#that gold oys never coming out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queen-of-reptiles · 4 months

Text

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙼𝙿𝙸𝙾𝙽

description: in which leah williamson’s younger sister is in a two year relationship with alessia russo and has just won two gold medals at the world gymnastic championships

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

alessia russo x female reader

disclaimer: I am in no way saying alessia russo is gay or bi-sexual this is all fiction

warnings: not much, slight language and a lil bit of sexual content

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n just posted

liked by, alessiarusso99, leahwilliamsonn and 236, 345 others

y/n what a team, what a time - i love you all and see you soon!! ❤️

tagged teamgb and britishgymnasticsofficial

view 3487 comments

username1: CONGRATULATIONS YOUR BEAM ROUTINE WAS MINDBLOWING 😭😘😘

teamgb: 2 golds, 3 silvers not too bad xoxo 🫡

y/n: ❤️❤️

simonebiles: so proud! remember when you were just a little thing competing ! can hardly keep up with you now! 🩷

y/n: I have been so grateful for all your support and coaching - even if i am team gb all the way! 😜😘

leahwilliamsonn: so so so so so proud of you, loved watching every second, you continuously make me proud little one !! ❤️😭

y/n: ilysm sis ❤️

izzy.songhurst: GOWAN Y/N - SHES THE QUEEN OF THE BEAM AND THE FLOOR ROUTINE 🩷

y/n: I EXPECT YOU TO FOLLOW SOON BRONZE THIS YEAR GOLD THE NEXT ❤️

alessiarusso99: I am so proud my baby <3

y/n: You helped more than you will ever know my love xx

ellatoone: 🤢🤢

y/n: @joebunney come get your girl 🙄

ellatoone: all gross love aside, well done our girl!! 😗

y/n: 😊😗

maxwhitlock: Absolute legend, BRING ON Paris 😎😎

y/n: 🇫🇷🇫🇷

username2: she was so good!!!! 😩😩

username3: She is SO pretty 🥺🥺

username4: WHY DID I NOT REALISE SHE WAS WITH ALESSIA??? 🤯🤯

username5: THEY HAVE BEEN TOGETHER FOR TWO YEARS?!!!!!

username6: and their instas are basically shrines to each other wtf????

katie_mccabe11: showin them all how it’s done! xx

y/n: took lessons from u clearly xo

bethmead_: nahhh got it from me 😌😊

caitlinfoord: that photo of us all in the caps tryna be inconspicuous omg 😭

y/n: lesbians united ig??

username7: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

britishgymnasticsofficial: ❤️❤️

see more comments…

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

alessiarusso99 just posted

liked by, ellatoone, mbrighty04 and 128, 298 others

alessiarusso99 day in day out you have worked incredibly hard for this, never resting, never giving up. Words cannot express how proud I was seeing you receive those medals. I love you baby, well done amore mio xxx ❤️

tagged y/n

view 2398 comments

leahwilliamsonn: this is cute and also sickening …

y/n: OI

username1: this IS the CUTEST THING 😭😭

username2: I NEED A RELATIONSHIP LIKE THIS NOW 😡😡

y/n: I love you so much baby! Thank you for being one of my biggest strengths! <3

alessiarusso99: always xo

lucybronze: sickeningly cute! WELL DONE Y/N 🩷

y/n: THANKS BESTIE 🩷

ellatoone: ew cooties

y/n: ew ella toone

alessiarusso99: behave you two!!

katie_mccabe: KISSING?? BEFORE MARRIAGE?

jbeattie91: SHAMEFUL

bethmead_: HOW DARE THEY!

alessiarusso99: children… the lot of you 🙄

mbrighty04: loving this !! GO y/n!!

y/n: 🥺😗

racheldaly3: LOVING YOU TWO!! 😩😩

y/n: love you Rach!! 😘

viviannemiedema: WELL DONE BABY WILLIAMSON 🩷

y/n: LOVE YOU TALL PERSON 🩷

esme.morgan: 🩷🩷🩷

username3: I feel like less is out of her league…

username4: Yeah i feel like She would be happier with someone else 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

ellatoone: We don’t.

arsenalwfc: We LOVE supportive girlfriends 😫💋

username5: WE LOVE THE ARSENAL ADMIN

see more comments…

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n just posted

liked by, arsenalwfc, simonebiles and 211, 528 others

y/n best thing about getting to rest?

Getting to join arsenal women training ofc 🥹 (oh and getting to yell at Katie cause J is cool like that :))

tagged arsenalwfc

view all 2133 comments

username1: hahahah she was allowed to go to training 😭😭

katie_mccabe11: I DON’T understand I was ONSIDE !

y/n: na never

katie_mccabe11: i hate you sm

arsenalwfc: Loved having you! content incoming gooners…

username2: AHHHHH

alessiarusso99: cannot believe my team didn’t win honestly 🙄

y/n: Just because you kiss me doesn’t mean I will give the foul! 🤷‍♀️

leahwilliamsonn: THATS MY GIRL - don’t give into seduction 😩😘

ellatoone: real question is … Did you take a shot?

y/n: Nahhhh didn’t wanna embarrass the girlies too much

bethmead_: yeah yeah, keep talking Williamson

caitlinfoord: Honestly best ref we have EVER had 🩷

y/n: Love youuuuuu Foordy 🩷

username3: How ? Was ? She ? Allowed ? In ? Training ? 😭😭

username4: Well, she’s Leah’s sister and Lessi’s gf so I suppose they all like her !

username5: Suppose? The entire team LOVES her !

see more comments…

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Arsenalwfc just posted

The camera zooms back from the Arsenal badge to show Alessia, Katie and y/n sat at a table laughing and they all smile at the camera.

“Hi I’m Alessia Russo.” Katie begins, Alessia laughing as she shakes her head.

“I’m y/n Williamson.” Alessia adds, causing y/n to glare.

“And I’m Katie Mccabe.” y/n says, a mock Irish accent in her voice which causes Alessia to giggle.

“Oi!” Katie says, leaning over to try and smack the younger girl but Alessia’s sharp light slap to Katie’s hand stops her.

“Ha!” y/n grins as Katie hisses like an angered cat.

“That’s not fair! She’s got her guard dog with her.” Katie jokes at the camera as Alessia rolls her eyes but she smiles none the less.

“Anyway…” y/n begins dragging out the ‘y’. “Today we are doing...” y/n begins. "What are we doing?" She then asks, causing the spectators to laugh.

The spectators in question were, Leah, Beth and Vivianne, all of who were sat happily on the sofa, watching the three on camera.

"Who knows who best." Katie says, Alessia rolling her eyes playfully when she realises they have been tricked into a couple's challenge for the youtube.

It was no secret the fans loved Alessia and y/n together, consistently finding their relationship adorable and loving the small amounts of content they were sometimes given.

"So, both Less here and baby Williamson, have whiteboards and they will be asked questions by me, of course, and have to write the answer down." Katie explains.

y/n holds up her whiteboard excitedly, her eyes sparkling as she grinned at the camera, missing the way her blonde lover smiled softly at her, eyes filled with soft love.

"Then, whoever gets the most right, wins." Katie says, she then picks up a card. "Right, what are Russo's two preferred positions?" Katie asks.

"Easy!" y/n grins as she begins to scribble across the board, Alessia chuckling as she does the same.

They two turn their boards around, Alessia smiling proudly at her girlfriend when she sees they have the same initials.

"Well done baby!" Alessia grins and y/n's cheeks flush at the term of endearment even after all their time together.

"Aw look at her!" Katie teases, leaning over to pinch y/n's cheek between her fingers, however the sharp hit which stops her makes her pout. "Again?" Katie whines at her fellow teammate.

y/n however grins at her protector, leaning over to peck her cheek sweetly, before glaring at her sister who fake gagged in disgust at the show of affection.

"Okay, movin' on." Katie hums. "What is y/n's favourite apparatus?" She asks before scoffing. "Even I know that!" She adds.

y/n smiles as she quickly writes her answer, Alessia doing the same as they count down from 3 before flipping their boards 'floor' both bright against the white.

"I knew that!" Beth says excitedly and y/n grins at her.

"I've always loved it, and found it so fun." y/n explains.

"Scares me half to death." Alessia denies as she remembers all the times she had watched her girlfriend jump and flip too high for her liking.

"It's my job Less." y/n defends with a laugh.

As the game continues it is clear the two girls know each other very well, both of them getting the other's question continuously correct until it was neck and neck and the last question.

"What is y/n's favourite beam dismount?" Katie asks.

Alessia pauses, shock in her face as she realises she doesn't know. Leah's mouth drops at the fact her sister's girlfriend doesn't know this and y/n looks mildly amused as she writes down.

"I don't know." Alessia admits. "I have no clue." She adds and Katie gasps as y/n turns her board around. Showing the g-valued dismount in black ink.

"Double tuck back salto with full twist." y/n says simply.

"Because you can land it every time." Alessia realises with a groan covering her face with her hands as Katie names y/n the winner.

As filming wraps up and y/n helps the crew put their things away, two lanky arms wrap around her waist and pull her into a corridor she didn't recognise.

"Can't believe you didn't know my dismount." y/n teases. "I mean, I love you so much, and know everything about you, but you don't even know my famous dismount." y/n continues.

Alessia whines, her lanky body pressing to the front of her girlfriend's as she buries her head in her lover's neck, causing her to have to bend quite a bit.

"Stop." Alessia huffs. "Its so many words to remember." She adds as y/n shakes her head.

"Don't love me." She teases as Alessia shuts her up with a chaste yet deep kiss.

The blonde striker's hands tighten around her waist, pulling her closer as her fingertips seemingly bruise into y/n's body from the strength of her grip.

The blonde angles her head down and left, giving her a better angle to press herself against her lover, her tongue pushing against y/n's slowly opening mouth.

After a moment of tongues clashing, the kiss slows Alessia's hands sliding up to gently cup y/n's face before keeping their lips pressed softly together for a moment more.

"Still think I don't love you?" Alessia asks, pulling away slowly, her teeth pulling y/n's bottom lip with her slightly.

y/n cannot function for a moment, the deep kiss sucking all the oxygen from her head and ability to breath from her body, the only thing in her mind being the smell of her girlfriend's perfume.

"I think you should do that once more, just so I'm sure you do." y/n smiles after regaining her ability to speak.

"Gladly, amore mio." Alessia murmurs, before moving her head back down to kiss her lover once more. After what felt like seconds, the two still pressed deeply together a shout ran out.

"MY EYES!"

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

alessiarusso99 just posted

liked by leahwilliamsonn, katie_mccabe11 and 239, 322 others

alessiarusso99 she’s my favourite person idk <3

tagged y/n

view all 3298 comments

username1: AWWWWWWWWW

y/n: i love you baby <3

ellatoone: ‘i love you baby’ 🤢

mbrighty04: hahahahahahahahahahahhahaha

leahwilliamsonn: my eyes will never recover 😩

y/n: #sorrynotsorry

alessiarusso99: #imaccsorry

y/n: she’s not …

katie_mccabe11: leah’s shout of horror will never leave me 😭

username2: what happened ?!?! I NEED TO KNOW 😂

username3: CUTEEEEEEEEEE

izzy.songhurst: 😍😍😍

y/n: 🩵🩵

username4: OI OI OI

caitlinfoord: KISSING? LIKE THIS? AT YOUR AGE ??

bethmead_: HOW AWFUL 😩

keirawalsh: you two are so cute !! xx 🥺

y/n: love youuuuu xx

lucybronze: you two are so gross !! xx 🥺

y/n: count your days Bronzey

maxwhitlock: 🫶🫶

see more comments...

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n just posted

liked by leahwilliamsonn, simonebiles and 498, 398 others

y/n alexa play baby by Justin Bieber

tagged alessiarusso99

view all 5987 comments

alessiarusso99: my love

katie_mccabe11: so gross 🙄

y/n: i’ll fight you mccabe i swear 🤛

ellatoone: banger of a tune

alessiarusso99: hundred percent 🫶

y/n: AND I WAS LIKE BABY BABY BABY

ellatoone: OOOH LIKE BABY BABY BABY OOH

username1: 🥺🥺🥺

username2: 🔥🔥

izzy.songhurst: cuties

y/n: love ya xx

alessiarusso99: thanks Iz ! x

arsenalwfc: ❤️🥺

leahwilliamsonn: 🙄😍

y/n: 🖕❤️

simonebiles: my babies are so cute !!!!

y/n: 💙💙

username3: 😫😫😫😫😫

kyracooneyx: i was so in love with him 🥲

y/n: it’s okay we all have a phase 😔

bethmead_: viv why can’t we be cute like this ?!!

viviannemeidema: because we are not as cute as this 🤷‍♀️

y/n: 😶😶

username4: I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

stanwaygeorgia: GROSS

keirawalsh: georgia behave

leahwilliamsonn: no no let’s hear her out

y/n: 🖕🖕

see more comments...

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

END

we love baby Less 🥺🥺

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo x y/n #woso x y/n #woso x reader #woso #social media woso #woso community #england lionesses #woso soccer #keira walsh #lauren james #lauren hemp #leah williamson #lucy bronze #millie bright

704 notes · View notes

rileyslibrary · 10 months

Note

hello! recently my cat went missing (but i luckily got him back!) and i never felt so hopeless. I had to search for him while it was raining, put up missing posters and honestly, the whole thing looked like a rlly sad movie 💀💀 so why not giving you a hint of a request with reader x ghost, where he helps reader find their missing cat? Or comfort them? I love to imagine Simon dealing with rather normal life challenges instead of life threatening ones for once <3 i love your writing so much, your whole blog is like a gold mine ♥️

Oh, nonny, nonny, nonny. As soon as I read “my cat went missing”, I went into panic mode and completely disregarded the brackets saying that you found the little rascal. You said Ghost x Reader instead of Simon x Reader, so how about we change the request a little bit? Let’s say the military base has adopted the cat, and reader has a special bond with it.

———————————————————————

You’re down on all fours, peering under the tanks in the garage.

“Pspspspspsps,” you murmur.

“He’s not here.” Ghost’s voice echoes through the vast space.

You glance at his feet from under a tank; he’s pacing around and knocking on vehicles as if that’s the right approach to attract a cat.

“Can you stop that?” you ask, frustrated. “He won’t come out if you keep making loud noises.”

Ghost stops, and you see his feet turning towards your voice. His left foot crosses over the right, and you hear a thud as he leans against one of the trucks.

“Cat’s not here,” he repeats.

“The cat has a name, you know.”

He scoffs. “What’s his name again?”

“Baba,” you remind him.

“Baba,” Ghost repeats, then shouts at the top of his lungs, “OI, BABA! C’MERE YA FUCKER!”

You immediately spring up from your position and rush towards him. You place your index finger on your lips and put your other hand on his mask, where his mouth is supposed to be.

“Ssshut your mouth, Lieutenant.”

“What?” he asks, his voice muffled by your hand. “He’s not here anyway.”

“How do you know?” you inquire and put your hands on your hips.

“Because,” he shrugs and looks around, “there’s nothing interesting for a cat here.”

“Cats love to get into car engines,” you counter.

“When it’s cold, they do,” he replies. “But it’s a thousand degrees out there.”

You sigh and start pacing around, nervously biting your nails.

“What if he’s thirsty with all this heat?” You cry. “What if he went elsewhere to find water and can’t find his way back?”

Ghost straightens up from leaning on the truck. “They always put fresh water out for him,” he reassures you. “There’s no way he wandered off to find somewhere else.”

You turn to look at him with watery eyes, and he meets your gaze.

“It’s been two days, Ghost.”

He tilts his head to the side and glances over his shoulder. “I know,” he murmurs, scratching his cheek over his mask.

You lean on a car, observing him as he walks amidst the vehicles in the garage. He takes a pack of treats from the front pocket of his tactical vest and starts shaking it under the cars, trying to coax Baba out of hiding, threatening that he won’t give him any if he doesn’t “surrender.”

“You like him, don’t you?” you ask him.

He stands up straight and cups his ear. “What?”

“I said you like Baba,” you repeat, this time louder.

“I like my living quarters to be mice-free; that’s what I like,” he mumbles.

“Oh yeah,” you tease, “is that why you have a bag of treats on you?”

He looks at the bag and rotates it as if it had magically teleported into his hand.

“Ah!” he exclaims. “Well, that... that cat...” he says, snapping his fingers.

“Baba.” You remind him, trying to hide your smile.

“Right; Baba likes treats, apparently.” He replies and lowers his voice, “Unfortunately, these are salmon, and he doesn’t like salmon, or so I heard, but that’s all they had at the store today.”

“So you like Baba,” you state, and your smile widens.

He mutters an angry “whatever” under his breath, dismisses you, and retreats deeper into the garage to continue his investigation.

You and Ghost comb through every nook and cranny for the rest of the day, checking behind equipment, under parked vehicles, and calling out Baba’s name. Unfortunately, there’s no sign of him.

As you continue the search, you feel like giving up and occasionally break down in tears. On the other hand, Ghost refuses to show any signs of worry; his approach is pragmatic. He knows crying won’t bring Baba back, so he does his best to keep you grounded and focused on the search. Although frustrated by the lack of progress, he channels the energy into brainstorming new strategies, such as placing feeding stations around the base and instructing whoever is on patrol that night to check the stations for any signs of Baba.

Once he finishes the announcement, he shuts off the comms and turns to you.

“Do you know if Baba is neutered by any chance?” He asks.

“I don’t think he is,” you reply, furrowing your eyebrows. “He’s impossible to be captured, let alone placed in a cage and driven to the vet. Usually, the vet comes on base to give him his shots.”

He nods and takes a few seconds to process the information.

“Well,” he says, tilting his head, “that might explain why he’s been missing for a while.”

“You mean…”

He nods again and raises his hands. “Maybe Baba went to find some-”

“Nuh-uh.” You warn him, showing him your palm. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“It’s a possibility,” he says, shrugging. “If he’s not neutered, he could be out and about, following his instincts.”

You sigh and lower your head. You rub the back of your neck and turn to look at him.

“I just want to find him,” you whisper.

“I know,” he replies. “Me too.”

“You do?”

“He’s good for pest control.” He states and gestures with his head towards you. “And if that makes you stop crying every quarter of an hour, so be it.”

You roll your eyes at him, and he chuckles. He pats your head and ruffles your hair.

“Don’t worry,” he says gently. “Either we find him, or he’ll return from wherever he’s gone.”

“What if we don’t find him, though?” You ask, “Or what if he doesn’t come back?”

“Baba always comes back.” He comforts you. “In the meantime, we’ll keep making announcements through the comms and print some posters to disseminate around the base.”

“I don’t have good pictures of Baba for the posters,” you say. “He never stays still.”

“That’s alright,” he replies. “I have a couple where he looks dapper.”

———————————————————————

Baba came back the next day. His fur was a tangled mess, covered in foxtails and burrs, and one of his ears was bleeding, so you summoned the vet to tend to his wounds. The mystery of where he had ventured off to and what he did there remained unsolved. Ghost claims he must have gone on a mission by the looks of him. You were both happy he was back, although the Lieutenant was slightly more pleased, knowing how much it meant to you to have Baba back.

2K notes · View notes

plush-rabbit · 3 months

Text

Foggy Minds

Word Count: 4.7K A/N: I dont know his body!! So I tried to leave it ambiguous and yeah!! i also wrote this just for the ending bit

It’s a fucking joke. A cruel one. Angels- or at least Exterminators- are known for their cruelty. Raining down from above, a storm cloud that leaves red behind. Even after the destruction and death, the guts and gore that leave a lasting stench, the cruelty isn’t done. The angel Adam still has to bring torment down to Hell.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing is what he is. He can pretend he’s higher than the sinners down below, but he’s just as crude, if not more so than the worst of them here. It’s a tradition at this point for both you and him. He brings hell on hell, and a week later, he flies down once more, calling the club that you work at, demanding for you to be sent to the Heaven Embassy. However, as the next Extermination Day comes close, he’s called for your services once again. You wish you could say no, but he pays quite a lot for you, and you could always use the money..

You hate the walk there more than anything. It’s like everyone knows you’re off to go fuck the Exorcist. You look both ways before disappearing through the doors of the Embassy. Maybe they think you’re getting a meeting with- someone.

The Embassy is empty, and every step you take echoes out in the room. You’re terrified. You always are. It never stops feeling like a trap. Even in the elevator on the way to the suite, you can only stare at the golden doors in front of you, your reflection distorted and twisted.

If you’re going to be honest- you aren’t sure why it’s you who has to come up. It’s Adam- he’s bragged enough about how he can have anyone, and yet, he pays for a sinner’s cunt. You make sure to not feel special, to squash any pride down. Perhaps it’s too tedious to pay for another sinner or hellborn, and it’s best to just get what he knows will be a good fuck. You sigh and look away from your reflection and the glowing numbers. Still, you show up and do your job. You've taken better and worse clients. The angel is just someone in between.

The doors open and you pass a few doors until you reach his suite. You don’t know why the Embassy has so many rooms, and when you tried to ask Adam, he made a comment about how you could have a fuck-a-thon, doing it in each room, and you sneered at the idea.

Your suite- or rather his suite- is unlocked like always. You waste no time, stepping into the shimmering room. It’s livable. A kitchenette on one side, a bathroom with a wonderful shower tucked in the room, and a massive bed pushed to the end of the room. The room is bright, golds and blues, a deep dark wood carved into ornate decorations, and you feel out of place. It’s nice- far too nice for you to show up and defile it with what you’re going to do. The room never ceases to amaze you. There aren’t many places in Hell where the colors are bright and soft at the same time, where things look so pristine and untouched. When you once mentioned to Adam how nice the room was, he laughed and told you that there were far better rooms in Heaven. A part of you still wishes that he would have offered to show you- something, pictures, descriptions, anything.

“Took you long enough!” The angel says, leaning back on the bed. “I pay for your entire time, ya know? From the walk from your whore house to the embassy, the least ya could do is hurry it up. I’m a very important angel, ya know?”

“You ordered me like last-”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “I don’t want excuses.” His hand waves in the air, and he sits on the bed. “Come on, let’s get to it.” You roll your eyes at him as you walk closer. “Oi! Don’t roll your eyes at me,” his voice is laced with disgust, and you remember that he looks down on you- in more ways than you would care to admit. “Come on, strip.” Your hands go to unzip your skirt. “And make it good!”

You bite your tongue. Your shirt is the first to go. The action is slow, tantalizing as your fingers skim over your bare skin, and your skirt follows suit, pooling on the floor. You step out the fabric, and your heels click on the floor. Adam watches you, his hands scratching the bed covers. You spread your legs over his right, and grab his hands, letting them touch your ribs and then moving towards your back.

You can feel the tips of his claws scratch at the clip of your bra. You press your cunt over his robe covered thigh, and grind over it softly. “Please, Adam,” you beg. “Take it off for me?” Your hands rest over his chest, and he watches as you grind yourself over him, your hands fisting over his robe, and you wonder for a moment if maybe you did a bad thing- if this was the wrong move. But then your bra straps fall down your shoulders, and it’s discarded somewhere in the room.

You hiss when his mouth suckles on a breast, the other breast being pinched and pulled at. He sucks so softly, letting his tongue roll over the swelling bud, teething at it so you hiss and arch yourself further into him. You can feel a wet spot grow, and you can’t help but rock yourself over your thigh. The other breast is manhandled, twisted and pinched that has you gasping and fisting holy fabric in your sinner hands.

You're pushed off and his hands claw over your hip. You get the memo, and peel off your underwear, the wetness of it noticeable, and the only mention of it is when Adam pockets your underwear. You wish you bought another pair with you. The heels are tossed aside, and strong hands push you down from your shoulders. You fall onto your knees with a hiss, and you know what you have to do.

“And- And- Oh fuck, that’s it, baby-” He hisses, his head tilted back. The hand fisted into your hair tightens, sharp stinging encouraging you to swallow more so he could let go. “I’m just saying that why would you settle for anything less than-” A moan interrupts his monologue and you look at him through glossy eyes. “Oh fuck. It’s like a fucking gift to suck me off.”

A string of spit and pre-ejaculate connects to your lips as you pull away. It’s thick and white, and you’re gasping for hair, a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and you push yourself to swallow his package, fitting the pair into your mouth as your hand pumps his length. He’s breathing heavily, and you know he's upset at the loss of contact with your mouth with the way that his hand tangles itself into your hair, but his mask is twisted, and you pop them out of your mouth. Your mouth feels dry despite the excess spit- you suppose it’s the salty taste that lingers.

You take him back in your mouth, eager, and begging for him to just spill his seed already. Your cheeks hollow, and he’s heavy on your tongue. Your tongue swirls over a vein, and you can feel him twitching.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he hisses, his hands cradling your head. You hum, and brace yourself, your hands holding at his thighs, bracing yourself for him to thrust forward. His hands tighten, and he thrusts into your mouth. You gag around him, your throat constricting around him. It’s a horrid sound, loud and hollow, and acid threatens to bubble over. As he continues to pump himself into you, spit dribbles from the corner of your lips and you’re grateful that you were ordered to remove your clothes.

“That’s right, take it. Oh fuck, fuck-” a string of curses fills the room, and he’s unrelenting, pushing deeper into your throat. A hand slips to grab at your breast, eyes squinting when you can feel the spit coat over your chest. Your other hand tightens around Adam’s thigh, your nails pinching into him.

Your fingers pinch over your nipple, rolling it over, desperate to take your mind off of the assault of your mouth. His thrusts get deeper and harsher, and he’s still in the back of your throat, holding you down. Curses mutter in the air, sharp and slurring together, and he keeps his eyes on you. The eye contact is far too much, the piercing eyes boring into your entire being, and it must be some type of power play for him. You choose to focus on the base of his cock. With your nose pressed into his pubic bone, you cough around him, and finally he pulls away, his seed laying thick on your tongue. Tears wet your face and mix with your spit and the drops of his seed.

He grabs your chin and you open your mouth, showing the mess that he’s made. Letting go, you stay still, as he taps his cock on your face. It’s tacky with your spit and leaves you feeling much filthier than you would like to admit. You hold the seed in your mouth and he gives a nod, and you make a show of swallowing, and open your mouth to show him. “Did you want me to do a blessing before you swallow?” He teases. “With my holy cum, I grant you the opportunity to fuck me.” He chuckles at his joke.

“Thank you, Adam,” you murmur, hoping that the soreness on your jaw will go away.

“You know, you could learn how to relax your throat. You’d think after doing this for a living, your gag reflex wouldn't be a thing.” You send him a dirty look, and his grin widens. “So fucking sensitive. What did you want me to tell you? That you were good?”

You aren’t sure what mood he’s in at the moment. Sometimes you can tell when he wants to fight with you- where he wants to punish you and call you a sinner as he ravages you, but then there are moments when he wants you to beg for him, to tell him how good he is, how you want his cock more than anything. But at the moment with your skull pounding and jaw sore, you spit out a simple, “Fuck you.” His grin widens, and he hoists you up onto the bed. The stickiness on your face ruins the soft comforter, and you feel too dirty to even touch something so nice.

“I was going to be nice and just fuck you, but shit, you had to talk back.”

A hand grips at your rear, and a finger teases at your hole. You hiss at the contact, and you're glad you’re face down or else you’d never hear the end of it of how flustered you must look. As if reading your mind, he flips you over, your face exposed and your hands immediately cover the lower half.

“Adam-” you squeal, instinctively trying to close your legs only to have them pried apart.

“Don’t worry,” he says casually. “I just wanna look at how wet you got just from sucking on me.” A finger traces against your slick and you watch as he tastes the finger. “Damn, I should have let you keep your panties on if I knew you were going to get this wet.” A finger enters and you squirm, suckling the intrusion further into your softness. “You’re soaked. And all you had to do was suck me off. You know, if I could keep you, I would.” He enters another finger, pushing the two inside until he’s at the knuckles. “I’d give you a nice collar, a nice bed, and all you would have to do is be my little cocksleeve.” He pulls out, and thick strings of slick connect his fingers back to your cunt. He returns his fingers to your cunt, now with the addition of a third. It’s a wide stretch, a sharp pain being overridden with pleasure. “I bet you’d like that. You’d live a pampered life, and all you have to do is keep your pussy spread open for me.”

With a yank, you’re pulled further into the bed. The comforters make a soft noise, but the bed itself doesn’t creak. You watch with half-lidded eyes, focused as he rests on his knees beside you, his cock growing, the scent of it enough to make you go dizzy. You brush your cheek against it, licking at the side of it when he thrusts his fingers into you.

You sit on the bed, his cock pressed against your face, and with a mind too delirious to think of anything else, you pull him into your mind, lazily bobbing his head, as his fingers scissor inside of you.

You breathe heavily, your mind growing fuzzy with the stimulation. He’s slow and lazy, massaging the inside of your gummy walls as he looks down at you taking his cock once more. A hand brushes your hair away from your face, and you pull away, pecking at his cockhead, nuzzling the glistening head against your lips. It isn’t enough for you, and you swallow him once more, humping into his hand when he gives a smart smack to your cunt.

“Turn around,” he orders, and you scamper to do so. You don’t get a moment to prepare yourself, until he’s bullying himself inside of you. Your hands claw at the comforter, and with watery eyes, you see the fabric tear apart underneath your claws. “You’re clamping down hard around me,” he breathes out, and you buck your hips, trying to feel him deeper into you.

Above you, he's heavy, and selfish, pumping into you relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin is harmonized by your moans. He grunts above you, whispering strings of obscenities and few words of praise linger in the air.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts out, “so fucking good.” His breath is hot against you, fanning out into feathered tickles that touch at your body. He’s never been one for intimacy before reaching his peak, always preferring to be lustful, so you never expect him to actually kiss you, but in moments where he rights just at the right spot, you’d wish he do a little more to make it feel something other that whatever this all is.

His body is pressed against your back, hands squirming underneath to grab at your breasts. His hands are rough and unforgiving, pulling and pinching his nails into your soft skin, You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, puffing and huffing, murmurs about how you feel wrapped around him, and you bury your face into the comforter. Your mouth is slacked open, spit pooling down, as your moan helplessly around him, body taut and nerves feeling as if they’re on fire.

“No fucking wonder you’re a sinner,” he seethes out, his thrusts harsh and deep, enough to have you see stars and think about how as selfish as he can, he feels so good. “With a pussy this good, I bet you had everyone lined up for just a taste.” You let out a low whine. “Yeah, I bet you did. No wonder you were hired at that sex joint. Did you have to fuck the owner to get in? Ha?” His tone is wicked, and you’re unsure if it’s his words or the fact that you’re so close as to what is making you tear up. His weight above you shifts, and by your hair, you’re yanked back. You yelp and tighten around him, tears slipping down. “I asked you a question.”

“I didn’t-” you yelp as he continues to bully himself inside of you- “I didn’t hear it, ’m sorry,” you mumble, your scalp stinging with pain.

“Too fucked up on my dick to even think,” he hisses, pushing you down onto the bed. He pulls himself out, and you whimper, shaking your head and pushing yourself closer to him, your cunt weeping for more of him. “A cock hungry slut is all you are, huh?” His cock is pulled out, and he watches you whine, your cunt gaping and leaking slick that makes your thighs glisten.

“Adam, please,” you moan, turning your head to look over your shoulder. You can feel the drool stick to the side of your lips.

“Please what?” he spits out, his eyes flickering to yours, before returning to your ruined sex.

You let a whimper, high-pitched and desperate. You fall back to the bed, your eyes looking forward, and your hand slips underneath you, fingers peeking towards your cunt, feeling the warmth drip onto your fingertips. “I want more,” you tell him, your words muffled by the comforter. “I want you,” you tell him, hoping that he’d take pity on you for a moment.

The tip of his cock brushes itself against your opening, and you clench around it, your body aching for more. “Nah, you have to do better than that.” Your cries are shushed, brows furrowed and you’re turned over onto your back, “Come on, I’ve heard you beg before.” Two of his fingers enter you, thrusting in painfully slow. “You know what to say already.” Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your fingers twisting the bed sheets into spirals. You shake your head, humping pathetically into his hand. “I promise to make ya feel real good.”

“Adam,” you croak. He pulls his fingers out, and tears gluten over your lashes. “Please, I wanna be fucked.” Your legs tense when you feel the tip of his cock nestle itself inside of you. “I’m just a filthy sinner who needs-” you yelp when he thrusts himself inside of you, the entire lengths filling you nicely- “needs to be fucked by your holy dick.” His hands curve over your hips, scratching softy over your skin.

“A little more, honey, and I’ll ruin that demon pussy for you.” His hands curve over your hips, scratching softly over your skin, his voice low and sweet for you.

“Adam,” you plead, your hands curving over your breasts, “I need you,” you whisper in a haze. “I need your cock in me, I wanna cum real bad. I need you. I need you to fuck my sinner pussy.”

He gives you a lazy smile, and gives a nonchalant shrug. “Good enough.” He pushes himself inside of you. Your stomach coils into a heat, and you suck in a harsh breath when his fingers slip to rub at the bundle of nerves between your legs. “You have a fucking grip on my dick. What is it? Are you close?” You let out a broken moan. Your legs kick up, and wrap around him. “If I cum in you, you’re dealing with it.” His grin is sharp and predatory, and it only makes you drag your hands down his arms.

Your hands reach up, and you hold the sides of his neck, your hands curving behind, and you just feel tufts of hair peek from underneath the mask. A hand reaches to grab your wrist, holding it tightly, and you’re sure you’re going to have a bruise afterward. “You fuckin’ slut,” he spits out. “You think just because you got my mask off last time, I’ll let you look at me again?”

“Adam,” you whimper out, scratching at the back of his neck with your free hand, “please. I just wanna look,” you slur out. You know you’ll regret saying those things when you’ve sobered from him, but sex always did make you softer, needier. You think that must be why he decided to continue to hire you- to see you pant for him and stroke his ego. “You’re so pretty, I wanna see,” you lament. “I wanna- I just- I wanna look at you when I cum,” you stumble over your words, your fingertips tapping against the bottom of the mask. The golden eyes narrow at you, and you can only look for so long until you turn your attention elsewhere.

His mask is tossed to the side, and his irises glow. The hand that holds your wrist loosens, and you cup over his cheek, the stubble on his chin scratching at your palm. “Fuck- Oh fuck,” you hiss out, your heart beating against your chest rapidly. “I’m gonna- Oh my- Adam! Fuck,” you hiss, the knot in your stomach tightening, a pressure building more and more until you’re sure that you’ll burst.

Even as your body shakes, he doesn’t stop. He continues moving his hips, pushing all of himself inside of you, his breath coming out in pants above you, his smile sharp and face flushed. A hand wraps around your neck, and you arch yourself into it, whining and mumbling at how your cunt is still too sensitive, how he has to slow down, but he coos at you, and he tells you how good you’re benign for him, and you hold onto his wrist with your hands.

Adam places his face close to yours, his lips and breath fanning above yours, and you’re stuck staring at his eyes, unable to look away from the gold in front of you. You lick your lips, and you brush against his. He stares at you, and your face burns.

He gives shallow thrusts, and is still inside of you, and you can feel him. You can feel the heat, and the stickiness leaks out of you. He keeps himself there, and hides himself into the crook of your neck. After a moment, he slips out, and you can feel the heaviness of his seed weep out of you in slow and heavy drools.

You lay in the afterglow, chest heaving and sweat and more sticking to your skin. Your body is on pins and needles, and laying on top of the soft bedding, you could fall asleep right then and there. Nestled into a pile of feathers and gold, you could die- again- and be happy with it.

But then the man- the first man- groans and you remember that this isn't the time to play house. You have a job. Or rather, you had one, and now you have to return. You lift yourself up into a sitting position, and you stare at the bathroom. A part of you wants to take a shower, but you fear that if you even just tasted what luxury is, you’d have to be pried out of the embassy.

With a sigh, you lift yourself off of the body and gather your clothes. The lack of underwear is something that you frown upon, but when you look back to the angel, with the demand for its return, you can’t bring yourself to ask for it. You’ve walked around without it before when customers got handsy, this is nothing. Your skirt is tight, and long enough that only a pervert would tell.

“So,” he trails off, lying on his back, “do you wanna cuddle or something?”

Your eyes widen, and as you flatten your skirt, you thin your lips. “Uh, no. No thanks, Adam. I’m uh- I’m good.” You straighten your top, and tap your heels against the floor, the sharp click echoes in the chambers.

“Whatever,” he huffs, “I was just gonna psych you out anyways.” He waves his hand, and cool air rushes around you.

You let out a sigh, looking at the mirror where you stared at yourself just a bit ago. Your hands play with your hair, making sure that when you leave, it won’t look like you just slept with someone. You hum, and tilt your head from side to side, trying to find some sort of mark that would have to be hidden. However, the cool air- his own magic or blessing- has fixed any evidence of indecency on you.

“The extermination is next month,” Adam sighs. Your eyes flick up, and you catch him staring at you- golden eyes piercing into your own, unblinking and unbothered.

“I’m aware,” you tell him, returning to look at yourself in the mirror. You stand straight and let out a sharp sigh. “I think some of the residents are already panicking.”

“Are you?”

Your stomach knots itself, and you remember when you were first bought by Adam- the nervousness, the disgust, the bile burning your throat. It’s all too familiar at this moment. You shrug. “I don’t think it’s set in yet,” you mumble.

“I’ll come by the night before.” You look at the white tiles- the grout filled with shimmering gold, and the tiles patterned with silver and gold lines. “I’ll leave the back door unlocked like last time.” He doesn’t say the words nicely, it’s more like an afterthought, as if telling you this is a bother, but still, he tells you this, and one thing you've learned about Adam is that he hasn't lied to you yet. You fist the hem of your skirt in your hands, and nod. It’s silent, and then he starts again, annoyance laced into his words. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Adam,” you tell him in a beat.

“Yeah, well, I can't have my favorite whore die.” His wings unfurl and stretch across the bed. The tips of the feathers reach just beyond the mattress, and you shrug. The words hang heavy in the air, and you feel small compared to him. In the mirror, you can see his reflection, his mouth thinning, and his eyes narrowing. “I- uh- I still have you for ten more minutes.” You make eye contact with him in the mirror. “Get back here. I wanna suck on your tits.”

You stick your tongue out, and your hips sway as you walk towards him, your heels falling carelessly to the floor as you rest beside him. His hands are cold as they peel off your shirt and without a care, he tosses it to the foot of the grand bed. A hand cups at your breast, and you can feel his breath fan over your chest, and you wait to feel his teeth bite at you, but you never do. The wetness of his lips trace over the swell of your breast, a peck pressed against the bud, but never swallowing it. Your chest is heavy with his weight on top of you, and the hand on your breast unfurls and curves over your ribs. His wings expand, and they partially cover you, the softness of them akin to the finest blanket in what only money can buy.

Realization as what he’s doing has your body heating, and you worry that he can tell with the way that he’s laid bare on your chest, and yet, he makes no snide comments. This is far more intimate than anything you’ve ever done before. With a harsh swallow, your arm wraps around him, your hand reaching upwards to scratch at the back of his head. Your hands knot into his hair, your nails dully scratching along his scalp. He lets out a low hum in response, nuzzling his cheek over your bare skin in approval.

With a shaky breath, you break the silence. “You know, I was thinking, that maybe I’d uh, give that Hazbin Hotel a shot.” You feel his hands scratch over your ribs, straight, and piercing, and they cling to you as his breath hitches. “I’m not sure I believe in the whole redemption thing, but free housing is nice.” You feel him nod slowly, and you twirl a piece of his hair around your finger. He gives you a short answer, one that is mumbled into your skin and doesn't make its way to you, and his wings inch further up covering more of your body as he brushes his lips against the swell of your breast. You don’t look at the time even when you feel that he’s grown heavier on your body.

570 notes · View notes

kodydrs · 8 months

Text

The Vice-Admiral’s Daughter - Portgas D. Ace ( I )

➥ the first drinks

a/n: ace is the loml. i love him sm. this is gonna be a multi-part “story” but only like 4 or 5 parts. Hope everyone is having a nice day, and why not reply & reblog or send in a request / ask?

warnings: ace x fem!reader, pirate!ace x fem!reader, fxm, underage drinking, 18!ace, 16!reader, swearing, tension (you decide whether it’s sexual or not) eventual smut, ace likes to call reader “princess”, marine!daughter!reader, not proofread (it’s never proofread), i’m bad at tagging

summary: a series of you and aces “first times”. - ace is a pirate, and you’re a vice-admirals’s daughter. you’re not 100% sure how you came to be together, but now he’s standing at your window on the second floor for the first time.

ib: none

request: yes / no

‘Ace.’ You hissed, seeing your boyfriend trying to quietly open your window. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

Portgas D. Ace. More famously known as Fire Fist Ace, is one of the most feared pirates on the Grand Line. With a bounty of $550,000,000 berries, you can’t exactly remember how you’d come to meet him for the first time, but you remember the second time when you found him face down in his food.

‘Ace?’ You called, shaking his limp body. ‘Get up before you choke.’ As if he was taunting you, the man shot up, coughing and spluttering. ‘Idiot.’

You smacked the man’s back, watching in disgust as he spat the food out. With a grimacing face, he brings a hand to his throat and rubs is gently while looking around the room. When the man’s gaze falls on you, his eyes light up.

‘Hey! It’s the Vice Admiral’s daughter! Long time, no see!’

You fold your arms, staring down at the pirate with a raised eyebrow. Ace just smiles and laughs at you. Without a word, you grab him by his hats string and drag him out of the restaurant onto the street.

‘Oi. Oi. Hey. Calm down, girl. I was just trying to have a meal.’

‘A meal where you die via food and a marine catches you? fucking idiot.’

He laughs quietly to himself as you drag him along the road.

‘Oh please. No marine is going to arrest me when I have my trusty Admiral’s daughter by my side.’

‘Vice-Admiral. And I have a name, you know?’ You let go of the string, turning to finally meet him face to face. ‘Plus, just because I’m around doesn’t mean you won’t get caught. I’m fully open to turning you in if you annoy me enough. And you’re a bigger idiot than I thought if you think I won’t.’

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’ He replies simply, brushing you off and turning to the nearest tavern.

‘Ace.’ You whine, grabbing both his shoulders. ‘I’m telling you to leave. Leave before we both get into trouble.’ The pirate just grins and ruffles your hair. In defeat, you flip your head to the ground and groans. ‘You’re insufferable.’

He laughs, linking arms and walking into the building.

‘So they say. But no complaints on my behalf.’ You let the older drag you along into the tavern, sitting you down at the bar. ‘2 beers please.’ He says to the bare tender, slapping a few gold coins onto the counter.

You’re quick to put your hands up, denying the offer.

‘Oh no. I don’t drink.’ Ace’s grin widens.

‘Why not? You’re so pretty and young, and you’re telling me you aren’t hitting the bar each night. What harm could it possibly do ya?’ His voice drops an octave, becoming almost seductive sounding. ‘Come on, princess. Let me buy you a drink.’

You looked between him and the bartender, smiling sheepishly at them both.

‘I’ll just get a water, please.’

‘Coming right up.’ The bartender says, working quickly to get you both your drinks.

‘So tell me.’ Ace says, leaning forwards with his forearms against the table. ‘Why doesn’t the Vice-Admiral's daughter drink?’

You smiled to the bartender as he placed your drink down and quickly took a sip.

‘You just answered your own question, fire fist. Vice-Admiral’s daughter. Don’t wanna get myself caught up in all the other drunks shit and give my family a bad rep.’

Ace laughed, taking a large swig of his ale. He looked from his drink, to you, around at the other people, then back to you.

‘But getting caught up in their shit is the most fun, especially when you’re young and without a care in the world.’

‘And if I do have a care in the world?’ You rested your chin on your hand, sighing deeply. ‘I’m not a pirate, Ace. I can’t just do whatever I want.’

His gaze drops and he takes another swig before looking back at you.

‘I’m sorry.’ His voice has lost it’s laughable tone, turning into a more serious one. ‘I didn’t mean to make you feel like you have to explain yourself. Especially not to a pirate.’ He nudged you with a slight grin. ‘How about this then? You drink to your hearts content, and I’ll make sure you don’t get caught up in “the drunks shit”. Sound fun?’

You finish your water and shake your head, eyes brows raising momentarily.

‘Mhm. And what? So you can take advantage of an innocent 16 year old?’ You say it with a fake pout and stare at him with a slight squint, trying to see through the facade he’s put up. He just laughs, looking around again before leaning in close.

‘Now let’s be honest for a second here, miss. I am not that much older than you.’

You blush at the close proximity, but swallow it down.

‘Sure.’

He leans back with a smirk, seeing your pink face.

‘One drink then? Please.’

Your hesitancy shows you’re not completely against the request. You lean back in your chair, running your hand through your hair and then over your face with a low groan.

‘One drink. And that’s it.’

The ravenette laughs quietly and nods.

‘Alright, alright. One drink and no more. You have yourself a deal, princess.’

Ace calls the bartender back and you get yourself an ale. At first you take small sips, but as the night continues, you find yourself taking large gulps. Suddenlyone drink turns into 2, and then 2 turns into about 6, and then you find yourself laughing at things no sober person would laugh at.

Ace watches as you knock back each drink, grinning from ear to ear as your laughs fill the bar. Occasionally he’d join in on your laughs, but he’d up kept his original proposal of staying sober while you got drunk. The sun had long gone down and the moon was shining bright in the night sky.

You were laughing at how a random man’s shadow cast in the moonlight when the fatigue hit you like a freight train. In an instant, you felt your whole body turn to jelly and you began falling.

Ace caught you around the waist and hoisted you up to his shoulder without dropping off his own seat. He keeps talking to you, making sure you’re awake and responsive. Not that you’re actually talking back. More just grumbling.

‘Let’s get you home, shall we?’ He asks, paying for your drinks as he practically carries you out of the tavern and down the main street. ‘Not that I exactly know where that is. Can you give me directions if you’re not too drunk?’

‘I’m not drunk.’ You instantly protest.

‘That’s a no, then.’ He laughs, carrying you into a nearby alleyway. ‘Just wait a second while I think of a way to get you home.’

‘But I’m not drunk.’ You whine, nocturnal to what he’s actually saying. ‘Come on. Let’s go back to the bar. I can have one more drink.’ You push off the pirate, trying your best (and failing) to stand up straight. Ace steps towards, holding your forearm gently to keep you stable on your feet. He looks at your eyes and giggles.

‘You’re so cute when you’re all messed up like this.’

‘I’m not drunk or messed up!’ You shout. He laughs again and leans in closer, eyes drawn to your lips momentarily before returning to your eyes.

‘You are, princess. And regardless of whether you want to admit it or not, you’re completely helpless right now- a perfect combination of hot and vulnerable. It’s a shame I can’t do anything without us getting caught…’

He’s teasing, and being as unserious as they come, but you’re just staring at his lips in your drunk-gaze.

‘I really wanna kiss you right now.’ You blurt out. His eyes widen before diverting from yours, a hint of surprise in his action.

‘Say that when you’re sober, princess.’ Without a further arguing, he lifted you off the ground and over his shoulder.

He carried you back to the tavern and laid you down in one of the booths before going to the bartender.

‘Can you please make sure she gets back to wherever she’s meant to be? I don’t really know her other than drinking buddies so I don’t know where she lives.’

‘Well, sure.’ The bartender laughs, cleaning up the last of the mugs. ‘You sir have been drinking with the Vice-Admiral's daughter. They’ve got big hopes for her. Think she'll be a Vice-Admiral when she’s old enough.’

‘Is that so?’ Ace hummed with a smile. He thanked the bartender and left, leaving you sleeping.

tag list: (reply to be added)

all rights and reserves are copyright to kodydrs on tumblr. this material is not to be copied or translated.

338 notes · View notes

denaliwrites · 7 months

Text

Aziraphale's Favorite Author

Aziraphale x GN!Reader

Summary: Reader has written a book, and is nervous to share this with Aziraphale, who has probably read literally every book ever.

Warnings: Imposter Syndrome.

Requests: Open! Please, feed me.

You can't think of another time you'd been so nervous. In fact, you were pretty sure there hadn't been another time. The energy zapping around across each and every one of your nerve endings was a uniquely new experience, and it left you feeling breathless in the worst way.

What were you even doing here? The book, wrapped delicately in gold paper that reminded you of the angel, weighed heavily in your hands. Far heavier than the actual physical object could realistically weigh. There was no way he'd want this -- he's surely read most books, if not all of them. He's read Austen, Shakespeare, every Great Writer throughout history, probably. How could you ever hope to compete? Why would he even bother reading the cover, let alone the meat of the novel?

But it was too late -- you'd already knocked, and you could see him fast approaching. He saw you through the door's window and beamed, and it just made you feel worse. You didn't deserve that expression, and as soon as he saw what you'd done, he'd take it away from you. Hell, he'd probably mock you, thinking you had any right to drop this slop in his hands like it was some great piece of literature.

The door opened, and immediately, he knew something was wrong. Of course he knew, how could he not? You were basically sweating bullets, eyes unfocused and heart beating so wildly you could even see worry on Crowley's face as he passed by.

God, how anxious were you?

"My dear," Aziraphale hummed happily, though you could hear that note of worry in his tone -- the one reserved especially for you. The one that, currently, made you want to run and hide, because how could you ever do that to him? You were ashamed --

"What are you holding there?" he asked softly, kindly, and you were pulled out of your ever spinning mind long enough to look down at the gift with a stunned expression.

"Oh, it's... it's nothing. I... well, it was for you, but on second thought, I don't think you'll like it. I'll just--"

"Oh, nonsense, dear," he reassured you, smiling. "I love all the gifts you bring me!"

His words were so genuine, you almost believed them. But how could he love anything you brought him? You were just a stupid, ordinary human, you couldn't possibly compare --

"May I open it?" he asked, hands on the object and gently trying to coax it out of your grip.

"No!" you yelped, before dropping your hold to clamp your hands over your mouth in embarrassment. "Oh, my God... I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I should..."

"Please, come in," he said gently, moving aside so that you could step past him. You did as you were told, legs stiff with nerves and the overwhelming desire to flee from the bookshop, never to return.

He led you to your favorite seat, watched to make sure you actually sat down. You could tell that he had noticed the way your leg took to bouncing erratically the moment you were seated. He watched it with some concern before turning his attention to the book -- and it was so obviously a book, even through the layers of wrapping paper.

His touch was feather light and delicate as he peeled the paper away without causing a single tear. He stared at the cover once it was revealed for a long time. A very long time. Too long.

You were getting antsy, desperate -- you didn't even care what he said at this point (or so you told yourself), you just wanted him to say something!

"Crowley," Aziraphale finally said, and even though he had said it as if speaking to someone right beside him, the demon appeared from wherever he'd been with a curiously quirked eyebrow. "Look what our wonderful friend has done!"

"Oi, you did this?" the demon asked, gaze shooting over to you. You nodded, throat suddenly too dry to allow for words. "Well done, then," he said, and then he'd disappeared back into the depths of the bookshop.

You blinked in stunned silence, before returning your attention to Aziraphale. He was the one you were really worried about -- he was the one that could make or break you, likely the latter, in a matter of moments.

"Oh, my dear," he started, positively beaming, "I am so proud of you!" He moved to stand before you, gently pulling you up. He hugged you tightly and placed a loving kiss to your cheek. When you looked into his eyes, you saw real, earnest joy there. Pride. Love.

A few tears dropped from your eyes, and immediately his expression turned to one of concern. "Oh, my darling, whatever is the matter? This should be a joyous occasion!"

"I-I just," you blubbered, finally breaking out into broken sobs. "I thought you'd hate it..."

"Why on Earth would I do that?" he asked, and you could hear that he was truly affronted by the idea, and it just made you feel worse.

"You've... y-you've read, like, every book! Ever! You've read all the greatest... how could I ever hope to compete? I can't possibly be as good as Jane Austen! A-and, I mean, I know it's not about that, but I so badly want you to like it, but how can you like it when there are so many better books out there and you've read them all?"

He appeared thoughtful for a long minute that felt like it dragged on for hours. You could see words and expressions tumbling through his mind, could see him formulating sentences and paragraphs.

"My dear," he finally started, and it sounded a lot less sure than you'd expected, and a lot less devastatingly cruel. "Whyever would any of that matter to me? Great as they are, none of those writers are you. I care about you, and I care about the things you feel, and the things you say. I care about how you see the world, how you process your experience as a human with a limited amount of time and a limited capacity for experience. Your voice matters to me far more than Jane Austen's, or anyone else's."

Your sobs didn't cease -- if anything, they grew stronger. But at least now, there was relief in them. Overwhelming relief. And some joy, too. He'd made it very clear to you that he loved you and cared about you.

Warm arms wrapped around you and coaxed you down into the chair, settled atop his soft lap. His arms stayed circled around you, even as he held the book out in front of him and began reading.

You couldn't look at the contents -- he'd soothed you for now, but you still had lingering doubts, and you couldn't stand to look at the mess you'd made out of the English language. But from your perch atop his legs, you could watch Aziraphale's shifting expressions. You could roughly guess where he was in the novel based on the look on his face -- you hoped that meant it was good.

You were sure that it wasn't the best novel ever written, but maybe it didn't need to be. Maybe all you needed was for Aziraphale to be proud of you.

And he was.

In fact, you were officially his favorite author.

#aziraphale x reader #aziraphale x you #good omens x reader #good omens fic #good omens fan fiction #michael sheen

113 notes · View notes

themultifandomgal · 9 months

Text

Shelby Sister- Troublesome Twins

This was requested, but I can’t find the actual request sorry.

Although YN and Finn were twins, YN was the youngest. Being 3 minutes younger than Finn and a female meant that everyone was protective of her, but she was just as dangerous as her brothers hence how they both got into this little pickle.

"YN stay behind me" Isaiah YN's boyfriend says earning an eye roll off the girl. She takes her own gun out with her brother and they sneakily walk up the stairs. Tommy told YN and Finn to stay out of the business, but they both love to defy Tommys orders, in their minds it's to prove themselves, in Tommys eyes they're just stupid. While YN stays by her brothers side they reach a door. Finn goes to open it but a gun shot it fired leaving a hole in the middle of the door. Finn goes to open the door again but this time he gets shot in the arm

"Fuck" he whispers. YN bends down wrapping her scarf around the wound Aberama Gold shoots the man before he can harm anyone else, killing him

"Damn it Finn"

"Ow" he groans as YN tightens the scarf around his arm more

"Aberama help 'im up would ya. We're going to Ada's"

"The couch, put something down on the couch or my sister will fucking kill me" Finn shouts at Isaiah who yanks a blanket off another chair

"Oi be carful" YN scolds her boyfriend

"She spends thousands of pounds in this shit"

"Finn shut the fuck up and sit down" YN sighs getting some alcohol for the wound and some for Finn to drink

"Peaky boy give me your blade" Isaiah looks at me asking for what I think

"Is give Aberama your blade" YN tells him taking a swig of the vodka she had found

"Why the fuck you drinking?"

"Because I still have to deal with the wrath of Tommy, getting yourself bloody shot Finn" YN shakes her head annoyed. Finn snatched the alcohol from YN and takes a swig himself

"Don't want you throwing up on your sister's furniture"

"Is hold 'im. Finns gonna squirm" Isaiah gives YN a nod and holds Finn down "what do you want me to do?"

"Pour the vodka and pressure on the wound as soon as I get the bullet out" YN nods ready with her scarf once again

"You know what you're doing?" Isaiah asks

"I've done this a thousand times" Aberama replies before cutting the bullet out. YN quickly pours the vodka on the wound and then applies pressure while Finn shouts and pants

"There you go just a little one"

"What the fuck is going on?" YN jumps hearing her sisters voice

"Hi Ada" she tries to sweetly smile

"What has Tommy told the pare of you. Shelbys stay out of the sporting

stuff"

"I know" YN pouts.

The following day YN hears the doors the the garrison open while she's cleaning up Finns mess. She walks to the bar and sees Tommy sat down and Arthur looking around

"Ok before you say anything I have no clue who she is" YN points to the girl Finn brought back with him "and Isaiah isn't here I promise we're still waiting for marriage" YN puts her hands in the air even though they all know she's lying straight between her teeth. Of course YN and Isaiah haven't waiting for marriage but at least they aren't flashing their relationship about

"Go home" Tommy tells the girl who's just woken up

"Come 'ere you. Put this on. Wrap up warm" Arthur says holding out a coat trying to give the girl some dignity even if that was YNs coat. She huffs crossing her arms

"You owe me a new coat"

"No he doesn't, but you owe us an explanation" Tommy grumbles

"Fine but you wanna hear it from the mastermind" YN clears her throat walking over to Finn

"Oi!" she shouts making him jump awake "wake up time" she then sweetly says smiling

"Rise and shine" Arthur says standing by Tommy

"What are you two doing here?"

"Wasting our fucking time you you both"

"Oi" YN says frowning "I'm not the one who trashed this place"

"No but you didn't do as I asked. You never fucking do" that's when the bottom lip comes out. Normally this works on her brothers but not today "don't do that" YN sighs "sit down" YN sits down next to her twin taking a drink off the table "what do I have to do, to make you both fucking listen to me?" both Tommy and Arthur now join YN and Finn in one of the booths "you took a bullet. You could have been shot. You've both been running around the streets with fucking guns in your hands"

"Somebody has to" Finn says

"Finn, we've got people for that kind of work. And what's your excuse?" Arthur looks at YN who shrugs

"You all left, just me, Finn and Isaiah here now"

"Ahh your jealous"

"Am not"

"Your acting out to get our attention" Tommy catches on to YN's game "what about you Finn your a fucking Shelby, a general. When was the last time you saw a general near the blood and puke eh? Now on ya feet"

"I thought you ust said I was a general"

"I did just say you were"

"Get on your fucking feet" Arthur grabs his younger and tries to yank him up

"Arthur..." Tommy steps in "Finn, YN look at this" tommy holds a bullet in his hand "this is the bullet that Aberama Gold cut from you. First and last. That goes to you YN as well. I don't want to be hurrying my little sister in the ground or having to hunt down whoever shot her do you understand?"

"Yes Tommy" YN looks down

"Go get dressed" Arthur tells Finn

"Oh and while your here. I've met this girl we wanna get marrrie"

"Ha what 'ave I told you. They'll say no. I've been with Isaiah for 4 years and I'm still not to allowed get married" YN chuckles

"This girl your trying to impress. Tell me 'bout her"

"She like the life"

"She likes the life eh? Do what I've been telling YN for years. Find someone who hates the life. Look at him" Tommy nods to Arthur "that's what he did and now he's chairman of the board"

"Now off you go" Arthur says to Finn

"And you. Go home"

"Fine" YN sighs

"And I'm mean home. Not Isaiah's"

"One of these days I will marry Isaiah and there nothing you will be able to do" with that YN walks out of the pub to go to Isaiah's not caring what Tommy says.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader #tommy shelby #john shelby #arthur shelby #finn shelby #sister shelby #shelby sister

197 notes · View notes

familyvideostevie · 11 months

Text

a taste of the light

thank you for voting in this poll! please enjoy sirius being sweaty and annoying and beautiful in the summertime | 1.2k, fluff

It's been a swelteringly hot week. So much so that it's easier to be outside and hopefully catch some breeze than inside with about a hundred fans running as you slowly melt into a puddle onto the vaguely chilled tiles of your kitchen floor.

That's why you're lounging on a blanket underneath a tree with Lily as your boyfriend and your other friends play...frisbee? It's very unclear as to what the rules are, if any, or if they're even playing a real game. It looks to you like they're just tossing the piece of plastic back and forth and tackling the shit out of each other as they get all grassy and gross.

Marlene keeps calling for you and Lily to join but you both wave her off in favor of sprawling on the blanket, munching on grapes, sipping lemonade, and "reading." Lily is actually sneaking glances at James as you do the same at Sirius.

"It's a bit embarrassing how much faster Marlene is," Lily muses. "They haven't got a chance when she sets off."

You cheer as your friend seems to score what amounts to a point in this game. "And yet they still try."

"So," Lily says. It's a tone you know well -- she's about to ask you something she knows you won't want to answer. "How's it going? With Sirius?"

You've been together for months now. They've been the most fun, most exciting, most tender months of your life. You've come to learn that Sirius is utterly besotted with you despite how cool he is on the outside. He's intimidating, loud, and a bit prickly but he's also funny, fiercely loyal, and quite tender. Not to mention he's frankly beautiful.

But you're not very good with words. "What do you mean?" you say instead, turning to face the boys. Your eyes wander to Sirius first, but he and Marlene are busy trying to out maneuver each other.

Lily tosses her firey hair over her shoulder and pops a grape into her mouth. "Oh, fine," she scoffs. "Play that game."

"You used to do that about James!" You remember back in the day before they figured their shit out when they used to moon at each other across every single room. Torturous for everyone involved.

She laughs loudly and you watch as James turns towards the sound like a flower towards the sun and consequently gets smacked in the head with a frisbee and falls to the ground.

"Eyes on the prize, Potter!" Lily calls, evidently not worried. "He's got a hard head," she says to you.

"Looking gorgeous, Evans!" James shouts from the ground.

"Don't think you're getting out of my question," she mutters, waving at him. Your eyes find Sirius again. He and Remus are now doing...cartwheels? Marlene is laughing at them as she goes to help James up.

Your boyfriend is the only one with his shirt off. His chest shines and you know he tossed it somewhere so he could show off his tattoos, which you can't complain about. He's got gorgeous pieces on his chest and back and arms, making him look like a rock god or something. It sounds corny in your own head but Sirius is gorgeous and you never know how to articulate it. His long tangle of curls are frizzy as he shakes them out like a dog, sweat glistening on his collarbones and the gold rings in his ears and nostril glinting in the sunshine. He's so beautiful it makes your stomach flip.

"We're happy," you tell Lily. She snorts.

"You're looking at him like you've just gotten back from starving on a desert island and he's your first meal."

It's your turn to laugh as you look back at your friend. "So verbose, Lily." She winks at you and then hops to her feet.

"Oi! Potter!" she calls, heading onto the grass. "Think you can bench me?"

Before you can think of following her, someone flops onto the blanket into her spot.

"Hiya, beautiful," Sirius says, resting his head into his hands. His muscles ripple. He's not sculpted, not exactly, but he's physically strong underneath it all as he is in so many things.

"Hiya...sweaty," you say. You take a sip of your lemonade just so you have something to do with your hands. You told Lily the truth -- it's been months and while he's seen every inch of you by now, sometimes he still makes you a little shy.

"You seemed to like it a few minutes ago when you were ogling me."

"I was not ogling you."

"Yes, you were," he says, grinning. His canines make him look wolfish. "A bit indecent, really."

"Sirius," you groan, reaching out to gently smack his bare chest and finding it tacky with sweat. You really should find it gross but you can admit that you like everything about him.

He catches your hand and holds it to his ribcage. "Sill like it up close?" he teases.

Your cheeks are on fire now and you look back to the field to see the rest of your friends up to their own shenanigans and not paying you any attention. You like Sirius. You like him a whole lot, actually. Most days you're pretty sure you love him and he is your boyfriend, but he's always been braver than you, louder, more confident.

"They're not watching," he says softly. "Which means I can do this." In an instant he's up and you're on your back on the blanket and he's over you, arms caging your face and knees bracketing your hips.

"Oh," you say, and he grins that wide grin again, the one that makes your belly tighten.

"Oh, indeed."

"You smell," you manage to say, clinging desperately to your rapidly fading composure. Sirius does it all -- he flirts with you, he riles you up, he satisfies you. But he also gets your favorite flavor of yoghurt from the shop to keep in his fridge and switched his detergent when it irritated your skin. He takes your makeup off when you're tired and lets you take off his when you're feeling a bit needy. You think he loves you and you hope he fesses up soon because you'd very much like to tell him. Maybe his bravery will rub off on you and you'll say it one of these days.

"You love it," he says, lightly rubbing your noses together. Your eyes flutter closed.

"Maybe," you tell him. His lips hover over yours and you can feel his breath. Just when you're about to wrap your arms around his neck and tug him down... someone shouts.

"Public indecency!" James cries. "Remus, call the authorities!" Sirius tugs you close, letting you bury your face in his neck. He really does smell.

"Leave them alone," Remus says. "Do I need you remind you of the time you and Lily got caught behind the laundromat --"

"Hey!" Lily shouts.

"Sorry, love," Sirius whispers before he kisses your cheek quickly and springs to his feet. He holds out his hand and hauls you up into his arms. You try to grimace but it probably comes out as more of a grin, despite how embarrassed you are.

"Sirius, you really are sweaty," you mumble.

"Too bad," he says. He turns you so your friends have a view of his back before leaning in to kiss you properly.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

#sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black fic #sirius black fluff #sirius black fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders

258 notes · View notes

demetris-cocksleeve · 5 months

Text

⚠️IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT⚠️

Hey, guys... so I've been writing on here for the last 2 years (almost 3) and while I have loved every second of it I can't do it anymore.

I can't....

...keep Pirate! Bakugo to myself any longer...

Imagine you're running, through shabby alleys and past the cess pools your town calls taverns, weaving through the crowded pathways; a couple of men are chasing you, their angry shouts getting mixed with the hustle of the busy streets. You turn your head to risk a glance at your pursuers- shit, they're closer than you thought.

Just as you turn your head back and go to put once last push into your gait, you slam into something big and solid. The sudden arm in your way clotheslines you and sends you scrambling for anything to keep you upright. Not that you need to- the same arm that sent you reeling now has the front of your shirt, hauling you upright.

"Oi!-" The arm's owner barks out, just to be interrupted by the men chasing you.

"Thank you! This little bitch stole our coin," the shorter of the pair turns his yellowed snarl to your form, still held in the strangers steel-like grip.

"I stole nothing!" You growl back, desperately trying to free yourself. Your nails dig into your captor's wrist, but he remains unfazed.

You finally see his face when he turns to you. His eyes bore into your own as he stares you down. "D'ja take their shit?"

His messy blonde hair casts a scary loom over the top half of his face, almost making his blood reds glow. "I didn't steal anything..." you grunt out, trying to yank yourself free.

"So, you're a thief AND a lia-" The taller accuser snarks.

"Enough," the man holding you says, deadly calm. "She said she didn't steal it, so go."

The men raise their voices, yelling their injustices. The second man makes a swipe at you, trying to tug you away from your newfound savior. In a flash, the man yanks you behind him and clocks him in the jaw, felling him.

The other evidently decides that there are more important things to squabble over because he leaves his companion in the dust, clutching his face.

"Leave." The blonde growls, towering over the guy's pathetic form.

Neither of you moves as he scrambles away, stumbling over himself as he rounds a corner.

Your eyes widen. "Wha-"

Once gone, he turns to look at you. "Where is it?"

"-Don't play games with me. Where is it?"

You huff as you reach into your bra and pull out to coin purse. "How'd you know?"

"Only the guilty run. Now hand it over."

Eyeing his outstretched hand, you contemplate how far you could get if you ran. When he cocks his eyebrow, you relent, handing the bag over. You've done enough running today to last you a lifetime.

"What are you? An undercover constable?"

His face twists into an ugly snarl, "Opposite end o' the spectrum, doll." You watch as he counts out the gold, pocketing a few coins and tossing the bag back to you.

"Don't look at me like that- Pirates don't work for free."

Now imagine that each time he comes to port, you end up running into each other. Sometimes figuratively, other times literally (you're very prone to be chased through the streets - it's definitely NEVER your fault, though...).

You've seen him beat people up for looking at him the wrong way, so the confusion never fades about why he decided to help you all those months ago. You've asked, of course, but all you get is a noncommittal grunt or a large palm pushing you away by the face as he trudges past you.

Eventually, the "coincidental" visits turn into gifts- nothing huge, just little trinkets that "I've no use for the damned thing, thought cha might, though..."

Dont ask. I've had this in my drafts for almost 3 years, so I figured I'd just post it, lmao. If there's any grammar mistakes/spelling errors, blame 17 year old me, I didn't proofread this - I just added that first bit🙃

#katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou imagine #fantasy au #mha #my hero academia #mha x reader

69 notes · View notes

oh-surprise-its-me · 8 months

Note

Roy/Jamie prompt: Pirate AU. Jamie is being shipped to a loveless arranged marriage to Rupert or some other awful jerk. En route his ship is attacked by the dreaded pirate Captain Roy Kent and his crew. Roy's expecting a whiny, arrogant little rich kid to hold for ransom. Instead Jamie is fearless and doesn't give Roy an inch no matter what Roy threatens him with. At one point, Roy bluffs that he's whip Jamie proper, only for Jamie to tear his shirt off and reveal that his father's already left plenty of marks. Jamie eventually earns his place as part of Roy's crew, and more importantly, as husband to the dread Captain Kent himself.

If there’s something I love more then vampires it’s pirates. I absolutely can do this.

*Jamie’s mom is dead in this au because there’s no way she would ever let her baby be sold*

Jamie is furious. He’s worth so much more then just 500 gold pieces. At the very least 2000, he’s hot. He knows it.

He slams his fists on the locked door. It still doesn’t give. Jamie collapses back onto the cot they tossed at him. He figures he’ll catch a few more hours of sleep.

Jamie is just about to drift off when there’s screaming. He hears a new voice. A deep voice.

Jamie can hear it through the wood of the door so he must be close. “Unlock this now.”

The door swings open. Jamie stares up.

The man is gorgeous. The captain of their ship is standing behind him. A cruel laugh escapes the caption’s lips, “you’re in for it now Tartt.”

Jamie glares at him. The dark haired man gestures and he is dragged away. Jamie blinks. Oh. The man bends down to look at Jamie. He glances around the small room and sees all the clothing Rupert had sent.

“Pretty rich boy here should get us a nice ransom. Take him. I’m your new owner for the time being.” The man stands and gives a fake bow, “Roy Kent. At your service.”

Jamie shrieks. He’s heard stories. He knows who this is. He’ll not move unless he wants to thank you. Two men come toward him. They try to grab him but he bites them. He gets smacked by Roy. He’s been hit harder many times but it was unexpected. “Stop it boy. Be good. Let them carry you or I will.”

Jamie lightly struggles once again but let’s the two men carry him this time. As they leave the ship he looks at the bodies. Jamie can’t honestly say he feels bad for them, they all said horrid things they wanted to do to him. What Rupert would allow them to do.

He shudders without meaning to. The man on his right laughs, “cold princess?” Jamie slams his head into the man’s nose. Blood starts pouring out.

“Oi!” Jamie freezes. Fuck.

“Sink their ship then we need to teach princess here a lesson in manners.”

Jamie sighs. He looks at the man he head butted, his nose is probably broken. He feels a bit bad because the man was just following orders. But oh well.

They toss him into a cell. It’s going to be a long trip.

They’ve yell at him, dump cold water on him. Roy has threatened to take away his clothing. To shave his head. Jamie refuses to break.

He won’t do it.

He thinks the captain is slowing getting a bit of respect for Jamie.

Until that night.

It’s just the two of them again, Roy has a whip in his hand, he taps it against the bars. “I’ll make you talk with this. Final chance Tartt.”

Jamie laughs. He can’t help it.

He strips off his shirt and turns around. There’s an inhale of air. “You can’t do worse then what my old man did. Go ahead and try if you can find space.”

Theres utter silence from Roy.

Jamie spins around. He knows the front isn’t as bad but there’s still marks. Mostly from cigar burns.

“I’m sorry.”

Jamie thinks maybe he hit his head. “You’re what?”

Roy tosses the whip across the ship. “Sorry. I shouldn’t of made assumptions. They never get people places. Never got me anywhere.”

Jamie nods. He can understand that. Roy reaches forward and unlocks the cage. “Let’s talk. Come to my cabin. You can have clean clothes.”

Now Jamie knows it might be dumb but he’s exhausted, wet, and starving. He shrugs and picks up his shirt. He doesn’t care who sees his scars.

As they make their way up to the cabin they pass people, Colin, the man who’s nose Jamie broke, gasps when he sees his back.

It makes Jamie smile. He’s always loved shocking people.

Roy gestures for him to go into the cabin. It’s warmer. Jamie picks up a loaf of bread and bites into it.

Roy stares at him for a second before getting clothing. He passes it over. “It’ll be big it’s mine. We’ll try and find some in your size.” Jamie nods. Seems like the captain might like him. Interesting.

Jamie could start to like the captain.

10 months later it’s not just Roy who is feared, the blond who is now constantly seen at his side is always spoke of along with Roy’s name.

They say his name is Jamie Kent. He rescues people in trouble or from abusive marriages. They say he gutted his owner once Roy freed him. Those are just rumors though. The man who was supposed to marry Jamie actually went missing months before.

What no one really knows though is Rupert’s head made a lovely proposal gift. How could Jamie ever say no to that.

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #jamie x roy #royjamie #jamie tartt x roy kent #pirate au #thanks for the ask !!#I hope you like it!

94 notes · View notes

freckled-koi · 6 months

Text

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒂𝒓

summary: you've known gojo since your training days at jujutsu tech. you were inseparable - as thick as thieves. so, what happened?

pairing: satoru gojo x reader (feat. nanami x reader).

cw: angst, emotional manipulation / mental spiral, mature themes. 18+ / minors dni.

wc: 3k+.

a/n: second chapter is now up! this is starting to become more of a slowburn of a fanfic, and honestly? i can dig with that as long as you can. <3 please enjoy!

( ◡ ◡ ♪ ) ｡

highly suggest reading chapter 001. first! you can also read it here on ao3!

“When did you pick that up?”

You’re caught by surprise by the low purr of a voice filled with curiousness, snapping your head in the direction of it. You were in the middle of lighting the cigarette dangling from your lips, the fire from the lighter going out when you released the mechanism. You were just alone standing by yourself outside of school, not expecting to run into anyone in particular.

“Don’t tell me hanging around Shoko is rubbing off on you..” The man sighs, amusingly hopeless at his own words. Your eyes scan over his much sharper features all the way up to his jet black tresses tied back into a bun to keep the longer strands away from his face and down his back.

You always found it a shame he never cared for his hair down that much. It framed his face better.

All you do is let out a light laugh, shrugging your shoulders as you pluck the cigarette from between your tiers to speak.

“Shoko and I bum off each other’s smokes whenever we hang out,” You try to become a voice of reason, but you realize it’s not going to do much when you see a flicker of disbelief on the man’s features.

“Don’t tell me you rag on Shoko for smoking, Suguru.”

“Even if I did, she would still do it–”

“Which is why, I’m going to continue doing it~ It helps.”

Suguru Geto doesn’t protest it, knowing he wouldn’t win the war on what was healthily correct for you. All he does is manage a smile, taking a small glance around their surroundings.

It was a bad habit you would dabble in for quite some time, but coming to Jujutsu Tech, you started doing it much more. You even found a small bond with Shoko one night after a stressful trial assignment when you were just a newbie sorcerer. She caught you whipping out a pack you rifled through your bag to find and asked to have one.

You sort of found comfort in doing it more than ever.

Maybe it was a bad way to manage coping with stress, but old habits will die hard.

You sigh after taking a moment to debate, eventually tucking the unlit cigarette back into its packaging and store it away into your bag. Smoking could wait until you were back at home.

Golden hour was upon them when you stand with Geto, glancing back at him as he’s found meeting your gaze. The hues over his skin made him stand like a god, it was almost sickening how pretty someone was without even trying. Although, there were signs of distress under his eyes that you were suspicious about. He looked.. Worn. As if sleep wasn’t something he was getting much of late.

“Are you waiting on Satoru?”

“Not quite.. I just so happened to begin my route home and just caught sight of you.”

There’s a quirk in your brow to his words, an amused expression crossing Geto’s features when he looks at you with a quiet laugh leaving him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

You shrug.

“Usually you’d be the one walking home with him.”

All Geto does is shrug off the statement, a smile still gracing his lips.

“He’s got his own thing going on.”

“Like you do?” You ask with jest in your tone. It was only meant to be as a way to poke at Geto, but there’s a flicker of an emotion in his eyes that didn’t match the way his lips were still tugged into that signature smile of his. As if, to mask whatever emotion he was holding back.

“Yeah. I got my own thing going on.”

“Oi!”

The both of you break eye contact to see the taller white haired boy jogging over from afar, shades shimmering and gold reflecting off of them. It’s then that you see Suguru beginning to turn away, fixing the bag on his shoulders.

“That’s my cue to leave–”

“You’re not sticking around?” Your brows twitch together, staring after the other just as he slows in his steps by your words.

Geto is hesitant to reply, only giving you a small raise of his hand.

“Catch you later, Y/N.” He says his departing words with a care you knew was genuine, but it did nothing but cause a small dip in your stomach to it.

All you do is watch as Geto grows further and further away with you, the white haired boy now caught up completely to where you stand.

“Hey, ready to go?”

The question is almost muffled to you, hardly tearing you away from your gaze settled on Geto. You couldn’t help the idle pondering of what was just going on with him. It was highly unlikely that he wouldn’t stick around to chat with Gojo, because he was always around Gojo. So, what changed?

“Y/N?” It’s when Gojo says your name that you break away from your thoughts, turning your head to look up at him and he has that feigned innocent expression on his features you’ve only seen a small handful of times.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said~, are you ready to go?”

“Oh, right– Yeah.”

You’d push it back to your mind to think on later. Gojo had been begging you to come back to his place to hang out, to watch the latest cheesy rom-com that he had been blabbering about for the longest time and wouldn’t stop until you caved to accompany him.

It’s then that you two start to walk together side by side, drawing your lips inward in thought before your gaze returns back up to the other. You tried pushing it to the back of your mind, but your curiosity gets the best of you.

“Is he doing okay?”

“Who?”

“Satoru, you can’t be serious.” You sigh hopelessly.

All he can muster is a sheepish laugh, his arm swinging around the space between your arm and shoulder to draw you close to his side. The affection wasn’t too unfamiliar, having a knack for breaking that personal bubble of yours just to be handsy. You were sure his love language was physical touch.

“Suguru’s fine~ I speak to him in passing when you’re not around, you know,”

“Hm..” You exhale a soft hum with the concern still written on your features.

“He really is fine. I try to check in on him, but we’re always off doing our own assignments these days anyway.”

It wasn’t reassuring in the slightest, the way Gojo spoke, but you decide that it was best to drop the topic at hand before he got riled up. Maybe you’d try and catch Geto at the right time and place for a chat the next time you crossed his path.

Your head tilts a bit to get a better look at Gojo when you walk and he meets your gaze, trying to look past his dark shades with a playful grimace.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you always have to cling onto me like this?” You joke, but you don’t pry yourself away from his side at all. Even with what happened moments ago, Gojo’s body was like an anchor for you to ease your nerves – no matter how many times he stepped on them for fun.

It only brings a sly grin stretching over his lips as he leans down some to rest his head on top of yours, rubbing his face into your hair like a cat.

“Aww, but you like it, don’t you, Y/N~? A handsome guy like myself being all over you~”

“Ugh–” You snicker just before you’re pressing your palm to his side to give the both of you some distance, playfully gagging to the way he speaks. “You’re literally disgusting.”

“Oh, come on~” Gojo whines, reaching to draw you back to his side and place his arm back where it laid.

“You know, I wouldn’t have pegged you to be the American movie watcher type.”

You comment just as you’re taking a sip from the mug of black tea you found in the kitchen after you changed into the loungewear you had packed for your stay, idly twirling the tea bag string with your finger as you watched him set-up the television from the sofa.

Gojo stands proud and tall, the DVD he was flopping around in his hold now on his finger as he grins in your direction, even going as far as showing off, using his Infinite to make it hover.

“I’ve been dabbling here and there into American movies, so I can’t help but have a growing obsession over them~ Don’t have to understand the language to enjoy something great,” He laughs and that just makes your lips quirk up into a smile.

You find his childish excitement rather endearing. The moment he catches your smile, he pauses and allows the disk to fall flat into his palm and he’s turning to place it into the player.

“Plus, subtitles exist.”

The comment makes you snort softly, taking a careful sip from your tea just as you set the top of the mug onto your thigh.

Gojo and you would do this often. You’d kick back at his place on a Friday night watching a numerous amount of films since you both were big time cinephiles. He had a guest room always made up for you, so you didn’t have to worry about the time getting away from you and beating the clock past curfew to get home.

Most of the time it was horror movies, other times it was action and adventure. The films you indulged in with Gojo were a variety, but the romance comedy ones were new for you. Not that you’ve never seen one, you just didn’t find any interest in them until Gojo was practically on his hands and knees to have you sit in on one with him.

After he places the disk into the player, passing through trailers you both didn’t care much for, the movie is now playing on the screen and he moves to join you on the sofa.

Usually, he would be a cushion over, but he’s placed himself close to you this time.

Odd.

You don’t think twice about it.

His arm settles onto the back rest of the sofa right behind you, leg propped up onto his knee away from you. Your legs were crisscrossed into a more comfortable position, allowing your attention to be directed towards the screen.

The plot was easy to understand from the get-go. Two women hardly enjoying their places in life, their resided homes across the world, so they switch homes for a little vacation. The brother of one meets the girl staying in the one woman’s little English cottage, while the other meets a complete stranger that knows how to produce music in the other’s mansion.

The two of you share a laugh at some parts, Gojo making idle comments out loud to you and to mostly himself throughout the middle of the film.

It was a traditional, corny romance movie – something you weren’t incredibly surprised by. The build up of the lingering romance between the two couples were clearly enamoring, so you’re definitely surprised with yourself when you’re so focused on the film.

You feel a subtle brush in your tresses near your shoulder that causes a small shudder that crawls up your neck. Thank God you knew how to use your peripherals so you didn’t have to turn your head to look, catching Gojo still facing towards the screen with his features lit up by the television screen that shapes his side profile. The expression he wears is soft, and it’s an expression you haven’t familiarized yourself with since getting to know Gojo.

You knew more than the average acquaintance, but not in the similar manner as he was with Geto or Shoko.

The brush of fingertips graze along your shoulder through your crewneck, dragging up over the neckline, playing right at the hem where fabric ended and your flesh began.

What is he doing?

Maybe it was just a mindless thing he caught himself doing. It doesn’t help that the goosebumps are beginning to form underneath your sweater, gripping the now lukewarm mug you were clinging onto during the movie.

You can hardly pay attention to the movie now, a little distracted but you remain strong and a little still, wondering what he was going to do next.

However, Gojo doesn’t really go any farther past the neckline, even taking pauses in his movements. It’s when you catch the pause that your head subconsciously turns a centimeter, and his eyes immediately flit to lock with your gaze.

He smiles and it’s one of the warmest smiles he’s worn, making your throat grow tight.

“.. Are you enjoying it?” Gojo says gently.

“Oh— Yeah, it’s pretty good so far..”

“See? I’m never wrong about these things~”

You quietly laugh, grinning now by the comment just as a few strands of hair fall past your face that were tucked loosely behind your ear. His hand resting near your shoulder lifts to bring over to neatly, delicately tuck them back into place. The subtle graze of his fingertips at your skin burns and you’re not sure if it’s because of how intimate the touch is or the contrast of his cool fingers on your gradually reddening skin. But he’s never gone as far as to do that.

Sure, he’d cling to you and rub his face on your shoulder, your head, but it was all just playful.

This wasn’t playful.

The only thing that fills the quiet between you two is the dialogue and musical score emanating from the television. Gojo’s attention wasn’t going back to the movie, and strangely, neither was yours. As if you both were wanting to say something, but nothing was coming to fruition.

Gojo is the first to break the silence.

“What are you so pretty for~?” He purrs.

It sounds so sickly sweet and makes a wave of warmth wash over you.

It’s hard to formulate words when he’s hardly doing a damn thing, and why it was affecting you now was beyond you.

All you manage is a roll of your eyes, head turning to face back towards the television.

“Oh, now you’re complimenting me?” You say in amusement.

“Hey,” Gojo’s hand reaches over to take your chin with his thumb and forefinger to guide your face back. You’re completely doe-eyed when you're brought back to fix your gaze onto his piercing blue set, his own lids low. “I wasn’t done looking.”

“Y- You see me every day, Satoru.”

“Mnn~.. Not like this though.” You didn’t realize it, but when he took hold of your chin, he closed the proximity between both of your bodies, just where his thigh just barely pressed to your own, hardly giving the both of you that space.

The position he put you in was making your heart race.

“Satoru..” You repeat his name again softly, and he sighs to that.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

Gojo’s lips quirk up into a gentle smile, the pad of his thumb brushing along the curve of your chin before it lifts to just barely touch the bottom of your lip.

“I want to try something with you.”

You feel that surge of warmth run through you again because you knew where this was going just based on the hold and the way his thumb runs delicately over your lower tier; How he looks at you – how close he was to you. It makes your stomach twist, your shoulders tense up. Hell, the idle thought of doing those sorts of things with Gojo was just a fleeting, intrusive thought all on its own, and you never really thought you or him would actually act on them. There were moments where those fleeting touches and catching each other’s gaze would make you feel some type of way. Maybe even the times where he was clinging onto you and pulling you in close too, but it was nothing you dwelled on for too long.

Gojo and you were just friends. Friends don’t do those sorts of things.

You’re hanging onto his words now, the movie now long forgotten and only becomes background noise at this point in time. You can’t even seem to give a response to his words and it only makes him quietly snicker to it.

Gojo shifts, closing that proximity between the two of you and only leaving just mere centimeters of your frame to his, guiding you by your chin and your body willingly follows suit.

“If it doesn’t work, I won’t do it again.”

It’s the last thing he says just before he’s leaning in, your eyes fall shut because staring at him with that doe-eyed look you were getting accustomed to was crazy. The hands around the mug are tight, you almost could break the glass if you squeezed it any tighter. It’s then that Gojo completes his goal of making sure there was no room left between the two of you, his lips finding purchase on your own in a slow kiss.

It’s so warm and delicate, mindlessly melting into just how much he’s drawing you in by it. You never thought this was how it would feel to kiss Gojo. Maybe it was entertained in your mind for much longer than you would admit – you felt it would be the type to rush, sticking his tongue down someone’s throat in the heat of the moment, but he was taking his time. The palm of his hand slides with ease to cradle the side of your face now, thumb dragging over the apple of your flushed cheek just as his lips part to take it a step further, almost as if he was deepening the kiss and your own couplets follow.

What am I doing?

There’s a sliver of realization that comes back to you and your eyes flutter back open, retracting from the kiss with a soft sound. Your eyes meet with Gojo’s piercingly blue orbs, almost a little surprised by how short the lip lock was between you two.

“I– I have to use the bathroom–” You quickly declare, and you only can remember the small flicker of confusion crossing Gojo’s expression just as you scramble to set the mug on the coffee table.

You feel you grasp at your hand, stopping you from moving any further from your place near the sofa. You snap your head towards Gojo’s hand holding yours before they reach his eyes again. There’s a clear look of surprise on your features to him grabbing you. Didn’t he say if it didn’t work out, he wouldn’t do it again?

“Wait, Y/N–”

“Just– Just give me a second.” You say firmly and Gojo takes that as a sure sign to back off, allowing you to push off his hand as he slumps back into the sofa and you make your way to the bathroom just around the corner.

Locking the door behind you, you finally sigh out as if you were holding your breath the entire time. Your hands come up to push at your tresses, doing a small pace in the minimal space of the bathroom.

“What the fuck.. What the fuck.” Your hands come up to shield your face as you stop in front of the sink, having to just replay what just happened. Was he doing that just to fuck with you? Maybe entertain something and go beyond just kissing, to get you to do more? Did he mean to do any of that? Hell, you must’ve had his attention with how much time you both had spent around each other and him doing this was more than clear.

It was all way too overwhelming and confusing for you to process, hands now bracing the edge of the sink after reaching to turn the faucet on. Your eyes linger on your reflection in the mirror, staring over the flush on your cheeks and how widely blown your eyes were, brows knitted together in frustration.

Gojo put you in such a vulnerable state, it was almost becoming uncomfortable the more you thought about it. You bring your lips inward, fixing your posture as you bring a hand to your lips to touch. The kiss was.. Lovely, but.. You were wishing you were more mentally prepared before he decided to just ‘try something’ with you.

After a while longer, you come out of the bathroom. It was quiet for the most part, figuring he must have paused the movie after you left.

You return to the room and you see Gojo is still seated, one arm over the back of the sofa while the other is propped up on the arm of it, hand balled up and resting his chin there. He switched positions, being at the very end of the couch.

It’s when he feels your presence, he turns his head back to you, facial features relaxed as he stares over your frame.

The both of you are so quiet, you don’t even know what to say to him before you’re walking back over. This time, you seat yourself at the opposite end of the sofa, and he watches you as you move.

You break the silence first.

“Can we.. finish the movie?”

You request with a hesitance in your tone, bringing your legs back up to crisscross back into their original position and all Gojo does is nod once and he’s hitting play on the remote.

Both of you sit in an awkward silence, hardly even responding to the movie’s plot and reveling in the moment you both shared not even minutes ago.

Both of the girl’s get the guys they weren’t hoping to find in the film.

The hands resting on one another in your lap tightens to that.

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru x you #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru #gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jujustu kaisen fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #anime #anime fic #anime fanfiction

56 notes · View notes

quicksilverownsmysoul · 2 years

Note

Marc would get so mad if his nail polish got chipped during a fight. Then he'd come home and pout about it until you redid them for him or he'd try to redo them himself and mess them up

Omg he so would. He’d be fuming and try and do it himself before coming to you all pouty to fix it.

Touch Ups

Summary: part two to my fic after hours. Marc tries and fails to fix his nail polish after it chipped with a little help from Steven

Warnings: Marc, being marc and some steamy undertones

Read Part 1 here!

Marc dealt the final punch to the face of his latest victim, before dropping him to the floor with a grunt. He stepped back and titled his head as the suit retracted from his body. He flexed his hands, taking note of the bruises that littered his skin and the the cuts that managed to break the protection of the suit. It was nothing you couldn’t fix, in fact it was one of the only perks of this hellish agreement. Having you take care of him after fights while you patched him up, loving touches and lingering kisses as you chided him for getting hurt.

“Shit.” He mumbled, noting that among the bruises and cuts his nail polish had been chipped. The black polish was chipped on almost all of his fingers, the delicate cold crescents that you had painted smeared and missing. “Fuck!” He kicking at the broken mess of pottery and debris that surrounded him. “Oi, you good mate?” Steven asked, looking at him from on of the cloudy puddles on the street.

“No.” Marc barked. “I chipped the nail polish (y/n) did the other night.”

Steven nodded his head in understanding. “It was nice wasn’t it.”

“Yeah it was.” Marc kicked at the ground like a child throwing a fit, anger bubbling inside of him. He wasn’t going to be able to see you till the weekend, Khonshu had sent him on an abroad mission that was set to last till the end of the week. That stupid pigeon. “Now it looks all ugly and ruined.” Marc picked that the polish, not wanting to look at it any longer, he felt as if he had dishonored you in ruining it.

“Why don’t you fix it?” Steven asked. Marc scoffed, shooting his alter a look that had Steven wincing and curling back into himself. “Nah you’re right mate, my bad.”

“So you think I can’t do it?” Marc challenged.

“Hey I didn’t say that.”

“But you were thinking it.”

It was Stevens turn to be offended. “No I wasn’t.”

“Yeah right.”

Steven shrugged, letting out a huff of his own. “Fine then, fix it.”

“I will.” Marc, replied, standing a little taller.

“Okay.”

“I can do it.” Marc growled.

“Okay.”

“Shut up.” Marc, kicked at the puddle causing the image of Steven to ripple before he turned down the street looking for a store that sold nail polish.

*******************************************************

“I don’t think that’s quite right.” Steven worried, his voice echoing the words Marc was thinking. Marc tried again to paint the crescent on the messy black polish only for it to bleed into the black. The shop didn’t have gold so it was a bright banana yellow that stained the skin around his nails. “Bit messy innit? Ain’t the yellow supposed to stay on the black.”

Marc slammed the nail brush down on the counter, rounding to stare at his alters reflection in the window. “You wanna try.”

Steven had a hint of a smile on his face that he was trying his best to hide. “Nah you got this Marc. I believe in ya.”

Marc mumbled curses under his breath before trying to resume his work. It was impossible, the brush was too small for his hands and it seemed that no matter how long he waited the paint never seemed to dry. “Screw this.” He grumbled, roughly closing the lid shut. He was going home to you tomorrow you could fix it then, and hopefully he would be able to get rid of his monstrosity of a paint job by then.

As expected Marc showed up to your shared apartment as he always did, battered and bruised as he assured you it was nothing. You gave him a tight hug and welcomed him in and he came in in a way that had you wondering if he was hiding a bigger injury from you. You sat him down on the edge of the bed as you began to fuss over him. You got out your first aid kit and laid in down next to him.

He opened his legs and allowed you to step in between them as you always did. You grabbed his face by his chin between your thumb and index finger, tipping his head back to look at you. He had resist the urge to whimper at the innocent action, you sent him a smirk. “At least let me patch you up first.”

He huffed impatiently, hands coming up to squeeze your waist, pulling you a little closer. “Easy honey.” He buried his face in your stomach before letting you tilt his head back again. You smiled at him as you examined his face, “Should I start on that cut under your eye first, it looks like it hurts.”

You lightly pressed the area around it and he winced, you apologized before opening up your kit. He grabbed your he wrist before you could grab the disinfectant. “Actually, can you touch up something else first?”

You nodded. “Sure.” You waited for him to tell you what he wanted you to fix, he bowed his head before lifting his hands up for your to see. “The cuts?” You asked.

“No.” He mumbled, ears tinting red. “The polish.” You looked down and stifled a laugh at the sight you were greeted with. The polish was somehow dry in some areas and wet in other, a bright yellow bleeding into the black and staining nearly all this fingertips.“You’re laughing.” He grumbled, trying to yank his hands back.

“I’m not.” You replied, a small laugh breaking at the end of your sentence.

Marc let out a chuckle. “You are. You so are baby.”

“What happened?” You asked.

He kept his gaze on his feet embarrassed to admit it. “I chipped the polish durning a fight and I uh tried to fix it. Steven was no help.” He added, eyes narrowing at the lack of help from his alter.

You laughed, heart warming at the sentiment of him caring so much he tried to fix the damage. “Hey you did pretty good for your first time.”

He scoffed. “Yeah right.”

“I’m serious, a first class paint job if I’ve ever seen one.”

He rolled his eyes sending you a smile. “Good enough to paint your nails sometime.”

You returned his smile. “Of course.”

You picked up your first aid kid only for Marc to stop you again. “What about my nail polish.”

“Marc I think I should patch up your injuries before your polish.”

“That’s debatable.” He smirked, letting your hand go to resume your previous work. You rolled your eyes at him, letting him pull you closer and kiss up your arms as you worked, happy to have him home. And looking forward to painting each other’s nails later.

#marc spector x y/n #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector imagine #marc spector moon knight #marc spector fluff #steven grant imagine #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant fluff #steven grant fanfiction #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight x reader #moon knight fluff #marc spector fanfic #marvel #marvel x reader #oscar issac x reader

1K notes · View notes

wallflower-collection · 1 year

Text

A Moment of Peace

Summary - After a night of setting up pranks, Fred Weasley is on a search to find a certain ravenclaw, you.

Word Count - 983

It was the middle of night, actually it was already well past midnight when the pair of young men found themselves walking down the long hallway. Rain was loudly pounding on the windows and Fred sighed to himself thinking of how grateful he was that this nights’ pranking plans could all be set up indoors. “Think it’s time we go back to the dorm,” George asked his brother.

“Why don’t you head back and I’ll catch up? I’ve got one last spot to set up.” George raised his eyebrow at his twin's response, he knew there were no more pranks to be placed. Against his best judgment, George bid Fred goodnight and trekked to his dorm room for a much needed sleep. Fred was headed straight for Ravenclaw tower, which just happened to be your house. Fred had bribed a first year to prop the door open for him to make it easier to pay you a nighttime visit. As he reached the top of the steps he mumbled a quiet “perfect” as the door was just ever so slightly ajar.

To his surprise though, you were not in your normal spot in the common room. Although he would never call it dating, it now had become a routine for him to visit you after everyone else had gone to bed. Fred was sure you knew he’d be coming to see you tonight. You had even told him you’d be sitting by the fireplace waiting for him. He took in a deep breath thinking of where you could possibly be. You’d never been late to see him, in fact, he’s never known you to be late for anything.

A tightens began to form in his chest as his mind raced. “You cannot possibly be worried about them,” he thought to himself before continuing on with his list of places to search for you. Fred began to pace the common room and decided it would be best to first see if you were on the upper floor. He knew for a fact that as soon as he saw you he’d have to criticize your now imperfect record of being on time. After practically leaping up the flight of stairs Fred found himself in another large living space. He was the only person in it.

His fists balled up at his sides as his heart began to race even faster. His one last shot before promptly breaking down your room’s door and perhaps searching the entirety of Hogwarts for you was the set of gold spiral stairs in the middle of the room. He knew that the Ravenclaw common room had multiple floors seeing as it was a tower, but how many could this place have? These stairs, however, didn’t lead to another room at all. Fred found himself at the very top of Ravenclaw tower, free from the walls of Hogwarts.

“Y/N,” he shouted, which caused you to jump with surprise. This was very precarious seeing as you were sitting on the railing of the balcony with your back against a stone pillar. You had come to the top of the tower for a moment of peace. You would never give up a chance to sit outside during a rainstorm. “What are you doing out here in the rain,” Fred questioned you. He quickly wrapped his arms around you to hold you steady against his chest. You could hear the quick, hard beats of his heart as your right ear was pressed against his chest.

“Frederick Gideon, were you worried about me,” you questioned him.

“It’s very self indulging for you to think that,” he quickly snapped back.

“I never thought I’d see the day Fred Weasley was so worried about me that his first instinct was to hold me in his arms,” you said with a chuckle.

“Oi! It’s only because you aren’t as perfect as you seem. You were late to see me, I thought only the worst could be happening to you. Why else would there be a reason for you not to see me,” Fred responded as he took a step back from you. You swung your legs over the railing and placed both of your feet flat on the ground. “You think I’m perfect,” you asked sarcastically. A soft growl could be heard escaping Fred’s lips.

You walked over to him and softly placed both your hands on his chest. He turned his head up and away from you. This gave you the perfect opportunity to place a swift kiss along his jawline. He quickly moved his head back down to look at you and you would almost swear you saw a faint blush creep across his cheeks. “It is sweet that you were worried, honestly,” you spoke to him. He wrapped his arms around you, leaving no space between the two of you. Fred placed a kiss on your head and said,” Don’t expect me to be going soft on you now.”

“Never would dream of it. I would absolutely never call you to my aid.”

“You shouldn’t. I’d just pretend I couldn’t hear you.”

“So do I get you to myself tonight,” you asked cheekily.

“Will there be any innocent roommates in the vicinity,” Fred asked.

“Shouldn’t be, they all left for the night.”

“I will grace you with my presence until dawn then if you would like.”

“You’ve never even been awake early enough to know what dawn is,” you said to him. You pulled yourself out of his arms and took one of his rough hands in yours. Guiding him back to your dorm room, a place he’ll never forget how to find. Although he may never admit it, the two of you fell asleep soundly that night after Fred explained to you what pranks he and George had been setting up that night. You, of course, we’re curled up tightly in his arms.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley fluff #wizarding world imagine #wizarding world fanfiction

177 notes · View notes

squishycheekanon · 2 years

Text

Folklore!Piglin!Techno

The name

“You’re a Piglin.” You say with such venom that the golden man in front of you flinches, pulling back a little. He sighs placing the wine down in front of you next to the berries and meat, he eyes your body his rubies lingering on your chest, they sparkle when your nipples harden.

Out of instinct you cross your arms over your chest putting his fun to an end, he huffs but it’s more like a chuckle. He picks up a berry from your pile of food and offers it to you again, the stains on his hand becoming bigger.

“Come on fiðrildi, you must be a little hungry.” You shake your head pushing his hand away the berry falling on the floor with the movement. “svo þrjóskur.” The beast tilts his head at you a disapproving grunt emanating from his throat.

“Why am I here?” You demand trying your hardest to ignore the rumble of your tummy that makes the piglin’s face light up. The drums and music getting louder the more frustrated you became.

“You know what I am fiðrildi, you must know what it is you are doing here.” His smirk was wiped away by your scowl, he’d never seen anything so serious and unhappy in his life. He hated the sight of it. The fire in your eyes had only just relit itself again he couldn’t let you, yourself snuff it out.

“You are my bride.” He stated leaving no room for argument not that you could even talk, your shock too much to handle. Your eyes widened with a strong dizzy spell washing over you, no no no! You remember this in the song, the next verse something about a bride but you can’t think of the words. The crowned man stood and began to walk away, this infuriated you, how dare he say such a thing then just walk away!

“Oi! Come back here this instant!” You stormed after him while he looked like he was taking a leisurely stroll. “I am not your bride! I am engaged to another man!” You screeched not expecting him to whip around, the sound of fairy music and cheerfulness no longer surrounding you, no longer making you feel some what safe.

He laughs loudly, it's musical and haunting all at the same time, it pisses you off and lifts your spirits at the same time, “You are my bride to be fiðrildi, make no mistake about that.” He turns once again and is off, you glance behind you but the campfire, piglins and music are nowhere to be found. It slightly shocks you but with everything that’s happening you have to just push on.

A small voice in the back of your mind is whispering that you’ll wake up soon and it’ll all be over but your gut is telling you to ignore it. This isn’t a dream.

With an irritated groan you begin following the Piglin beast, either that or be lost in the woods. The more you stare at him, study him you notice there’s an exotic naturalness to him. You are trying really really hard not to be attracted to him but your body seems to have a mind of its own, tingling when he speaks, butterflies when he looks at you.

You follow him to a large white tent, inside a big pile of pillows and blankets, “That’s your nest.” His whisper makes you jump, the breath on your skin hot and sinful, his chest pressed against your back and soon after his big arms circle your waist, a chin resting on your shoulder. His body felt so warm against yours, so good.

You should feel uncomfortable but unfortunately you don’t, you try to focus on the rest of the tent. The big chimney in the top middle, underneath it sat a little fire sat on a golden stump. To the left was a huge pile of gold, treasure and jewls. To the right was a bunch of different weaved baskets filled to the brim with food, drink, blankets, clothes and more.

At the back was the…nest?

“What’s a nest?” You mumble staring at the inviting pile of comforts.

“It’s where Piglin sleep and mate.” You almost choked on air at the latter, the word stood out to you pulling another memory of your Grandmother’s teachings to your mind. Mating is the most dangerous, once done you can never leave.

“But I’m not a Piglin so how is it mine?” You ask your mind fuzzy from the memory, the sound of her voice. She’s warning you and you’re not listening.

“Because you are mine.” A snarl had his lip curling, it sets your core on fire. Your lower abdomen cramping with desire, the rumbly deep hum says he knows.

You pulled away from his body stepping closer to the fire, it warmed you in the most innocent way it could, “I’m tired.” You muttered, you had only just realised how exhausted you felt, from falling asleep in your bed to waking up in the woods and meeting the Piglin man.

Your legs were shaking slightly, you needed to be asleep as soon as possible and funnily enough the man behind you agreed, “Come on then fiðrildi, into your nest.” The Piglin beast guided you onto the pile of blankets pulling one of the softest materials you’ve ever felt over your body. It was strange being spoken to like this, almost like a lover.

You watched through blurry eyes as the man stood and began to snuff out all the lights except for the dying fire in the middle of the room leaving a cozy ambience, he then pulled off all his jewellery and his crown.

“I don’t even know your name.” You slurred slightly your eyes fluttering close, the feel of the soft pillows lulling you to sleep. He got into the nest behind you, slipping under the large heavyweight blanket his hands finding your figure. He pulled you to him, inhaling your scent possessively before he spoke,

“Technoblade. You may call me eiginmaður.”

@victory-is-here

@simply-vulpecula

@lillianastuff

@megnotfound

@vanivivs

@angelicadiabolus

@itsberrydreemurstuff

@cherryblossomdelusion

@dreamwvrld

@lyn-soso

@fionamk1001

@maxismp1

@hungrycrazy

@bug-the-ghostie

@southerndragontamer

@rainymugpersonpalace

@when-you-cant-think-of-anything

@montygator17

420 notes · View notes

ohmygodshesinsane · 22 days

Text

Drop-Off | A Jily Micro-Oops

James Potter takes Lily Evans home, and wants to make something clear.

words: 1941 | for @jilymicro-oops | april prompt 22: ridiculous

sequel to unlicensed

read on ao3 or under the cut

“Hilarious, Potter. Left again.” James made a face and did as she said, playing it off like a laugh, still barely able to believe that she was in his car, in his proximity, breathing the same air as him.

“It’s like a rollercoaster.”

“It should be shut down.”

“Oi.” He jabbed his pinkie finger at the indicator and nudged it up, though the street was deserted. The blinker click-click-clicked, and a cat watched him from the top of a faded brick letterbox, tail flicking.

These roads were unfamiliar. They nestled together only a few blocks from the beach, but they were distinct from the shiny rows of glassy mid-rises, with their acai shops and coastal boutiques tucked beneath sprawling apartments. Sad single-storey brick homes dominated the little suburb of Cokeworth, gutters wonky, red-tile roofs slumping in the blunted sunlight. A leather lounge teetered on the curb, its peeling seats and flaking arms praying for a good home. James’s foot hovered on the brake, idling them along.

“Your joint’s around here?” he asked, frowning. In all his daydreams, he had never imagined Lily Evans living here. None of these places had room for the Beauty-and-the-Beast library her good grades demanded, or a pool for her to lay by in summer’s heights. No old ladies fidgeted, waiting for a reckless do-gooder to escort them across the street. A dog barked through the missing panes of a grey-wood fence.

“Nah,” Evans said, shrugging hard. “Just thought we’d take the scenic route.” She rapped her knuckles on the window. “Entertained?”

James swallowed. Touchy. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, cruising along, squashing down the sinking feeling that her sharp little remarks always wrought. She was just some girl in his class. She wasn’t Lizzie – Lizzie, who would be coming round later to ‘study for Chem’ in the media room, Lizzie who James had just invited to Pete’s birthday, Lizzie from the netball team, Lizzie who he reckoned he might properly ask out soon. Lizzie, not Lily.

Sure, some girl he’d liked when he was thirteen was sitting in the front seat, dark red hair pulled back in the swish of a ponytail, one knee slung over the other at the edge of her regulation black skirt, but it was whatever. She shifted, and her maroon jumper rose with the arch of her back and the stretch of her arms, revealing a swathe of the white cotton blouse beneath. Tiny gold hoop things glinted in her ears, and the light caught the flecks of forest in the emeralds of her gaze –

“Bump!” As Evans shouted, the car hit it, and the car hiked awkwardly over the raised crossing. “Jesus, again. It’s not GTA.”

“GTA’s not allowed in my house,” James answered flippantly. “It’s offensive to women.”

Evans guffawed; in the corner of his vision (because he really was trying to focus on the road now), she folded her arms indignantly, cheeks red. Bugger. Truth be told, he couldn’t say precisely why he had offered up his vaguely-illicit chauffeur service when he’d seen Snape stalk off without her. Evans had working legs – no, James wasn’t going to think about them, moving on – and was capable of walking herself home without that idiot hanging around. His eyes sharpened, raking down the sides of the street, as if the git might materialise. But in any case, it wouldn’t be dark for hours. Evans could have got herself home no worries. The words had just flung out of James’s mouth before he could think, and then he’d nearly keeled over with shock when she’d accepted, and so – here they sat.

Maybe the guilt from lunchtime had crept in. James had copped a week of detentions and a call home, but Lily had been hauled into McGonagall’s office, despite being innocent in the whole matter. She hadn’t destroyed Snape’s project. That fucker deserved it. James’s knuckles whitened around the wheel. Where the hell did he get off, talking to her that way? And now the whole school was muttering about prissy prefect Lily Evans getting a talking-to, and she’d not done a thing wrong – she was the one who had been wronged. His fingers itched for Snape’s throat. Half of James wanted to chuck a u-turn and speed back until he found the sulky little Slytherin, and then he could land one right in the middle of his stupid, petulant, ugly –

“Are you kidding?” Oh, shit. James was doing fifteen over. Not that Evans’s eyes were on the speedo – she grinned at him, mirth sparkling, and his heart somersaulted. “You don’t play GTA because you’re such a feminist?”

James made a rude hand gesture, swerving a little as he looked back at her. He scrambled to correct it.

“I am a feminist,” he said, a little offended. “Mum banned it besides. She goes mental whenever Sirius sticks the girly pictures up. Bad for body image. And what would Lizzy think, if I spent all my time murdering hookers and dealing drugs? In real life, sure, it’s street cred and money, but online that’s just depressing.” That wasn’t an exact summary of why he avoided it, but he wasn’t about to imitate a video essay. He watched too many of those. Really, though, Lara Croft has gone through the wringer! He’d nodded along with the Youtuber’s words while Sirius killed cultists on their Xbox.

Evans’s eyes narrowed. “Next right, and it’s two from the end on the left,” she said off-handedly, gaze still roaming across the planes of his face. He slowed, waiting for a car to pass before he made the turn. “I don’t know if I believe you.”

“Believe me?” James took the gap and lurched down the cul-de-sac. “I mean it, Evans. Street cred is everything. If I was a loser, I wouldn’t be a Marauder, would I?”

She rolled her eyes. “You are a loser. Nobody who’s actually cool gives themselves such stupid nicknames. It’s not like you’re a band.”

“We’ve considered it.”

“I remember Remus on the clarinet at the ANZAC assembly; please stop considering it.”

The brakes screeched; James stopped halfway down the lane, head whipping around. Evans clapped her hands over her mouth, cheeks flaming.

“Oh my god,” she said, irises as wide as starbursts. “Shit. Oh my god. That was a horrible thing to say.”

Electricity crackled from the top of his head to the tips of his fingers; had Lily Evans really just said that? Laughter burst from his lips, chest aching, stomach spasming as he gasped for air. Perfect prefect Evans thought Remus was shit at clarinet. Of everything today, that was the strangest.

“No,” Evans said, “shut up, don’t laugh – I didn’t mean that –”

“You did, though,” James gasped, eyes swimming with tears. Her red hair swirled into the air like tendrils of smoke, in the blur of his vision.

“It was a mistake,” she insisted. “I meant…”

“That Remus’s performances make you envy the deaf?”

Evans whacked him lightly on the arm. James lost his breath. The warmth of her touch burned like embers in a hearth, long after her fleeting fingers knotted together, far from his skin.

“He’s your mate,” she accused. “Shouldn’t you be defending his honour?”

James’s tongue poked at the fleshy inside of his cheek. “He works hard, he’s a laugh, he keeps us on track… sort of. I’ll defend that. But honesty is my policy, Evans. Sirius and I have fantasised about throwing that bloody thing in the creek.”

“So we have the same fantasies,” Evans grumbled. “Fantastic.”

His nails left crescent moons on the leather of the wheel. Probably not, he thought. Definitely not.

“The truth comes out in your mistakes, Evans. When your guard’s down.” He lifted his foot, rolling the little way down the rest of the street. She inhaled - the change of tone in his voice had been clearer than he'd intended.

“When people are angry, they say things they don’t mean.” He pulled up outside the second house from the end. This one was timber rather than brick, older than the others, raised on a brick platform. Low shrubs and strangled flowers lined the concrete path from the curb, and further down, gravel tracks rolled down the side of the house and out the back. Rickety stairs led up to the front door, the security screen rusted and faded. Yellow curtains hung in the windows. An old wooden chair waited on the porch, beneath two hand-painted signs – one welcoming all, and a second warning off ‘Jehovers’. Bits of hose littered the front garden. The red-lidded bin bulged with black rubbish bags. Evans shifted, turning her body as if to block the view of the house out the passenger window. The colour leeched from her face; her eyes were luminous. She tugged at the collar of her school jumper.

“I don’t know if I agree with you,” James said frankly, shifting the car into ‘park’ and pulling the handbrake. Evans’s hand rested on the handle of the door.

“I fight with my sister all the time,” Evans said. “I don’t really hate her.”

“Not now,” James said, “but in that moment… I don’t know. Maybe. It’s a feeling, not a resolution. I don’t think you say anything you haven’t felt before. Anger doesn’t make you a different person, you know? It just sort of… sharpens bits.”

The door opened, and Evans scooped up her backpack, halfway out the car.

“Thanks,” she said sharply. “For the ride.”

“Evans –”

“Thank you.”

James unclicked his belt, climbing over the gearbox. He caught the door as it swung shut, opening it again.

“Evans!” She stilled with her back to him, standing on the browning grass, bag hanging by one strap. James took a deep breath. “Evans, you have to know that – that word doesn’t just slip out.”

She whirled around, face hard, eyes wet. “It’s not really up to you to decide what I have to know, actually, Potter.” But she was listening to him. He ran his fingers through his hair, the gearstick digging into his stomach as he leaned across. He looked like an idiot, probably. He didn’t care.

“You deserve better,” he said. Evans flinched. Her lips curled cruelly.

“What, someone like you? I heard what you said to him. You’re not any better –”

“I didn’t call him that –”

“He’s been my friend since I was seven, Potter.” Her face crumpled; she turned her face to the sky, eyes shut. “You don’t get it. You could never get it. He’s the one that knows.” An angry arm flicked at the street. “I bet your bedroom’s air-conditioned.”

James frowned. “Yeah,” he said, flummoxed – what did that have to do with anything? “I mean – not me. I didn’t mean me. We would never… but not Snape. You deserve better than him. You have more than two options, you know.”

Slowly, she looked down at him. Trails shone on he cheeks. James pushed himself up on his hands, awkwardly manoeuvring back to his seat. Her mouth moved wordlessly; she rubbed her face, wiping the tears.

“Please don’t tell Remus what I said,” she said quietly.

“I won’t,” James said. “I promise.”

Evans smiled tightly, and then the door swung shut. James took a shuddering breath, watching as she crossed the grass and slumped up the stairs, shoving a key into the door and letting herself in. His mind churned. What didn’t he get? What didn’t he understand? The answer was beyond his reach, tantalising. He pressed his forehead to the wheel, sighing.

Lily Evans always left him with questions. He didn’t mind that. He just wished he knew how to find the answers.

#jily #jilymicrofics #jilymicroops #lily evans #james potter #hp #fanfic

22 notes · View notes

darklinsblog · 2 years

Text

Sweet Distraction | Chapter I

Summary: Morpheus finds himself at the lowest point in his life, with his son’s passing and Calliope’s departure, the man finds himself looking for a sweet distraction.

Pairing: Dark Morpheus x Human! Reader

Warnings: Smut

Chapter List

The year was 1589, Morpheus had just left Hob Gadling, and he was happy for the man who still had very much excitement to live. But his own personal life, was deteriorating. His son had died and months later his wife Calliope left him, blaming him for the death of their child.

Being honest with himself, he blamed himself as well. The king had hoped for Hob to be a good distraction, and he was for as long as he reunited with him but when he left the pub, the void in his chest would come back.

He started walking with no direction, he simply wanted to keep his mind busy from thinking of his own sorrow and misery, he walked pass a few drunks, and he watched as a man was dragged into a building by a voluminous woman.

A sense of curiosity filled him, he followed the pair, when looking around the room he was greeted by the sight of crowds of people fornicating shamelessly.

Weirdly enough, he stood there watching, until someone poked his shoulder. The tall man turned around finding a stocky and muddy man staring up at him sinisterly.

“Would you like one for yourself? I have just the right girl for you” Morpheus’ eyes shimmered with indescribable emotion, he wanted to decline the promiscuous offer, he should’ve just left, but he stayed.

At the lack of response the man grinned widely. “OI, Y/N GET YOUR ASS HERE” the man roared, the crowd seemed to disperse, allowing a girl to come forward, she had her arms crossed behind her back, looking straight at the floor as she walked, stopping right in front of Morpheus, next to the beefy man.

She was unusually clean for the brothel, she was tiny in comparison to the Endless, he completely shadowed her, he placed his fingers in her chin, forcing her to look up at him, her big bright eyes shined with fear but she was gorgeous even then.

“She is a virgin, my lord” the man peeped, Morpheus looked at the filthy man, then back at you.

Perhaps you were the sweet distraction he needed, the remedy to dull his suffering. It was the most immoral decision he could ever make, but he was at such a low point in his life, he didn’t care. You were immaculate, untouched and he could mold you to his liking, like a new toy, fresh out of the box for him to play with.

“How much?” He asked quietly.

“Two gold coins, my lord”

He paid the price without a second thought, there was no turning back now. You were his property.

Your new master took your hand and dragged you out of your old home. The Lord of Dreams brought you back to the Dreaming, Lucienne was waiting for the king at the veil, as always. But she was taken back by the unknown girl, who was avoiding all kinds of eye contact, she was barely visible as she stood behind the king.

“Lucienne, I do not want to be bothered today, do not summon me unless it’s an emergency. Is that clear?” The librarian frowned confused, but nodded.

“Of course, my lord”

With that he guided you into the palace into his bedroom, while you simply followed him like a lost pup, in many ways, that’s what you were.

He closed the door behind you and his pupils dilated with lust as he looked at you again.

“Sit on the bed” he commanded and you complied, he grabbed your neck softly, having you look at him with those big eyes of yours. “Let’s make things clear. You are my possession, you will be at my disposal, you will not ask me questions or talk unless I allow it” your heart was beating loudly in your chest, scared of the man that was now your owner, scared of what your life here would be like.

“Say you’ve understood” he growled, pressing down on your neck a little tighter, making you gasp.

“Y-yes” you stammered softly, at your response he let you go, but his eyes never left yours.

“Undress yourself for me” you had no other option but to comply, but this time, you were confident enough to stare back at him as you did. You slowly removed your garments, one by one until you were naked in his bed. He inspected your figure, taking in the sight of you, while your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

You looked so fragile, confused but something about all of this was incredibly alluring to him, he let himself be guided by desire as he kissed you hungrily. You reciprocated his actions shyly, as if you felt overpowered by him, Morpheus felt a rush of excitement when he understood he was standing from a place of power, he was the one making the shots here, not you.

He pressed you down to the bed, his weight falling on you, he was shamelessly touching your body, ripping out of you your first ever sounds of pleasure, he could tell by the way you shivered in a mixture of shame and pleasure, discovering the new sensation.

Adrenaline was cursing through his veins, he loved to be the first one to provoke this feeling on you, to make you his. To truly possess you.

You helped him get undressed, goosebumps rose on your skin at the feeling of his skin against yours, his cock rose your lady parts, making your walls clench in anticipation. He sneaked his hand down, between your bodies, introducing two of his slim fingers inside your clit, your walls adjusted to the intrusion tightly, causing him to groan in your ear.

Your legs tensed as Morpheus pumped his fingers inside you, you pulled his hair as you moaned louder and louder by the second. He fastened his pace, your sounds of pleasure made his member go hard grazing your belly.

The temperature started to rise in your whole body, a knot was forming in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Your legs trembled uncontrollably and as you came undone Morpheus held you.

Your clit was pulsing even after your orgasm, Morpheus spread your legs apart, eager to be inside you, he could not wait a minute longer. He positioned himself at your entrance, your walls clenching due to the overstimulation.

The Lord of Dreams sank into you so deeply you could feel him in your stomach, you well full of him, so full that you had the sensation that before this you were hollow, like he was the part of yourself you were missing.

His hands were placed at your butt, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing impossibly deeper inside you, he was thrusting into you with such force, the room was only filled with the sloppy sounds of his flesh crashing into yours. His monstrous pace driving you insane.

Your bodies were sweating and your toes were curling, he was keeping you in place so roughly you were certain his hands would be marked on your body for days.

Sooner than he expected you were coming undone again, but Morpheus kept going chasing after his own release, you could only use his shoulders as support, and at last his seed filled you, you gasped at the strange sensation of his fluids.

The Endless sighed in delight, relaxing and laying down on his bed next to you, he was breathing deeply while you looked at the ceiling, processing what just happened.

Morpheus was breathing deeply beside you and you could feel his hot fluids running down your leg, your whole body was aching. This was beyond strange to you, you looked at him for a second or two.

Had you really lost your virginity to this man? Or was this some sort of bizarre invention of yours? Then the reality of it all suddenly hitting you like a brick. You were this man’s fuck toy for as long as he wished.

After having recovered, the tall man got dressed, you sat up straight, covering your body as you watch him walk around the room. At the feeling of your eyes following him he looked at you.

“Clean yourself if you please, I will come back later” he said.

“What’s your name?” You asked before he left, he froze, if you were staying with him, that was practically the only thing you needed to know.

“Morpheus” he spoke softly “You better use it when I return” that was thing he said before leaving you.

You stood up, inspecting the bed that had a mixture of your fluids and a few droplets of blood as a result of your hymen breaking. At last, you decided to follow Morpheus’ suggestion and hoped in the shower, so you could change your clothes and wait for your master to come back.

After all, this was your new life.

403 notes · View notes