need it hard, please”

Without missing a beat he plunges his full length into you, his tip jamming into your cervix with every thrust as you arch into him, your heels digging into his back, driving him into you.

“Thought about this for so long, so goddamn perfect”

You tilt your chin to the sky, your body jolting with every thrust as he leans down, fingers pulling his mask to reveal his lips as they connect with your collar bone, neck, chest, anywhere he could reach he was trailing kisses.

“Touch yourself love”

You do as he says, snaking a hand between your bodies to trace over your clit, eyes squeezing shut at the stimulation as they well up.

“Just like that, doing so well”

Weak digits work your bud, lazy circles out of time with his thrusts, your band in your stomach slowly stretching but it’s not enough.

“More Ghost, need more”

He stops his movements for a minute, a single digit moving to part your lips, pushing in and exploring your mouth as you whimper around it.

He pulls his finger out with a pop, his cock still inside you as his other hand grabs your leg, flipping your body and tugging you up to your knees.

He teases the wet finger around your other hole, his cock twitching inside you as you arch your back for him, pushing your hips back to allow him access.

Slowly he pushes in, thrusting his length slightly as he reaches the first knuckle, listening to your noises.

“This what you need pretty girl both holes filled?”

“Yes, please, fuck me”

He pushes the finger deeper, watching your hole swallow the digit as he pumps his cock into you, slowly he pulls his finger, pushing it back in, allowing you to adjust before moving in time with his thrusts.

You’re stuffed to the brim with his cock while his finger works you open, your slick dripping from your core to coat your legs as his hips collide with your ass, using the last bit of your strength to steady yourself in the dirt.

“Want you to cum in me, please, need to feel you”

His balls tighten at the thought,

“Fuck, cum for me love, one more, squeeze my cock with your little pussy”

Your body melts into putty, every inch of skin slick with sweat as you turn your head to face him, watery eyes staring as he locks eyes with you, his lips are still visible, a piece of him you’d never seen before.

In a burst of strength you pull off him, turning your body and shoving him back as you climb onto his lap, weak hands on his shoulders as you sink down on his cock, leaning in to connect your lips. You bare your teeth into his lower lip, stifling the moan from your throat as his hands grip your waist, tugging you up and down his cock as he digs his heels into the dirt, thrusting his hips to meet yours, his cock slamming into you with brutal force.

You taste metal in your mouth, pulling back a drip of blood falls from his lips, mixing with the saliva that strings you two together, everything is too much, his hands holding you against him as he fucks you from below, his scent drowning your senses as his taste lingers on your tongue, it takes over your body.

You cum with a sob, your arms clinging to him as your body becomes putty, with one arm he tugs you against him, holding you down on his cock as his hips twitch, free hand grabbing your jaw to face him, his eyes softening as they glance as your wrecked form, puffy skin stained with your cries.

You watch his jaw tense as his grip tightens, his cock buried in you as his cum floods your walls, filling you with his seed while he stares into your eyes.

You fall against him, your head nestled into his shoulder as your nerves finally calm, your limbs numb on his form as he holds you, small kisses placed to your sticky skin.

“You’re alright love, did so well”

Your tears soak the shoulder on his uniform, leaving a patch of dark fabric as he helps you up, holding you to keep you steady, he helps you to tug on your pants, letting them fall loosely on your hips to avoid any contact with your pussy.

He scoops your body up before you have the chance to stumble, holding you to his chest as he moves, keeping his eyes on you instead of the terrain, more concerned with your well-being than anything else.

“It’ll be alright, I’ll get you home”

The time spent in the helicopter is a blur, the noises all meshing into one high pitched ring that didn’t subside until you fell asleep against his chest, your mind and body weak from the mission. You had slept for hours, your nervous system attempting to fight off whatever sort of chemical had entered it, your vision still a slight blur as you woke, turning your head to your surroundings, the room you were in had different lighting than the hospital wing at base, the bed your body lay in much comfort than the cots they issued.

There was no mechanical beeping, no strong scent of cleaning solution, instead it smells like him, you turn your gaze, he’s there, sitting in the corner, watching you.

“You’re awake”

You grumble an incoherent response, attempting to sit up as he rushes to your side, his hand flat on your back as he helps you, he reaches for the glass beside you, bringing it to your lips to help you drink, urging you to finish it before moving it away.

“What happened?”

“Some sort of chemical entered your system, they can’t tell what”

“S’that why-?”

“I think so, yeah”

You nod weakly, Ghosts shoulders slump slightly at your question,

“No hospital?”

“They kept you for a few hours but I didn’t want them poking around”

“So we’re now where?”

“My flat, I figured you could rest here”

“Oh”

“I can take you home if you like”

You shake your head, “Here’s fine”

“Right, I’ll make you some tea then”

He stands from the bed, your eyes following his movements,

“Simon”

“Yes love?”

“It wasn’t just the chemical”

You see his eyes crease under his balaclava, confirmation that you felt the same way he did, kneeling beside you his thumb traces over your cheek, now cool and relaxed rather than burning to the touch.

He lifts his mask from his chin, leaning forward to connect your lips, your hand moving to cover his as he grabs it, locking his fingers between yours.

He pulls back from the kiss, pressing his forehead to yours as he huffs a breath,

“Rest love, I’ll take care of you”

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod mw x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #mw2022 #simon riley fluff #simon riley x you #ghost smut #simon riley smut

[jobean12-blog]

Cozy in Love

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (Lumberjack AU)

Word Count: 1,572

Summary: Your man is the best way to keep warm when it's cold outside.

Author's Note: Just a bit of domestic lumberjack fluff and a bit of blantant oogling because let's be honest, if I had a Joel Miller lumberjack to stare at all day I WOULD! My daydreams are getting me through these days so I'm just sharing them. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely Daisy, thank you @firefly-graphics

Warnings: soft and sweet and cuddly and flirty and fun

Joel Miller Masterlist

His soft hair slips between your fingers as you mindlessly run them through his messy curls. He’s been asleep for the past hour, his head nestled in your lap, keeping you warm as you read your book.

Your hand moves down the back of his neck, lightly scratching before you slide your fingers along the edge of his beard. When your fingertips graze his lips, he extends them for a soft kiss and then grabs your wrist, holding your hand to his mouth as he presses kisses to your palm.

His eyes remain closed but his dark lashes flutter against his cheeks as he slowly wakes.

“Hey darlin’,” he murmurs with a small stretch.

You lean forward and kiss the back of his hand that’s holding yours. “Hi,” you whisper. “Have a good nap?”

“Mm,” he hums as his hand lifts and his warm fingers grasp the back of your neck to pull you closer.

After a sweet kiss he releases you and slowly sits up.

When you lock eyes your mouth turns up in a smirk as you take him in.

“What?” he asks, rubbing his hand over his face.

You giggle.

“Darlin’,” he grumbles and falls forward, wrapping you in his arms and taking you with him as he lays back down.

He stares down at you, now trapped under the weight of his body, and raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“Your hair,” you state and squeeze your lips together to try and stop more laughter.

“What about it?” he asks.

You reach up and pat some of the strands that are sticking straight up while pulling at the curly ones.

“If it looks a mess it’s your fault,” he says.

“I like it,” you whisper.

“Good, because we have to get to the store before the storm hits or you aren’t gonna have any snacks for the next few days. And I don’t feel like fixing my hair.”

“But Joeeeelllll,” you whine. “It’s cold out. And you’re so warm and cuddly.”

You tug him closer and nuzzle your face into his neck. “I don’t want to go,” you mumble into his skin.

“I can go myself darlin’. You stay here and keep warm.”

“NO!” you squeak. “It’s never warm enough without you.”

He pulls away and his eyes wander over your face. He’s clearly trying to figure out a way to make you happy and before he can offer more suggestions you sigh and say, “ok, ok, let’s go and get it over with so we can come home and I can get warm again.”

He gets up and starts to unbutton his flannel. You watch as his long fingers work open each button and reveal more of his skin.

“If this is your way to motivate me to leave the house you’re doing it all wrong,” you breathe out.

“It’s for you to wear while we’re out,” he says with a wink.

Once he has it off he drapes it over your shoulders and slips just out of your reach as you grab for him.

“If you start touchin’ me…,” he says with a warning look. “We’ll never get out of here and then when you’re hungry and we’re out of snacks we’ll both be in trouble.”

You huff as you dramatically push your arms through the sleeves of his flannel. “FINE!”

You can hear his chuckle as he disappears into the bedroom to get another shirt.

When you’re bundled up and buckled in the pick-up truck you head into town to the store. The parking lot is busy considering everyone is preparing for incoming inclement weather.

“They better have some good stuff left!” you pout.

Joel gives you a lopsided smile before he hops out of the truck and comes around to open your door. You slide out and into his arms.

“Come on darlin’, we’ll make this as quick as possible.”

You nod and snuggle under his arm.

As you make your way down the aisles and peruse the shelves, Joel pushes the cart, his smile growing with each snack you add.

“We should definitely get cookies…because cookies…and definitely some chips, and I want to get the ingredients to make muffins…and let’s make soup!”

You ramble on with your list but Joel remains silent, listening and keeping his smile.

“Think that’s enough?” you ask with a sigh of relief.

He stops in the aisle along the shelves of sugar and spice. “Perfect darlin,” he smirks, his eyes intense.

“What?” you ask with a suspicious glare.

“What nothin’,” he says as he leans over the bar of the shopping cart. “Just thinkin’ about how beautiful you are and how I can’t wait to spend the next few days stuck in the house with you.”

“Oh,” you say as his sweet words wash over you like a warm caress. “I can’t either.”

Back at the cabin he unloads the truck and ushers you inside.

“I’m just going to put these away then we can get right back on the couch,” you tell him as you practically skip into the kitchen.

“While you do that I’m gonna go chop the last of the wood darlin’. We don’t have much left and if the power goes out we’ll want a fire.”

“Are you saying you aren’t enough to keep me warm at night Joel Miller?”

Your response is dripping with sass and you waggle your eyebrows.

Your words stop him dead and his hands land on his hips as his jaw sets into a firm line.

“Is that a challenge?” he shoots back.

“Maybe,” you shrug.

“Mm, alright then darlin’. Forget the wood.”

You drag your bottom lip over your teeth before you quietly add, “but I love to watch you chop wood.”

His head drops toward his chest and his shoulders shake with his chuckle before he grabs his suspenders that hang over the hook on the coat rack.

“WAIT!” you shout as you round the island and rush to him. “Let me.”

The side of his mouth tilts up into a boyish smirk and he hands you the suspenders.

You reach over his head and put the band around his neck, flattening the material against his broad shoulders as you smooth the straps down his chest.

“Turn around,” you say softly.

He does as you ask and you clip the back part onto his jeans and then with a squeeze of his butt you turn him back around.

“Couldn’t resist,” you giggle.

“Don’t mind at all darlin’,” he winks.

When the front clips are secured onto his jeans you grab the two straps and tug him forward, meeting his lips half way for a kiss.

His hands settle on your waist and slip under your shirt.

“That’ll keep me warm…for now,” he murmurs against your lips.

When you break apart he starts for the door and you rush toward the front window and push aside the curtains.

“Hurry! The sun is going to set soon and I won’t be able to see!”

He shakes his head, his exasperation clearly feigned by the sparkle in his eyes.

“Wouldn’t want that now would we darlin’,” he murmurs.

“No…this is like foreplay.”

His eyes go dark as he holds your gaze and with one last grind of his teeth he opens the door and steps outside.

You press yourself to the glass, unperturbed by its coolness and stare as he saunters over to the woodpile. His profile is silhouetted by the last rays of the low hanging sun and when he starts to roll up the sleeves of his flannel you sigh dreamily.

When his forearms are free of the fabric he bends over to wrap his large hands around the handle of the axe. His warm breath comes out in wisps of condensed air before he rears back and takes one full swing to the piece of wood.

It splits in two with a crack and the pieces thud to the ground.

A moan slips past your lips and you wiggle on your feet, waiting for him to gear up for the next swing. You watch him take swing after swing, the pile of chopped wood growing with every passing minute.

When he gets to the last piece he rests it on the tree stump and then sets his axe down against it. He reaches in the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out his handkerchief, wiping his brow and the back of his neck.

He wraps it around his hand then reaches for the axe again. The last piece of wood splits just as the sun reaches the horizon and he begins to gather as many pieces as he can carry.

He turns toward the cabin, walking slowly with arms laden with chunks of wood, his corded forearms flexing and his jeans pulled tightly over his powerful thighs.

A gust of wind moves across the yard and blows his hair over his forehead and the collar of his shirt spreads open even wider, exposing more of his muscled neck.

Your whole body is thrumming and before he reaches the porch you’re at the door and holding it open. He strides past you and sets the wood down by the fireplace.

“That should do it,” he says as he wipes his hands.

His eyes sweep over you from head to toe as he wears a perfectly smug smile, knowing full well he’s got you hotter than any fire ever could.

@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @lorilane33 @littleseasiren @lizette50

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #lumberjack!joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #lumberjack au #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

[pictureinme]

kinktober day xxvii. COCKWARMING - thomas shelby

word count: ~800 tags: d/s dynamics, bratty reader, sir kink, riding, choking, unsafe sex masterlist | ao3

“What’re you getting all antsy for, love?”

You squirm on Thomas’ lap, the discomfort of only being allowed to sit on his length was far too much for your desperate mind, “Please, can’t I just move a little?”

Chuckling, he shakes his head, “You promised to sit still like a good girl, so that’s what you’re going to do.”

Letting out a huff, you lean your cheek on his shoulder as he continues to write in the ledger. You weren’t paying attention to whatever work he was getting done, you only wanted to wait it out until he either pitied you or got desperate himself.

You had approached him in your nightgown earlier, beckoning him to bed with your most alluring of looks– but Thomas was not the kind of man so easily strayed from his work, even by his own wife. You swore to him that you wouldn’t cause a distraction, so long as he let you keep his cock warm. It was becoming increasingly hard to keep that promise.

With a few movements you could chalk up to ‘getting comfortable,’ Thomas sighs deeply.

“Alright, is there a miscommunication or something, doll?”

Shaking your head, you stay leaning against his shoulder, “No, nothing of the sort– just trying to get comfortable, ‘s all…”

Thomas pulls you by your collar like a petulant child, and looks at you just the same, “Then stop fucking moving.”

Your eyes widened at his gruff tone, and it was hard to fight down the pleased grin that came so easily when he was so close to taming that bratty fire within you.

“I just wanted to make you feel good while you work,” his grip loosens on your collar, allowing you to lean closer to his chapped lips, “Nothing wrong with that, is there, sir?”

“Alright,” you think for a second he’s succumbed to your toying until his calloused fingers grip tightly onto your thighs. You yelp as Thomas pulls you flush against his hips, his length now fully seated inside of you. “If you want to play that game, we will– but we both know very well how you’ll end up, love.”

He doesn’t allow you the grace of responding before he’s lifting you up off of his length, only to bring you back down with a speed that dizzies you.

“Distracting me from my important work,” Thomas groans, his gaze held only where the two of your bodies repeatedly joined, “Fucking brat, needing her fill every damn minute…”

You feel yourself nodding in affirmation as he curses under his breath at you– this was exactly what you wanted. Starting to meet his thrusts, you whimper, “Fill me up so good, Tommy, please– ah!”

He keeps one hand on your hip as you continue to ride him, but the other immediately clamps onto your throat, “What happened to your manners? That’s not what you call me, and you know it.”

Not stopping in your grinds against his hips, your eyes roll back as he applies even more pressure, “Sir, sir!”

“That’s a good girl, there we go.”

Thomas doesn’t let go of your throat but allows you to breathe more freely as he thrusts up into you again. You smile as the hand that was holding your hip sneaks down to rub at your clit– his fingers so close to bringing you to your long-awaited peak.

“You think you deserve to come after this little stunt, love?”

Whining, your eyes clamp shut in frustration, “Please, fuck, I just missed your cock so bad, sir… been waiting all day!”

“Too bad,” he tuts, rolling your clit gently between his fingers, “You’ll take my seed and that’s all you’re getting tonight.”

You thought he would relent in his teasing, but it only speeds up as do his thrusts– Thomas wanted you holding back your release to hurt as much as possible. Your body convulses as it feels the stimulation quickly becoming too much to fight against. Nonetheless, you ride him until he tells you to stop.

“There’s my good girl, come on, fuck–!”

His chest heaves with every stuttering thrust as he releases inside of you, both of his hands coming to pull your face to his in a kiss. You melt in the loving touch, and forget to hold back the dams of your release– Thomas immediately knows by the way you clenched around his softening arousal. He separates the kiss, a single strand of saliva still connecting the two of you.

You look into his unreadable eyes as your own reflect back with pure regret, with a twinge of anticipatory masochistic pleasure.

“Don’t even think about moving ‘til I’m hard again,” he whispers harshly, hands moving back down to the base of your neck. “Then we’ll see about your punishment.”

#thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #thomas shelby smut #cillian murphy smut #kinktober 2023

[dashitsxx]

if only | various male characters x fem!reader | mha

summary. Maybe leaving him wasn't the best decision to ever do.

genre. dark. explicit smut. nsfw. 18+

word count. 1.7k

characters. aizawa shota (eraserhead). chisaki kai (overhaul). takami keigo (hawks). todoroki touya (dabi).

warnings. dubcon/noncon. all in an established relationship. quirk au. vulgar language. cunnilingus (aizawa). rough fuck. penis in vagina sex. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. creampies. stomach bulge (dabi). manhandling. forcing. evident male dominance. yandere themes. possessive. obsession. mentions of killing (dabi). selfish behaviour. egoistic behaviour. indicated the use of quirk. breeding kink (dabi). praise kink (dabi).

notes. finally done with this! been itching to post this as quick as possible. i definitely didn't like how i wrote them but enjoy sluts, tried to make it spine-shivering as much as possible! reposting 'cause i found out that tumblr didn't kind of added it into the no. of my posts?? idk why

shota aizawa (eraserhead) — If only you weren't clumsy enough.

Oh love. That was the biggest mistake you have ever made to him. Do you think that you could easily slip away from his sight? Oh my. How dumb of you. You may have a strong quirk but it doesn't surpass his level... and he'll make sure to let it stay that way.

A trembling shaking rattled on the bedframe as you arched your back from the pleasuring sensation. Pants and moans vibrate against the wall of the room. No matter how much you want to try to push the head away from your cunt, your hands prevented you from doing so as it is tightly tied by his binding cloth, whereas with each forceful pull you create, it suddenly stiffens its fabric.

You moan loudly as you squirm under his touch. "Stop moving," he ordered in a vicious tone. Then, a warm wet long stripe was placed on your cunt, making you hold your breath. A strangled moan left your lips as you attempted to break the cloth that was chaining you.

"I-I can't—ah! No, n-ngh! Ah! no, s-stop. Aizawa!" you exclaimed, panting in the process.

"I said stop squirming." he painfully held your hips in place as he halted his motion. Your eyes slide down to him as you find him with a raging fire, "You wouldn't been in this position if only you had been obedient to me."

Then he slowly rises from his position as he continue to glower down at you, "You know you can't escape from me, love."

You heard a rapid swish of fabric as you found your legs bound up in a lewd position, wide open for him. "N-not like this! A-Aiza—" A painful feeling slapped your pussy which made your back arch. "Shut up."

A sinful smirk slowly formed on his lips. Who would have thought that his fantasies would come true? He was thankful that you attempted to escape, but it still does infuriate if you wanted to leave him. He didn't like that idea, nor would he let it happen. Maybe... it is time to mark you.

Then, he quietly placed his hands on the middle of his pants before unzipping it. A look of fear and shock was evident on your face as you knew what it meant

"Aizawa! No, no, no!" you attempt to back away from the raging man, but he grabbed your thighs and pulled you down to him to let you feel his hardened cock with your bare vagina—you moaned at the sensation. Pride was evident on his face as he spoke in a possessive tone.

"I'll always find you, love."

kai chisaki (overhaul)— If only you were fearless.

Darling, darling, darling. Why did you ever think that you would be able to escape from his grasp? He didn't do all those cheesy courtship with no purpose just for you to leave him. He did it all in his satisfaction to have you caged within him despite that you were a great benefit to the yakuza. Hence, you are his possession—and there is no way for you break free.

"Fuck—so... t-tight. Fucking tight." A deep growl emitted from his chest as he thrusts his fat cock into your gummy walls. You moan from your taped mouth and warm tears fall on your cheeks from the overstimulation.

A pleasured moan left his mouth as he stared down at you, a contemptuous smile was plastered on his face. You looked so pretty taking his godly size dick—it fits well with your pussy. Although he's been fucking you for who knows how many rounds, his rage hasn't been satiated yet.

The fact that you tried to leave him really fucking blood-boiled him. He has never felt this way after the heroes attempted to meddle in his business. Upon the thought entering his mind, his eyes darken immediately as he pushed the back of your thighs to your chest.

Your felt your eyes widen at a new sensation as your chest rose, heaving at the new position he put you into. It was the position you knew that would make you feel his size.

Feel him more.

You attempt to push his hands from your thighs with your taped wrists, but it keep slipping off from the body sweat formed. Then, he harshly flicked his hips onto you. Your body jerked as you felt the tip of his dick kissed your womb.

The smile remained on Kai's face as he leaned forward, "Feel that, darling? You're not dumb enough to know what it means." a chuckle erupted from his chest as he pulled out until his tip before slamming back deeply, making your body jerk again and a moan leaving your lips.

Then a sudden shivers crawled on your body under his, making his cock more slick from your cum. Kai lets out a short deep laugh before he slides his hand from your thighs to your clit, having one of your legs hanging on his shoulder.

You try to take in deep breaths as your eyes make contacts with his lust-filled ones. He tilts his head slightly with a naughty smirk.

"You can release one more, right darling? After all, you deserve this punishment."

takami keigo (hawks) — If only you weren't slow.

Sweetheart, you knew that you could never outrun him—so, why did you still do it? You are one dumb girl with a mediocre quirk, but he still loves you. It's just that your stupid mind persuaded you to leave him. Says who? He gave you no order about that—in fact, you have no rights to step away. Once he laid his eyes on you, he knew that he had to fly and catch you.

"Ngh-ah! Fuck! K-Keigo!"

"That's it. Moan my name, sweetheart."

He grabbed your hips before pulling it to his hips with a tight grip, hitting your g-spot perfectly. You hiss at the sensation as you gently place your forehead on the wall, trying to catch your breath. Hawks continued to thrust in your pussy, but it wasn't the usual way he does. He never would have acted so rough to you if you hadn't tried to hide and run away from him.

It aches his heart to put you in this position, but you need to learn your lesson.

Pants and groans escaped his lips as he pushed you more to the wall, drunk in bliss. He snakes his arms around your chest, grabbing one of your tits to twist your nipples and waist to hold you—he wants to feel your skin. Only moans are emitted from you as you try to pull away from him while clawing his arms.

"Ah, ah, ah. Sweetheart, you'll only make it worse. Hah... s-shit. J-Just allow me–ngh–to fuck you like this," he pauses as he pulls his hips until his tip is in you before slamming it deeply to your cunt, you arch your back greatly as you moan—uttering curses beneath your breath. "You'll eventually like this..."

Yes, you will like this. He'll do anything to keep you and a good hard fuck may help him hinder your ability to walk and run.

Maybe, that is a good idea—it'll let him keep watch of you. The thought of that made him more aroused as he slowly quickened his pace. Yet, you were too fucked up in pleasure to notice the malicious intent your boyfriend had in mind.

But it's okay, as long as he has you—he'll do anything.

"Sweetheart, you know I am the only man for you, oh—ngh? Ah—fuck... hmm, right?"

todoroki touya (dabi) — If only you were strong enough.

Dilly dally doll, such a beauty you are. Yet, you are such a fucking pain in the ass. You dare to escape from him—were you insane enough to consider that he'll never find you? Doll, you are wrong there. You have such a weak body with a weak quirk, he definitely doesn't want you to go to unknown places because he actually fucking cares about you. Maybe... there is another method to keep you by his side.

Deep grunts and vulgar words escaped the scarred lips of the villain as he gripped your plump sides, shooting thick ropes of white sticky liquid in your womb.

"Take it all like a good girl, doll. That's it." he licked his lips in satisfaction as he watched the erotic scene before him.

You look so pretty under him, just being a perfect cumdump for him. Although, he just hated your pettiness—who told you that you could leave him? Just because he accidentally put on a show of his ruthless killings of heroes in front of you, you had the nerve to escape. He is just doing his job, it's not really a big deal.

His eyes darken at the thought.

He pulled his dick out of your swollen pussy, letting the cum leak from your hole and giving a painful smack on your ass. A smirk forms on his face as he slides the leak sensually back into your hole, "That's the right place. Keep it in, doll. I really don't want you to piss me off again after that silly little stunt you've pulled."

You yelp in pain when you feel a stinging heat place on your clit as you comply with his order, carrying your body in a doggy position.

A boost of confidence fires in Dabi's core as he looks at your pussy clenching to hold his essence in you. But his ego wasn't the only one that fired in you, his huge cock was standing up again. He contemplates methods

Maybe, there is a way to let you stay with him.

Before you even attempted to get up from your bruising position, your face was suddenly pushed on the bed mercilessly, your ass at a higher height with an inviting pussy, and you felt a prodding tip in your entrance as it was gone in.

A loud moan from you echoed the room smelled of sex and sweat as Dabi let out a hiss to your tightness even if your mixed essence with his served as a lube.

"Touya! Wait, I-I just came!" you exclaimed, turning your head to the side.

A deep chuckle emitted from his chest as he snapped his hips against yours. You felt a protruding bulge on your belly when he snapped, jerking your body in reaction. His eyes held a purpose behind those lust and temptation as he leaned down, marking you with hickeys.

"I need to make sure that my baby mama doesn't waste a drop of my cum. I am certain you'll be a great mama, doll."

all dividers are from @cafekitsune, thank you <33

#dashitsxx #eraserhead smut #overhaul smut #dabi smut #hawks smut #dashitsxx.devil #dashitsxx.nightmare #dashitsxx.ifonly #dashitsxx.io #dashitsxx.aizawa #dashitsxx.overhaul #dashitsxx.hawks #dashitsxx.dabi #shota aizawa #aizawa shota #mha eraserhead #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #mha overhaul #takami keigo #keigo takami #mha hawks #todoroki toya #toya todoroki #mha dabi #mha smut #bnha smut #yandere mha

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: I slept for like ten hours and it was fucking wild.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You watch the long needle slide out from under your skin. You don’t feel it much. That man, Lloyd, loops the tube around the IV bag stand. You sit in the bed still, disoriented and dull. You can feel the tension buzzing off of him, as if he’s holding himself back. That scares you more than anything he’s done. 

Before you can say or do anything, your stomach growls. The tumble is painful as your insides squeeze violently. He looks at you and takes your hand, tugging you towards the edge as he snickers. 

“Hungry, jellybean?” He teases, “come on. I’ll make you a nice omelet.” He pulls until you shimmy across the bed. You turn your legs out and can’t help but use his strength to stand. He’s patient as he easily hauls you up. “You okay, babykins? I could carry you. Like before.” 

“N-no,” you try to wiggle your hand free but his grip is unbreakable. He squeezes and you quit your resistance. 

“You might be a bit groggy, that’s normal. The smoke, the meds--” 

“Meds?” 

“Well, I slipped a bit extra in the bag,” he shrugs as he glances over at the IV, “just so you could sleep.” 

You look at him, your horror burning from your eyes. He grins proudly and swings your arm, turning to lead you to the door. You take short steps, muscles stiff and achy, shoulders wracked from sleeping on your back. You look down at yourself and shudder; at least you’re still wearing your own clothes. 

“I’ve been doing cooking classes. I can do a florentine that will blow your tits off,” he boasts as he angles you through the door. 

The hall is airy and echoey. The house must be huge. You get that sense easily. You don’t need to go around and count the rooms. He takes you down the long hallway and you stop at the top of a set of stairs. They bend in the middle but more corning, there’s a large space between each. They’re polished to a shine and look slippery as the morning reflects off of them. 

“Just a step at a time,” he goads as you latch onto the railing.  

You put a foot down and grip both him and the railing. Another tide of wooziness comes over you. It could be what he gave you or your days of restriction, but it’s too much. The world is too much. 

“That’s it, baby,” he coos as you take a second step down.  

This is strange. It reminds you of a movie you watched as a kid with a maze and twisting and turning walkways and a taunting villain. You’ve awoken in his trap and you see no escape in sight. 

You slip on the third and let out a squeak as you feel yourself falling. He’s quick to catch you, scooping you up easily even in the narrow space. He lifts you and continues down swiftly, bringing you onto flat ground. You murmur and rub your head as you feel his heartbeat against your arm. 

You feel a tickle in your hair and hear him take a deep breath. Is he smelling you? You repress a shiver at the thought as your eyes struggle to focus on the shapes all around you.  

He carries you into another room, a kitchen, as spacious and sleek as any other part of the strange house. A white marble counter lines two walls and wraps around into full C, marking off the cooking space. On the other side, there’s glass table in an abstract, asymmetric shape with metal frame chairs around it. The whole place is out of one of those design magazines. All impractical at the expense of aesthetic. 

He sits you in one of the chairs, it’s just a rigid as you expect. He stays bent, holding you by the shoulders until your hold yourself up. He drags his hands down your arms as he reluctantly pulls away. You flutter your lashes and rub your eye sockets, trying to block out your reality. 

“My sleepy bean,” he beams and plants a kiss on the top of your head. “So how about it? Eggs florentine? Or are you in the mood for something a bit sweeter? I’ve perfected my crepes.” 

You grumble and drop your hands slowly, crossing your arms as a chill rolls through you. You feel it pricking in your chest and across your skin. You’re not wearing a bra and your tee shirt is thin. You keep your arms locked. 

You listen to him moving around. You don’t know what to do. You’re too weak to do anything. Even if you could get on the other side of the walls, you have no idea where you are. Where help could be. 

You rock as your fear bubbles up. Why is he doing this? Why does he think you want him? Why you? Of all people. You mind your business, you keep your head down, eyes to yourself... you don’t deserve this. 

You glance over at him as he starts to hum. Your lip quivers as you watch his shoulders blades stretch the fabric of his shirt. He’s a bit ridiculous in a full set of satin pajamas, the dark black speckled with a subtle grey leopard print. He’s too much. 

You turn your head straight and let it hang. You resign yourself to helplessness. You have to be logical about this. You can’t spark his suspicion to soon. You have to wait for a window and then... figure that out, you guess. You don’t like uncertainty. You have a routine and you keep to it. That’s what keeps you safe. Or so you thought. 

“...wise men say, only fools rush in...” he sings softly and you wince. The lyrics of the Elvis ballad make your skin crawl. He’s actually deranged. You don’t know him, you're strangers. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I know tree nuts are a no go,” he chimes as he whisks, turning to you with a broad smile.  

You blink at him. How does he know that? 

“Don’t think you’ll be needing any but I also got penicillin on the no go list and the latex thing... there’s alternatives,” he chuckles and you furrow your brow. “How’s that ticker doing? You been taking lots of iron?” 

Your body hollows out. How much does he know about you? How? You can guess he’s snooped around your medical records. Obviously, he’s a man with criminalistic leanings. Is this even his house? Has he taken you to a fortress he commandeered by force? Is there some terrified family bound in the basement? Is there a basement? 

He continues to futz around the kitchen as you curl your shoulders down and chew on your lips. Speaking of your heart, it’s beating again, racing, almost painfully. You’re a mouse trapped in the corner by the feline with his bristly whiskers. 

Your eyes wander over to the large windows and you stare out at the curated landscape. The property is beautiful and lush. You imagine a whole team maintains the perfectly trimmed hedges and colourful blooms. The stone mosaic pathway and the leafy archway over a bench. It’s like a dream, more so, a twisted nightmare painted in hues of fantasy. 

A plate clinks down before you and a sweet aroma brings you back inside. You face forward as Lloyd steps back on his heel, watching you with anticipation. You look at him then the plate. He pulls out a chair and plops himself down, planting his elbow as he cups his chin and watches. 

“Let me know what you think,” he insists. 

You take a breath and unlock your arms. Slowly, you drag them apart and take the thick butter knife and long fork. The cutlery feels too big for your small hands. You lean forward as the drizzle of dark syrup across the rolled crepe lures you in. Your stomach roars noisily and he giggles. 

“Aw, you must be starving,” he muses, “please eat, baby, I don’t want you to ever go hungry again.” 

You exhale through a ripple of disgust. You cut into the thin crepe and into the filling. Slice off the end of the roll and scoop it up with the filling. You carefully open your mouth around the fork and take a bite. Your eyes flit up to meet Lloyd’s as his gaze sticks on you. There are flames in his blue irises. 

You pull your mouth off the fork in embarrassment as he hums. He’s a weird, weird man. All of this is weird. Surreal. 

You look down at the butter knife and contemplate the gold cutlery. It’s heavy, it would hurt if you used the handle to give him a conk, but the blade is too dull to do much. It can slice through a crepe but wouldn’t do much on meat and bone. You don’t think you could do it, either. The thought of hurting others is just unnatural. 

“Is it good? Tried my own combination,” he explains happily, “dark chocolate syrup, not too much sugar, some softened cream cheese in the middle with black cherry jam.” 

You swallow and look around for something to wipe your lips. Short of a napkin, you lick your lip and clamp them together. He shifts in his chair, an act that makes you feel uncomfortable. 

“Good,” you croak. 

“Oh, wait,” he stands suddenly, “your coffee. Oopsie.” 

He struts away and your stomach mulches the single bite greedily. As much as you want to be stubborn, you’re so hungry. And it’s delicious. It’s better than your usual flavourless fare. You could gobble it all down in a second but you won’t. You carefully cut out another bite as he returns with a tall mug.  

He puts the cup down by your plate. You gulp down a forkful and set down the cutlery. You consider the mug before you take it, the white porcelain marked with the golden outline of a rose above the letter ‘Mrs.’. He has another in his hands, black but with a bowtie above ‘Mr.’. What the hell? 

“Colombian dark roast. A little less caffeine so your heart won’t mind so much,” he says. 

You nod and take the cup. The thought of coffee is enough to override your agitation. You take a sip and hold back a sigh. It’s good. You hate all of this but it’s all so good. You put the cup back and return your attention to the crepes. You pause and glance up at him. He doesn’t have a plate, just his cup. 

“Oh, jellybean, you’re so sweet,” he smirks, “I gotta keep my protein up. I’ll have some eggs and a shake soon. Right now, you just worry about you.” 

You dip your chin down and focus on eating. Small bites. You don’t want to seem too greedy. You don’t want him to see how much you need this. Does he know everything? Of course, he was watching but did he know the days you spent feeling as if your stomach was eating itself? 

He pushes his hair back, trying to tidy the long strands as he watches you, “we’ll get washed up after breakfast. Then you can get settled in and relax. I’ll take care of everything else, alright? You just need to get all dolled up when the time comes,” he explains as he drags his fingertip around the tabletop, “not that you need to do very much.” 

You just chew. What can you say or do? This man is straight up crazy. Not only are you his prisoner, he’s been stalking you. It doesn’t matter when it started, look where it’s ended. No, this can’t be the end. 

“What’s...” you speak before you can think. You shake your head and smother your question with another bite. 

“What? Go on, sugar lips, ask me anything? You wanna know my favourite colour? My favourite song?” His cheeks tint pink as he plays with a button on his pajamas. 

You clear your throat and put down the fork and knife, “what’s going on... later?” 

He tilts his head curiously. 

“The... dress and... doll up?” You repeat his words flatly. 

“That’s a surprise,” he trills as if it should be obvious. “Don’t wanna spoil it, do we?” 

“I guess,” you sit back and fold your hands in your lap. 

“You don’t gotta think about anything, sweet cheeks. You leave the thinking to me. I’m gonna take care of you,” he avows as his hand stretches across the front of his satin shirt. “You just gotta be you.” 

You feel his gaze bearing down on you. You peek up to find his eyes slipping down and you feel them centre on your tee shirt, your nipples poking against the cotton. You hunch your shoulders and cross your arms again. 

“How’s the coffee, jelly bean? You like it?” He tears his attention from your chest. 

“Good, thank you,” you murmur. 

“Ugh, I love hearing your voice,” he puts his coffee down and reaches between his legs. You blanch as he drags his chair closer as he lifts himself. He puts his hand on your knee, stroking with his thumb, “will you call me ‘honey’?” 

You stare at him. Your cheek draw tight and your lips flatten. You want to shake off his touch and scream but that foggy glaze in his eyes deters you. This man is wild. 

“Okay, er,” you gulp tightly and cough, “honey.” 

He hums into a sigh and his hand slips higher on your leg before trail back down, “oh,” he shakes his shoulders, “that tingles. Do it again.” 

You fight not to let your true emotion blaze through. You hug yourself tighter and bite down before you can muster the word, “honey.” 

“Oh, baby, that’s nice,” he winks and sits back, eyes grazing up and down your body, “you cold? You’re all twisted up like a pretzel.” 

You nod. It's an excuse you’ll gladly take. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner, jellybean?” He stands suddenly and you notice the way he tugs on the waistband of his pants. You turn your head, blurring your vision so everything around you is vague. 

He rushes off and you wait. You don’t know what else to do. You’re still too weak to make a move. Whatever he gave you is potent. Or maybe, you’re just too scared to do more than shrink and surrender. 

He returns with a fluffy purple robe in his hands. He comes around the back of your chair and you lean forward to let him drape it around you. He curls his hands over your shoulders and bends over you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“You need more coffee, baby cakes?” He asks as he kneads your shoulders. 

“Still working on it,” you pull away from him and grab the cup, “thank you...” you let the words dangle in the silence, tension piquing, “honey.” 

He sighs and draws away with a tickle up your neck, “mmm, isn’t this wonderful?” 

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #the quiet ones #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series

[sweetercalypso]

Please can you write about being catcalled when you’re with Joel? Like what do you think he would do?

wc: 0.7k cw: threats/slight violence, suggestive comments

Life in Jackson is quiet.

It’s reminiscent of a time that not many remember. Fit with a heavy artillery of patrolmen and a clinic and a working bar, Jackson made it easy to pretend that danger was no longer a concern.

Some of the men in the community weren’t so well-adjusted to easy living, and learned to find the familiarity of violence wherever they possibly could.

Walking back from Tommy’s house one evening, you’re reminded of how pervasive the threat of humanity can be.

Joel leads you home after dinner with his family. Ellie had stayed behind at Maria and Tommy’s with promises of hot chocolate and a new book that Tommy had procured on patrol the week before. You’re wrapped around Joel’s arm, giggling at whatever nonsense story he was murmuring into the quiet air when a sharp whistle kills the hazy warmth of the night.

Standing alone in the pale-yellow light of a streetlamp, one of the men from a group of newcomers stares darkly at you and Joel as the two of you pass by. His eyes had been stalking you from the time you turned the corner, like he was waiting for the perfect time to make his move.

“Lookin’ good, baby. I’d love to get a piece of that ass.”

Joel stops dead in his tracks like he’d been scorned by the man’s words. It was obvious the stranger was looking to pick a fight, and Joel was not the type to let a remark like that go.

“The fuck did he just say-”

“Ignore ‘em, Joel. He’s just trying to rile you up.”

Your grip on Joel’s sleeve tightens to give the man a chance to reconsider. Maybe he didn’t mean to offend you and he’d apologize. Maybe he’d realize who Joel was and he’d run away. Maybe –

“Let me know when the old man croaks, sweetheart. I’ll show you how a real man takes care of a pretty thing like you.”

Joel whips around abruptly with rage in his eyes and tears his arm out of your grasp before you even realize what’s happening.

He pounces on the man and grabs him by the collar, pushing him backwards until he smacks into the wall of the building behind him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Joel snarls.

He slams his hand against the faded brick, barely missing the side of the man’s face with his palm. Too stunned by the scene playing out in front of you, you’re frozen where you stand in the middle of the street.

Realizing that he had made a mistake, the man puts his hands up in surrender, opening his mouth to speak when Joel cuts him off.

“If I hear another word out of your mouth, I’ll knock your head clean off your shoulders. You got that?”

He nods frantically, clearly aware that he’s not in the position to argue.

“Don’t ever talk about my girl like that again – or any woman here, for that matter. This ain’t the kinda place where people let that slide.”

Barely an inch separates the two men as Joel barks abuse at the creep until he’s red in the face. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him this upset.

“You so much as look at her again and you’re dead. D’you hear me?”

The man shakes his head in acknowledgement, too stunned to respond.

Joel yanks him forward and away from the wall, almost throwing him to the ground from the rough force he uses. He holds the man at arm’s length, speaking loudly enough for you to hear him where you stand a couple paces away. “Good. Now tell her you’re sorry.”

The man meets your gaze over Joel’s jacket clad shoulder, stammering through his dazed apology. “M’sorry, ma’am. Won’t happen again.”

Joel releases him with a rough shove and backs away nodding. “You’re damn right.”

He walks backwards until he’s beside you again, your hand slinking under his outer layer to rest securely over his chest.

“My hero,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek as the two of you continue your journey back home.

Watching over his shoulder as the the stranger staggers into the night, Joel mutters under his breath,

“I’d rather deal with the damn clickers.”

#lovely anons #calypso writes #Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller drabble #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller fluff #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x y/n #the last of us #tlou #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal x reader