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catboyieejeno · 7 months

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.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・★

cw: little plot, roommates/fwb to lovers (ig?), strength kink, oral (fem receiving), slightly toxic (?), jealousy, very possessive jeno, overstimulation

18+ minors do not interact !

"stop fucking moving,"

you gasp out when jeno lands a slap on your clit, unable to help but jolt at the wave of pain and pleasure that shoots through your nerves. your eyes are dazed, but you can still make out his figure between your legs. he readjusts, using his big palms to keep your thighs far apart.

"i-i'm sorry, i'm sorry," you whimper weakly. he doesn't pay any mind to your apology, though, attaching his mouth to your dripping cunt once again.

by now, you knew jeno well enough to know exactly what pushed his buttons. it's exhilarating to test his limits, because more often than not, you'd end up with a few mind-blowing orgasms as your so-called 'punishment' at the end of the night.

so earlier, when your mutual friend jaemin came over, you thought it would be ingenious to settle down on the couch beside him and swing your legs over his lap.

that was your first mistake.

"sit there and take it," jeno growls, "and stay fucking still unless you want me to edge you all night,"

you knew your little plan would bother jeno, and it very much did. it was painfully obvious on his features, from the moment you hiked up your smooth legs and laid them over jaemin's thighs.

jeno's glare was unyielding, and he had his jaw clenched so tight, you worried his teeth might crack.

purely oblivious to your antics and jeno’s sudden sour mood, jaemin didn't think twice about resting his hands on your bare skin—it was an innocent gesture, really. the problem was, when he told a joke that made you laugh, you laughed a little too hard, taking his hand into your own and sliding it up your thigh.

it was bad enough that your cotton shorts were absolutely tiny, but it was worse that they were now tucked high between your legs. by the time you settled jaemin's hand where you wanted it to be, he was no less than a few inches from your core.

that was mistake number two.

"jeno. holy shit, please,"

"you wanna tease me, huh? wanna get me jealous? you like that shit," it doesn't matter that he's mumbling into your folds and his speech is slightly slurred, you catch onto his every word.

he laps you up again and again, alternating between laying his tongue flat on your clit and wrapping his lips around it to suck on it. his hands have slid up your waist, but his elbows keep your legs pinned open.

you're, quite literally, on fire. the wet, slurping sounds of him making out with your pussy are so loud that they're deafening. every groan and growl he grants shoots vibrations through you, and there doesn't seem to be enough oxygen in the room with the way you're rigidly panting.

if he didn't let you come soon, you're pretty sure you'd pass out.

"do you want anything to drink, jae?"

jeno scoffs. since when the fuck did you call jaemin 'jae?'

"some water would be nice, thanks," the boy flashed his smile at you and you stood up, ass practically hanging out of your shorts and right in his face. you couldn't see with your back turned, but jeno caught the way his friend's eyes darted to your pretty, plump cheeks, adam's apple bobbing as he gulped.

you returned with his glass, but just before you handed it to him, you pretended to stumble, and some of the water landed right over his crotch.

was it extremely cliche? sure, but it certainly did the trick.

when you came back with a kitchen towel chanting fake apologies and just about straddled one of his legs, jeno had pretty much had enough.

but then, as if that wasn't nearly enough, you went on to wipe away at jaemin's jeans (right over his slightly swelling bulge) wearing the most infuriatingly innocent look on your face.

"i'm so sorry!"

"it's okay, really," jaemin insisted, subconsciously spreading his knees farther apart so you could continue to dry him off.

"it's really not! jeno," you called, turning and batting your eyes, "can't you lend him one of your pairs?"

the moment your gaze landed on him, you knew you were fucked.

he narrowed his eyes on you, shooting daggers your way. after letting some air out through his nose, he seethed through his tightened teeth a small "sure."

and that? that was mistake number three.

"jeno, baby, i'm so close,"

"no," he warns, "don't you dare fucking come."

"i can't help it, i'm gonna-"

he stops at once, pulling the rug clean from under you and smirking at the way you whine out, body seizing up as your orgasm is stripped away. he watches as your hole pulses incessantly with need, grinding himself into the mattress.

you cry out, "i said i was sorry," but he only tuts, shaking his head.

"you made your bed, now lie in it."

"please," you're breathless and desperate for some sort of release. so much so, that you resort to shamelessly bargaining, "i'll give you head everyday for the next week,"

"not good enough. I can fuck your mouth whenever I want,"

"jeno! i'll- fuck, i don't know," you look around as you rack through your brain, but he doesn't let you finish your thought.

"say you're mine."

"but,” you pause, eyes widening, “i-i'm not,"

jeno sticks his middle finger knuckle deep into you, stilling it there within your tight, fluttering walls, "so then, tell me. you want jaemin's mouth on you instead of mine?"

"no," you answer quickly, honestly.

he pumps into you once, then twice, slowly coaxing the confession out of you, "then say it, baby. say you're mine, that i'm the only one who makes you feel this good,"

"i'm not yours, jeno. we-we've been over this,"

"i guess you don't wanna come then, do you?" he withdraws his digit and sits up on his knees, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, "i don't know why you have to be so fucking stubborn all the time,"

you watch as he pulls his length out of his boxers, mouth working to gather saliva to the front of his mouth. he spits, letting it fall onto his swollen, pink tip. it's hard to hide the way you're basically squirming in anticipation, hips practically bucking up and closer to him.

"i'm sorry," you try again, voice sweet and airy. but again, he doesn't answer. he simply lines himself up with your hole and pushes in with a hiss, training his eyes on you to watch the way your jaw goes slack.

"you're a brat," he scolds, "and a tease," his hands press down on your tummy, resting his weight there. when he bottoms out, you grip his wrists, looking down to watch the way he sits on his heels with his dick buried in you.

"i'm sorr-“

"stop fucking saying that," he thrusts into you and you moan out, "you know what i wanna hear," his gradually increasing pace makes you shudder, and your orgasm starts building within you once again, "i'm gonna fuck you so good, you'll never even think about jaemin again,"

jeno rams his hips into you and the sound of your skin slapping against his echoes around your bedroom. you try to cover up how close you're getting, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he won't notice until it's too late.

the only problem is: jeno knows you just as well as you know him, and even more so, he knows your body. he prides himself in that—in catching every little involuntary sign and habit you have.

he knows the way your toes curl when he hits the right spot, deep within your gummy walls, and he knows the way your eyes gloss over to spill hot tears when he chokes you.

your face might be able to conceal your true intentions, but your pussy, gushing and squeezing around him, can not.

“if i feel you come around me, so help me god, i’m gonna stop,”

there isn’t the slightest hint of a bluff behind his sharp tone, and it pisses you off. your cheeks are red hot with frustration, nails digging into his skin, which only makes him squeeze your waist harder. the pleasure is dizzying, his thick length dragging up and down your walls in the most delectable way.

you aren’t gonna last much longer, you know that. he knows that.

“please, jeno. please please please,”

“i’ll let you come, baby. there’s nothing i want more than for you to come on my cock, but i need you to tell me,”

sneakily, you trail your hand between your legs to stimulate your clit, but he’s quick to grasp both of your wrists before you can even savor the feeling, pinning your arms on your chest between your bouncing breasts.

you’re a mere second away from whining out in protest when his own free hand flies to rub circles on your puffy clit, and suddenly, the feeling is far too overwhelming.

forced to blink harshly a few times to regain focus, you look at his features and come to the conclusion that truthfully, jaemin, and no one else for that matter, could ever make you feel like this.

you didn’t want anyone else anyway. your little act was just a ploy to get you to this very point, stuck underneath jeno who manages to make you come so hard each and every time he’s inside you that you wind up seeing stars.

as the cord threatens to snap in your belly, every ounce of you longing for release, you moan out loudly, giving in, “i’m yours! i don’t want anyone else, i promise,”

“yeah?”

“yes,” you insist, “yes, baby. fuck, m’all yours, always yours,”

he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and suddenly, all the anger he had been airing out fades for a moment. he doesn’t shove his tongue down your throat (although you wouldn’t have minded much), and he doesn’t move his lips in any kind of rush; instead, they move against yours softly, almost feather-like, as if your confession would float away from any suddenness.

and finally, against your lips, he mumbles, “go ahead and come, sweet girl. i’ve got you.”

instantly, your nerves ignite and your breath hitches, your orgasm washing over you at last.

he isn’t far behind, not at all. he had been sensitive ever since he’d started humping the bed with his head stuck between your legs.

he finishes with you, in you, shooting streams of hot white cum inside your clenched walls. the grip he holds on your hand releases as a grunt rumbles in his throat, and you instinctively wrap your arms around him, letting him bury his face into your neck.

when he stills his movements, he lays his weight on top of you, warm, slick skin pressing right up against you, chest to chest.

after a few moments of silence, other than the settling heavy breaths from both of you, you rake your fingers through his hair, muttering timidly by his ear.

“i mean it. i’m yours. i only did all that earlier for—well, for this.”

“all mine?”

you nod, giving him reassurance when he lifts his head to read the expression on your face, “mhm.”

“good. i’m all yours, too.”

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ddejavvu · 8 months

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What about spencer with a reader who is normally so independent and does everything for herself but she’s so soft for spencer and lets him dote on her and take care of her and the team is like :o bc they can’t believe she is letting someone do things for her

"I'm not a tyrant," Spencer's voice is inexhaustibly patient, and his fingers are slightly awkward as he holds them around his phone, angling it awkwardly so that you can see his upper half on face-time while he sits at his desk, "I just want you to take your medicine so that you can get better."

"I am better," You insist, your voice a far cry from its usual drawl. It's more ragged and weak, and you definitely have a stuffy nose, which indicates how untruthful your words are. Everyone knows it, most of the bullpen can hear your insistent griping, and they're beginning to feel bad for Spencer. They can't imagine how he'd gotten you to stay home today, but they're shooting each other knowing grins each time you push back against his gentle insistence.

"No, angel, you're not." Spencer croons, "You're on the mend, but you're not recovered yet. And you'll get worse if you don't take your meds. I put them on the nightstand for you, and some water. All you have to do is take them, and go back to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep!" You insist, and it's a whine- a whine! Emily's mouth splits in an incredulous grin, and a laugh threatens to tremble Derek's broad shoulders at how juvenile your attempts at protest have become. They're used to your biting words, your forceful demeanor, your inability to surrender any control, but Spencer's got you tucked into the covers begging for a kiss on the forehead.

"I've been sleeping all day, and I slept all day yesterday, and the day before that. I'm tired of sleeping. Just let me fill out some paperwork! Anything, Spence, please."

He chews on the inside of his cheek, ignoring the way that JJ giggles suspiciously with Penelope, who's leaning against the side of her desk, drawn out of her office for the spectacle.

"You can read," He relents, "And you can watch tv but only if you do it on your computer with the night light setting turned on," He narrows his eyes, taking on your rather rough persona to ensure that his orders are obeyed, "Promise?"

"Promise," You rasp, and the team can hear the smile in your voice, "Thanks, Spencer."

"Use the night light setting," He warns instead of accepting your thanks, "I'll check later to see if it's turned on!"

"Okay!" You laugh, and Spencer winces lightly as the sound morphs into a thick cough, "Okay, I'll- ah, I'll see you later, baby."

"See you later," He concedes with a fond smile, waving in addition to his verbal goodbyes, "Love you."

"Love you too," You promise, then end the call. Spencer feels the weight of everyone else's stares on him as he sets his seldom-used phone down and resumes working, refusing to acknowledge them unless they prod at him first.

"Good job, Spence," JJ congratulates, "I didn't think she'd ever take a sick day."

"I know," Emily gushes with bright eyes and a wild smile, "If I tried to tuck her in she'd probably bite me."

"Well, that's 'cause you don't have Pretty Boy's charm," Derek cracks, though the smile that he flashes Prentiss is reassurance that he's teasing Spencer more than he's teasing her, "Congrats on wearing the pants today, Reid. Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause as soon as she's out of bed, she's taking the wheel again."

Spencer takes great pleasure in levelling Derek with a meaningful, "Shut up," because he's more than happy to be your passenger princess any day.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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sunsetsimon · 8 months

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farmer simon riley ♡

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

this is very self indulgent sorry not sorry! pt 2. boyfriend simon nsfw will be out tomorrow!

─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────

☼ he wakes up at the crack of dawn every morning, kissing your forehead before he starts his routine. rinsing his face, shaving if he needs to, brushing his teeth, the usual. simon doesn’t listen to much music when he’s alone, but the silence grounds him, a reminder that this is his life now. he does a lot of reflecting, sitting on the porch and drifting off in his mind.

☼ as the sun comes up he gets to work, feeding the animals one by one. he talks to them and names them. he acts annoyed when the ducks follow him, quacking at him for him to hurry up and give them their feed. “god dammit, fucking ducks back up!” he grunts, kicking his leg out to keep them back as he fills the bucket.

he makes his round to each animal, giving them a pat and checking that they have everything they need before leaving. by the time he makes his way back to the house, he can tell you're up. the curtains are drawn and the front door is propped open, letting in the fresh morning air. he knows he'll find you in the back garden with a wicker basket on your arm, trying to decide what to make for breakfast.

"how about omelettes this morning, love? somethin' simple, wanna spend some time with you," he says, pulling your back against him, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt and caressing your skin.

☼ always drives you into town when you want to go. he’s like your personal body guard, so unless you tell him otherwise, he expects to be next to you the entire time. spoils you so much too, letting you buy whatever you want without a fuss, he has the money for it.

☼ he buys whole cow from one of his cattle friends and learns to cook different recipes with the meat. simon definitely becomes one of those ‘griller guys’ who finds any excuse to grill or smoke meat. he has a lot of fun with it, trying out new recipes and techniques to see which produces the best results. he loves cooking together with you, thinks you look so cute in your “kiss the chef” apron he got you.

☼ having the boys or your friends over for meals. ghost is anything but a socialite, but he does have the boys over a few times a year for a small cookout. you get so excited every time, ready to hear all the stories soap and gaz talk about, even though they definitely shouldn’t be sharing the information. they try to keep it lighthearted, making positive memories with each other outside of work is rare. he never says it, but simon has a good time whenever they come.

☼ indulges in a lot of hobbies. shooting, wood working, gardening and more. he has to do something to occupy his time now. there’s a small building on your property that he renovated into his work room. tools cover the walls, and his projects sit on the tables until he finishes them. he spends the nights he can’t sleep in there, distracting himself with work so that he doesn’t think about the things that haunt him. you wake up to an empty bed in the middle of the night and look out the window, seeing the lights on in the distant building. sighing, you roll out of bed and put on your fuzzy robe that he got you for winter.

you open the large door, revealing simon sitting at one of his tables, his gun taken apart and splayed across it. “si, it’s 2 in the morning, come to bed,” you say, walking over and softly petting the hair on the back of his neck.

“i will soon, just gotta finish this.” you frown at him, giving him a knowing look that he doesn’t actually plan on being done soon. unmoving from your spot, he sighs and wipes off his hands, throwing the towel down. “okay, ‘m coming.” his hand reaches under the table, grabbing a 2nd gun and tucking it into the holster in his pants.

you roll your eyes, “my god.. do you just have those everywhere?”

“yes.”

☼ homegrown flower bouquets during the spring and summer, simon makes it a point to make you a fresh one every week. he cuts the stems and puts it in a vase for you, leaving it on the kitchen counter for you to see when you come down. he does everything he can to make you feel special because you’re the light of his life. sometimes he builds you things too! making mental notes whenever you talk about wanting something, he spends night after night in his workroom to make it perfect for you.

☼ loves sitting on your porch and watching the sun set with you. after dinner, he’ll pull you out onto the porch, sitting next to you with a glass of whiskey. simon doesn’t say anything, just staring off and enjoying your presence. you can feel his eyes on you occasionally, watching as the sun casts it’s oranges, pinks, and reds across your face. you look so beautiful and peaceful here.

☼ never expected this to be his life but he’s happy with the way it is. he can never get too bored though, always needing to do something. the winters can be tough on him mentally as there’s less to do in the cold, so he picks up reading and is constantly finishing projects around the house. he just wants you to be safe and by his side, forever.

#ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod x reader #.wbm

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keigokoutarou · 1 year

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“Do you like my hips?”

Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Pt. 1.5 | Pt. 2

Warnings: suggestive content

Purely self indulgent based off of a dream I had involving my crush cosplaying as ghost. Enjoy.

You sighed, eyes still in your book as your phone buzzed with a phone call. Rolling them in an annoyed manner, you shifted your eyes toward the phone resting by your ankle on the large chaise in your sunroom. Your face looked surprised at the caller.

“Lieutenant Pouty”

You swiped to answer FaceTime, trying not to seem excited about a random call.

“Lieutenant?” You questioned. “You never FaceTime me. What's wrong?

“Nothings wrong.” His voice was gruff.

You listened to the phone be moved around before sitting down against something. You watched the military grade cargo pants come into view at the hips. He was standing angled, hips facing slightly to the side and swaying as he moved to mess with things you couldn’t see off camera. You tried so hard not to stare but his waist looked impossibly good. He had on a tight black shirt that tucked into them so well and his physic was so evident. You’d always admired his body, loving his broad shoulders and how he tapered in at the waist. He was going to be the death of you and he didn’t even have a clue.

“What are you doing then?” You asked, trying to shake off the nerves.

“Wanted to show you something.” He answered swiftly, hands coming around to clip his utility belt around his waist. You inwardly groaned to yourself at how much smaller his waist looked.

“Your hips sir?” You joked, only you didn’t feel amused, you felt hot and drowning in it.

“Don’t have my mask on yet.” He continued with his short answers.

“I’ll call you back then.” You were trying, at least. Trying to get yourself out of a potential situation with your Lieutenant before you could embarrass yourself.

“Absolutely not, Sergeant.” He paused what he was doing.

You remained silent, wondering if he could even see your face that well from the angle he had the phone at.

As the unbearable silence continued, he began putting strapping things around his thighs and hooking them up to the utility belt.

“Sir, I respect you but I’m not sure if it’s appropriate for me to be facetiming with parts of you.” You sighed, being more forward with your uncomfortableness.

“This is payback.” You heard his voice drop an octave with a hint of play backing his tone.

“Payback?” You questioned. “Sir, I'm not quite sure what you mean.” You quizzed

He didn't answer that and continued on in his doings. He reached for the skull mask, almost dangling it in front of the camera before lifting it. You could hear the sound of it slipping on over his hair.

“Perhaps I should call Sergeant McTavish to gain a better idea of what I’ve done to upset you.” You grumbled.

He still didn’t answer. You watched him pull his sleeves up, showing his tattoos before exhaling.

“Are you alone, Sergeant?” He questioned with his voice sounding a bit more muffled because of his mask.

“I’m home, yes sir.” You answered confused. “But I don’t see how that’s any of your concern unless you need to tell me something classified.”

“I need to ask you something.” He continued, voice dry as winter air.

“Alright.” You nodded, finally feeling like you could breathe again.

“I overheard you speaking with Soap.” He started adjusting his gloves to his liking and not bothering to adjust the phone. “You told him how much you loved my hips.”

You're sure if your soul hadn’t left your body in all of those near death experiences, it sure was now. Your face flushed immediately and your heart raced in its cage.

“Is that true, Sergeant?” He continued, seemingly unbothered by what he said to you.

“Sir I-“ you started, pausing before taking a deep breath. “You must have misheard me.”

“Hmm.” He quizzed inwardly. “Are you lying?”

“No sir.” You tried to even your voice.

“You know that lying to your superior could mean discharge.” He continued.

It was moments like this where you cursed the life lessons he faced that made him so unbelievably stoic at the worst of times.

You had absolutely no words for the man on the other line as he tilted the phone to face him. He didn’t pick it up though and that made you subconsciously squeeze your thighs together. You were meeting his eyes from the waist up and the angle almost made you pass out.

“I’ll ask again.” His usually cold eyes almost seemed to squint in amusement. Was he enjoying this? “Do you like my hips, sergeant?”

Even from this angle, his eyes bore into yours and you knew there was no chance in lying to him.

“Yes sir.” You mumbled, speaking your truth and sending all of your dignity with it.

“Atta girl.” He sounded so satisfied. “This is your payback for wearing that shirt yesterday.”

Your eyebrows knitted together before reaching an aha moment. You wore a skin tight black spaghetti strap crop top yesterday because it was the hottest day of the year. You and the team were fiddling around with maintenance on all of the buggies so it was a no brainer to dress cool. However you remembered thinking how great your chest looked and maybe on purpose, you made sure Ghost thought the same.

“You aren’t dumb, sergeant.” He continued on, watching as you reached a conclusion in your mind. “I almost thought you didn’t catch me looking.”

And you almost didn’t. Had you not been so attentive to reading your Lieutenants eyes, you would have absolutely missed the way his eyes flickered slightly toward your cleavage when you subtly pulled your shirt down a bit by it’s hem.

“Anyhow.” He interrupted your train of thought. “I assume this won’t happen again.”

“No sir.” You we’re drowning in that heat now with no life jacket in sight.

“At least not without proper punishment.” You picked up on his excitement showing through his tone as he camera angled back at his hips and he stepped back revealing the much more obvious tenting of his pants.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Sergeant.” He bed before clicking the call to an end.

A wicked smirk complimenting your flushed face came into play and you sure as hell were going to fuck with your lieutenant some more.

#simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod ghost #ghost mw2 #mw2 imagine #simon riley #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley imagine #mw2 headcanons #mw2 hcs #cod hcs #cod imagine #cod headcanons #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley smut

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chrollosbm · 6 months

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Satoru Gojo is into Some Weird Roleplay (Christmas Smut)

art cr: glowx_21 on x

hey idk what this is LMAOO. i thought of this randomly bc gojo reminds me of a certain christmas character so i just ran with it! he's one of my three husbands who i love so much so i wanted to write about him. i'm so feral for him it's not even funny. anyways, i hope you enjoy and don't take it too seriously, unless you want to idc! mdni.

domestic gojo, husband gojo, dad gojo

female reader, no description of her features but i’m black so

warnings: piv sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, satoru won't shut up, dom gojo

i'm on ao3, pls support me there too!

wc: 1500+

“Satoru,” You surprised yourself in the way you were able to let out a single word with his unrelenting thrusts. “Baby. P-please slow down.”

The man who was currently plummeting into you from behind let out a click of his tongue, ignoring your request and instead opted with a loud and hard smack to your ass, his pace somehow getting faster and harder. His hips were ruthless against the fat of your ass, creating clapping noises throughout the large bedroom.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.” He let out breathlessly, his tone as playful as ever, waiting for you to address him the right way.

You wanted to reach back and knock some sense into him, tell him to slow his thrusts before he knocked the wind out of you and woke up the children. His deep and powerful thrusts prohibited you from saying much though, with his fat cock reaching your g-spot so effortlessly that you were seeing stars.

If you could roll your eyes right now you would, but your body seemed to forget how to function, only capable of following the orders of your ridiculous but gorgeous husband behind you. “Saint Nick…please.” It would’ve sounded ridiculous to you if you weren’t being plummeted to Neptune with each touch of your gummy spot deep within you, but you were being fucked so stupid that you would call him God if he asked. “You don’t wanna wake up the little elves do you?” You played along as you continued panting, fingers grasping the silk sheets tightly, tears in your eyes from the intense pleasure.

You thought he was ignoring you again, with his long fingers digging deeper into your hips before he slowed his pace, deciding on an unhurried, rough one, sliding in and out of those warm, wet walls of yours with a long and drawn out “fuuuuuck,” leaving his mouth. “The elves are fast asleep, baby. Don’t worry about them, just take Santa’s dick, mmkay’?” His voice was jolly as ever, just like Santa Claus himself, and you would’ve laughed if his cock wasn’t basically touching your brain at this point. You could only let out small whimpers as he arched your back further, reaching only a place he could.

Why you agreed on letting your dear husband roleplay as Santa was beyond you, but Satoru had a way with words. All he had to do was promise to make you feel good, make you cum all night long, pretty please baby, in that convincing, deep voice of his, a pout on his features, those bright blue eyes begging, so how could you say no?

You should have made some more conditions, one being to say no to the bells he had attached to the bed frame, with them ringing with each jerk of his hips, creating an impossibly loud jingle. He said it would get the two of you in the “Christmas spirit,” with the bed decorated in lights and ringing balls, sounding like a real sleigh everytime the bed hit the wall in full force.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Satoru pulling himself out of you, leaving you empty and missing him already, causing a whine to leave your lips as he flipped you over as if you weighed nothing, before settling in between your legs again. You were faced with the beautiful man you were so grateful to call yours, his cerulean orbs were darkened somehow as they stared into yours, looking dazed and drunk off your pussy, his pupils slightly dilated. His pretty white follicles were tucked into a red santa hat, the puffy ball tossed on the side, sweat trickling from his temples from wrecking your insides. He had that adorable, innocent smile on his face, as if he wasn’t guilty of talking you into this comical predicament in the first place.

“Will Mrs. Claus let me put the beard on again?” He let out, a pout forming on his pink lips, glossy from sweat and saliva.

“No, don’t ask again!” You almost yelled, your face scrunched in annoyance and he let out a booming laugh at your immediate response.

Satoru did have a cheap, plastic beard that matched his white hair perfectly, but you made him take it off for a couple reasons. One being it looked terrible. As beautiful as the man above you was as he was staring down at you, shallow breaths coming from his perfectly shaped, rock hard abdomen, and his rosy cheeks, the beard made him look…creepy. Two being it was damn itchy. He had been going down on you when he had it on, but it was impossible for you to focus on his holy tongue work and perfect movements of his fingers, curving into you, hitting that spot that had you crying out his name for the night (fucking Saint Nick.) Once it began scratching your legs painfully, you’d forced him to take it off, which he did with a whine, throwing the damp, shitty excuse for a beard across the bedroom floor, before making you cum from his tongue alone, more than once.

Your husband’s wide grin was replaced with something immodest as he gripped your thighs, pulling you forward, and slipped inside torturously slow, earning a gasp from the both of you. His head was thrown back and his lip was caught in his teeth, causing your pussy to throb from both the feeling of warmth and fullness again, and Satoru’s effortless way of making you feel hot inside just by simple facial expressions, subsequently making a groan escape his lips before sinking into you completely, touching your gummy spot immediately with the angle he entered.

He kept your legs apart as he thrust into you forcefully and fast-paced again, with you giving no complaints this time about the commotion the jingling bed frame was causing. You didn’t care, for he was taking you to heaven in this position, goosebumps erupting from your skin and seeing black dots in your vision with each time he reached a new depth inside you. Your cunt was competing with the loud noises of those stupid fucking bells as it made sloshing noises throughout the room, and when you looked down, you could see your juices dripping onto his pretty, pale, absolutely perfect cock.

As if he could read your mind, he spoke for you. “You’re so fucking wet, baby. My god.” His head was no longer tilted back, but also looking down as your tight, slippery cunt sucked in his dick, a feral look on his features, absolutely enamored by the sight. His pace never let up, his hips moving at the speed of light almost as he used one hand to press on your lower stomach, making it feel better than you thought possible. “You feel me in there? You feel Santa’s cock abusing this perfect little cunt?” His goofy grin returned and you couldn’t do anything but let out a loud moan of approval, face twisted up, still entertaining his mess because this just felt too fucking good.

His hand moved from your tummy to focus on your clit, fingers rubbing small, soft circles, completely catching you off guard. Your legs began to tremble from the insane pleasure you were feeling, hands clenching the sheets so hard again you were surprised they didn’t come off the corners of the bed.

“Can I make you a mommy again? Put another little helper in this belly?” That feral look was in his eyes again, tone as light as ever, as he slowed down, choosing a rough ram motion, causing your tits to jiggle at the change of pace, making Satoru groan at the sight, mouth halfway open. You didn’t know if it was the mind fog you felt from him fucking you brainless, but you nodded vigorously as tears fell down your cheeks, that white hot feeling in your veins approaching, mind so numb you would probably agree to having ten more of his white-haired, blue-eyed children. The two of your already had four, three you’d birthed and one you adopted, but you didn’t care right now, you felt like he had seriously taken you to the North Pole with the way his cock was basically fucking your guts.

His infamous smile returned before leaning down to place his lips on yours, barely kissing you, just sticking his minty tongue in your mouth and panting, speaking incoherent sentences along the lines of you being a “good girl,” and “taking his load so well.” You couldn’t comprehend a thing anyway, as your body began convulsing, washing over with relief as your orgasm was drawn out of you, long and bone shattering, with your back arching off the bed with a squeal that was hard to keep inside your body.

Satoru wasn’t too far behind you, with his eyes closed tightly, as his hips began twitching, the first time all night they didn’t have a consistent rhythm and he groaned out loudly, spurting long, hot ropes of his cum inside you.

His eyes opened soon after, those beautiful blue orbs staring at you adoringly with his signature wide grin on his face, in which you returned, panting heavily, so thankful for this beautiful, insane, goofy husband of yours. He grabbed the comforter and placed it over the two of you, kissing your lips softly, his breath heavy as the two of you exchanged small “i love you’s” back and forth.

“Mommy?” A small voice came from the corner of the room and your heart dropped, recognizing it as your three year old daughter’s, afraid of what she might’ve seen. Satoru hid under the covers, his hat coming off in the process and you had a full view of her now, with her candy cane nightgown and teddy bear in her arms, her lip quivering with tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, ready to get up and comfort your youngest, afraid something happened as it was past midnight on Christmas Eve. God, did the bells wake her up?

She stomped out the room before you could get up, wailing and yelling for her older brother. “Megumi! Mommy was kissing Santa!” Her cries could be heard throughout the entire house and you knew everyone would be awake by now.

Satoru’s loud laugh could also be heard throughout the entire house, its jollyness rivaling Saint Nick himself.

my masterlist!

#gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo x black reader #gojo x black y/n #jjk x black reader #jjk x female reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #satoru x reader

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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months

Note

And Carlos having to watch in Abu Dhabi as they get to publicly be together. Maybe that’s why he crashed out in FP2, she was on his mind…

This is now canon.

Can it be an epilogue?

Lady in Red {4} || CS55 & CL16

Summary: It's the final event of the season and plans are being made for winter, but first there's some mind games going on at Ferrari Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, bj, fingering, toxic behaviour WC: 2.4k One || Two || Three || Four

Charles felt your fingers slip away from his as you neared the entrance to the track. Confused, he reached for them again and looked at your reflection in the car window. Turning away from the lines of fans waiting for a glimpse of the drivers, you met his green eyes. “Sorry, force of habit,” you apologised sheepishly.

You had confessed everything to him when he tried to kiss you at the end of the night in Vegas. Ever the gentleman, he had walked you to your room but when he leaned closer, just like you wanted him to, the words had tumbled out. He knew everything; how you had been played by Carlos and, even worse, what you had done knowing he was in a relationship.

Lacing your fingers tighter, he raised them to his lips and kissed them. “You don’t have to hide with me.”

You smiled at the truth and leaned into his side as the car came to a stop. “I know.”

It felt strange stepping out into the spotlight with all of your clothes on. You were used to the wind kissing your skin through the thin lingerie you were being paid to promote with your body, pretending you weren’t freezing cold when night fell. It was comfortable to walk hand in hand with Charles, in a fairly plain dress that you had chosen. You weren’t here for business, it was purely pleasure.

“What are your plans for the break?” you asked as he settled into his driver's room.

He pulled his t-shirt off and traded it for the fireproof long sleeved shirt you had grabbed from the shelf. Your eyes lingered on the toned skin that disappeared beneath the shirt and he combed a hand through his hair that had messed up. “My plans or our plans?”

“I didn’t know we had plans,” you said coyly.

He kicked off his jeans and smirked as you hid the fireproof pants behind your back. His body pressed to yours as he dominated your space, reaching around your back and catching your hands in his much larger ones.

“Then we will have to change that, chérie. Unless you have something already planned?”

He pulled you closer and dipped his head to yours, kissing you until your body relaxed and your hands released his clothes.

“I suppose I can clear my schedule for you,” you sighed jokingly, smiling when his lips tugged up again.

“Don’t go out of your way,” he said sarcastically as he pulled his fireproofs up and jumped to get the tight leggings into place. “I would hate to be a nuisance.”

“Such a pest,” you noted, dropping onto his couch and tucking your legs up. You rested your chin on your knees and watched him sip from his bottle to keep hydrated. “What did you have in mind?”

“Do you like skiing?”

“Never tried. I’ll probably be terrible and complain about the cold,” you admitted with a laugh. “I hope you are a good teacher.”

“The best, chérie.” He winked your way as he pulled his racing suit on, shrugging the shoulders up so he could close the velcro collar. When he had his boots on and his balaclava in his hands, he bent down and kissed you goodbye. “I’ll see you after practice.”

“Drive safe.”

Charles had done well to avoid Carlos for most of the week. The two drivers had been on separate media panels and had barely spoken outside of team meetings or whatever silly games they were told to play by management. Those had been tense to say the least.

There was no avoiding him however when they finished FP1 and spoke to the media. They had both finished their interviews at the same time and were heading in the same direction to hospitality.

“Did your girlfriend tell you about me? About the things we did?” Carlos goaded his teammate as they walked along. They both smiled and waved to the fans and the cameras but Carlos’ one was straining under the force of his.

“She told me everything, but we all make mistakes,” Charles replied calmly, his smile never wavering as he signed autographs for the young fans. “That’s all you are to her, a mistake.”

“We’ll see about that: once a whore, always a whore.” Carlos threw his arm over Charles’ shoulders and pulled him closer, slapping his chest patronisingly. “You’re vanilla, Chuck. Vanilla is boring once you’ve had a bit of spice. Why do you think they call me Chilli?”

Carlos pushed away with a laugh and left the Monegasque with the words playing on his mind. Charles was still thinking about them when he met you in his driver's room. He closed the door a little too hard and you frowned at the change in him. He had been smiling in the media pit, proud of how the first practice went, but now he was sour as he started to strip his clothes off.

“Is everything okay?” you asked as you touched his back lightly, feeling his move out of your touch. “Oh, okay. I’ll leave you alone then.”

You grabbed your handbag and reached for the door but Charles stretched over you to plant his hand on the top, the press of his chest against your back. His lips brushed the shell of your ear and his other hand snaked over your hip, drifting down your abdomen. “Am I boring?”

Your head fell back to his shoulder as his fingers followed the shape of your body and slipped between your legs. “No,” you whispered as you remembered he had asked you a question. “Did Carlos say something?”

Charles' hand disappeared as he pushed away from you with a huff. “Were you seriously thinking about him?”

“I think you were,” you pointed out as you turned to face him and leaned against the door, crossing your arms. You stared at him for a moment and he looked away first, brushing a hand angrily through his hair - but the anger wasn’t aimed at you.

“Fuck, he got in my head.”You crossed the room and caught his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over the beard he sported. “Forget about him, Charles, I’m with you. You’re good for me, healthy.”

“Vanilla,” he muttered as he twisted his face away and sighed.

“I’m going for a walk,” you murmured as he sank into the couch. “Give you some space.”

“Wait,” he said as you opened the door. “Come back.”

“I will, soon. Promise.” You closed the door behind you before marching across the motorhome to the other driver room and pounding your fist on Carlos’ door. “Open up.”

It swung open quickly, like he had been waiting for your visit and smirked as you stepped inside. “Hermosa, you look disappointed. Does Charles leave you unsatisfied?”

“I am disappointed, Carlos,” you said as you crossed your arms but quickly unfolded then when his eyes fell to the swell of your breasts. “Do you really have nothing better to do with your time?”

“There’s one improvement I can think of, and it isn’t talking, cariña.”

Your hands turned to fists at your side as he undressed you with his eyes, his tongue rolling across his bottom lip. “Don’t talk to Charles, don’t talk to me, don’t even think about me, okay?”

Carlos shrugged nonchalantly. “Hard to do, he’s my teammate.”

“You’ll find a way, or Rebecca will find out the truth. Wouldn’t that be fun? Imagine that, Carlos, she would drop you in an instant and once again you would be all alone - because I won’t be answering your call,” you threatened coldly as you took a step closer. “I will be too busy on holiday with my boyfriend - the one I will fuck in every possible way so no one could ever call him vanilla again.”

“He’ll never be enough,” Carlos called out as you stepped towards the door. “That thrill, of knowing you might be caught, you’ll never get that with him.”

“There’s other thrills to be had,” you smirked over your shoulder. “Maybe I’ll take a page out of your book and mess with your girlfriend. I could send Rebecca that two piece you loved so much. You remember, the red one, delicate, lace. The one that had you on your knees begging to fuck me in. Yeah…I think I like this new game, it’s just so thrilling.”

“You're not wearing red today,” he muttered.

“No, I’m not being paid to support Ferrari, I’m here for Charles.”

You left him unable to articulate a response and closed the door behind you with a dark smile. Charles was where you left him, fidgeting with his rings, and his head snapped up when you walked in.

“You went to him?” It wasn’t an accusation, merely curiosity that filled his tone and he patted the space beside him.

“I did,” you confirmed, taking the seat he offered. His hand laced with yours and he settled them on his thigh as he leaned back into the couch with a heavy sigh. “I needed to clarify some things that he didn’t seem to understand.”

“I didn’t mean to push you away, or pin you to the door.”

“You didn’t,” you assured him as you rested your head on his shoulder. “Was kind of hot though.”

Charles laughed nervously. “Yeah, it was. Would it be alright if I did that?”

You peeked up under your lashes to see him looking intently at you. You didn’t realise he felt he needed permission but your heart skipped a beat over the fact he asked. You hadn’t really had that before and your body burned in response as you shifted on the seat to straddle his hips. “Yes, Charles.”

“Not too vanilla,” he teased, but the laughter never reached his eyes.

“I don’t know why you are so hung up on that,” you tutted. “Vanilla isn’t an insult. It’s classic and timeless, and perfect for all occasions.”

“I suppose so,” he mused, half convinced.

“You know what wouldn’t be vanilla?” He shook his head and watched you sink to the floor between his legs. Your hands found the waistband of his fireproofs and dragged them down as he lifted his hips. You wet your lips at the sight of his semi that was growing harder by the second. “Letting me do this, with the door unlocked.”

His eyes widened and his lips parted but before he could think better and ask you to stop your lips sealed around his cock and the only sound that escaped was a sated sigh. “Putain, tu te sens si bien.”

You hummed at the taste of him in your mouth and you pressed your tongue against his shaft as you took him deeper. Incoherent French filled the room and you delighted in the sounds as you ignored the need to breathe. There was nothing prettier than rolling your eyes up his body to see the complete awe on his face as he watched you pleasure him, your name on his lips. Not a nickname or an endearment, your name, because you weren’t a secret to hide.

“Je vais…je vais foutre,” he moaned loudly. His hands gripped your head and he snapped his hips up, choking you with his cock as he buried himself in your throat. A thick stream of cum filled your mouth as he sagged back into the couch, his cock twitching as you milked every last drop on your tongue and swallowed it.

You sat back on your heels pleased with yourself. He was thoroughly relaxed as he curled his fingers to draw you back up onto his lap.

“Thank you,” he said softly, his confidence completely restored. “I’m sorry I have to get ready to go, chérie, or I would happily return the favour.”

“I can wait,” you hummed as he started to tease you with his fingers anyway. He eased one into your cunt to find it already wet and ready for him, then he added a second and pressed his thumb to your clit. “Someone might walk in,” you whispered, but it turned to a moan at the circles he drew around your clit.

“Someone might,” he chuckled, clearly enjoying the idea as much as you were.

His fingers worked you to a frenzy and you rode your hips over them as you chased your release. He swallowed the cries of your release with a deep kiss, his tongue dominating yours and sharing the taste of his musk that coated your tongue. Lifting his fingers to his lips, he held your eyes as he licked them clean and your pussy clenched at the sight.

“That’s not vanilla,” you said as you bit your lip and climbed off. “Not vanilla at all, baby.”

He grinned at the compliment and tucked himself away before standing up too. “I’ll see you after practice.”

“Drive safe.”

Charles didn’t stop smiling that night. His practice may not have had the top time but it was still a positive indicator that he was going to have a good pace for the race and better yet Carlos had crashed out. They had passed each other in the media pit and Charles didn’t have the ability to hide his smirk as he watched his teammate saunter off with a scowl on his face.

“I don’t know what you said to him, chérie,” Charles laughed at dinner with his friends, Carlos’ table much more reserved on the other side of the restaurant. “But I haven’t seen him that quiet, ever.”

“I just reminded him of his values,” you said with a sweet smile, and you fluttered your eyelashes too. “And what will happen if he tries to fuck with us again.”

“God, winter break can’t come soon enough,” Charles said as he took your hand and kissed it before draping his arm over your shoulders. Carlos shifted in his seat, eyebrows furrowing at you before he did the same to his girlfriend. “I don’t know if I will even want to leave the chalet.”

“One ski lesson with me and that might be the wise decision.”

Charles shook his head. “You’re not getting out of it, I told you, chérie, I’m the best.”

You smirked as your hand came to rest high up his thigh under the table. “Yes, yes you are.”

#charles leclerc fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc smut #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

just finished a rewatch of ootp and i forgot how cute luna and harry’s friendship is!! had me start thinking about what a james potter x luna lovegood-esque reader relationship would look like and i RAN to your ask because i just have to see what your take on it would be! love love LOVE ur writing, no pressure to write this tho if the inspo doesn’t hit!! thank u lovely <333

I forget how sweet they are all the time too! Thanks for requesting honey <3

James Potter x whimsical!reader ♡ 986 words

James comes home to find all of his pants on the floor.

“Unless I’ve started sleepwalking,” he says, and you look up at the sound of his voice from where you’re crouched next to one pair of jeans, apparently digging through his pockets, “I’m fairly sure I put these away after I took them out of the dryer last night.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you reassure him in that quiet, breezy way of yours. “You did. If you were sleepwalking, I would tell you.”

James waits a second for you to elaborate, then realizes how foolish that is of him. “Then what are they all doing on the floor, my love?”

“It’s the first day of the waxing moon.” Coins clink in your palm as you remove it from his pocket, and then—to James surprise—simply submerge your hand in the opposite pocket, dropping the change in. “You keep a lot of money in your pants, did you know? It’s lucky the dryer didn’t shake it all out.”

Actually, he had found a few coins after taking out his laundry the night before, but apparently there’s still some left over in his deep pockets. “What does the moon have to do with anything? And are you robbing me? If so, you’re doing a horrible job, sweetheart.”

You sit back, setting your bum on your heels, and smile at him in that indulgent way you do when you think he’s being silly. It emits a soft glow, and James can’t help but squat in front of you, pecking you on the lips in belated greeting.

You kiss him back without complaint, lips soft and pliant and curved against his. “You switch your coins to the opposite pocket for good fortune during the waxing moon, Jamie. You can’t tell me you haven’t done it before.”

“I can tell you most certainly that I haven’t,” he promises, tucking a hand behind your ear to cradle your head. You lean into the touch absentmindedly even as your lips draw into a little frown.

“Then how did your family get to be so rich?” you muse softly.

It takes some effort for James to smother the laughter that rises in his chest, turning it into a pensive hum. “I suppose they might’ve always known and just kept it a secret from me. My mum did say she wanted me to make my own way in the world.”

“Oh.” You nod, certainty restored to your countenance. “That’s it, then. Not very considerate of them not to give you the tools for success, but I suppose every parent has their own ideas about those things.”

James only hums again, lips curving of their own volition. “Anything else we need to do tonight to accommodate the waxing moon, darling?”

You laugh, the sound light and lovely as the tinkling of wind chimes. “Jamie, the waxing moon lasts for fourteen days. We’ve got two weeks for everything we want to do.”

“Oh, how silly of me.” He grins at you, stealing another quick kiss. “Everything, you say? What might that be?”

“Well,” you say, returning to your task with the next pair of pants closest to you, “the waxing moon helps draw good things toward you. Like fortune” —you hold up a sparse palmful of coins for him to see before transferring them to the other pocket— “or a good harvest, or new love, or new job—didn’t you say you were thinking about asking for a promotion? This would be a good time.”

“Maybe,” James replies with due consideration, but truly his mind has gotten snagged on one idea and not let go. “Love, eh?” He grins at you, reaching to wrap his hands around your waist and sliding you across the floor to him. “Should I be prepared to feel extra besotted for the next couple of weeks?” You smile and lean your head onto his shoulder to look up at him, going lax in his embrace. You’re a rather placid thing by nature, but he knows you secretly love it when he manhandles you like this. You go all soft and cloudy-eyed, and even now, you certainly seem far from scolding him for interrupting your task. “I’m pretty far gone already,” he says, just to hammer it home, “so I’m not sure how much worse it can get.”

He’s rewarded with a light flush across the tops of your cheekbones. “It’s new love, Jamie,” you correct him. “The waxing moon doesn’t affect love that already exists.”

“Oh, I see.” He narrows his eyes down at you. “So this is your opportunity to ditch me for some new bloke, is that it?”

The adoration doesn’t leave your gaze, but you shrug. “I’m not manifesting that, so I suppose it’s up to the moon to decide.”

Some of the levity leaves him. “Wait, so if some other guy said he was drawn to you by the waxing moon, you’d consider it?”

You let your head weigh heavily on his shoulder, pursing your lips slightly in contemplation. “I suppose I’d at least hear him out. It’s powerful magic during this time, you know? I’d at least be curious what drew him. Or them, you never know.”

Now James is the one who’s frowning. “That’s not very reassuring, sweetheart.”

You seem to come back to yourself, eyes focussing on his again and a small smile returning to your lips. “Don’t worry, Jamie.” You lean up to kiss him before slipping free of his hold, going to find another pair of jeans to dig through. “I’d obviously wait until the clarity of the full moon to decide on anything.”

“Obviously,” James echoes, feeling somewhat dazed as he stands. “Um, angel? If you meet someone who tells you the moon sent them to you, would you at least let me know? I think if I tell Sirius about it, you may find they don’t stick around until the full moon anyway.”

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celtic-crossbow · 6 months

Text

Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Poorly written smut (oral - m receiving)

Summary: Daryl should have bad days more often.

A/N: I wonder if I should be concerned that I wrote this after an extremely traumatic experience.

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

The air in the room had gone humid, reeking of sex and sweat. Yet it was sweet and refreshing after spending day after day wading knee deep in death and blood. It was here that you could breathe easy and remember that there were good things left in the world.

Now breathing easy wasn’t literal at that moment considering the 8 inches of archer currently sliding in and out of your mouth. Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes as you kept your gaze on him. His head was thrown back to rest against the couch while his fingers were tangled in your hair.

“Fuck.”

Oh, how you loved it when he moaned. Daryl was always so quiet, broody even, when outside your home. Inside, though? He could get loud. And god, did you love it. The needy little sounds he was making at that very moment had your cunt clenching around nothing, but this wasn’t about you. Not this time.

You let your nails scrape down his denim-clad thighs. You hadn’t given him a chance to undress. You simply went after his belt buckle the moment he walked into the house and shoved him toward the couch. You didn’t need him naked to work your magic.

You hummed around his length, tightening your lips and pressing your tongue underneath as you dragged upward to make room for your hand to wrap around him. You felt the slight pull against your scalp of his grip tightening, yet he didn’t try to control your pace. He could if he wanted but unless you expressly told him to, he never did.

You pulled your mouth off, the slick sound of your hand pumping him replacing the gagging noises that preceded. “You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” Daryl was slow to raise his head, the blue of his eyes only a thin ring around lust blown pupils. He was panting through the slight partition of his lips, his tongue snaking out to wet them slowly. When he didn’t answer, your movements slowed to a crawl. “Words, baby.”

“Yes.” He huffed in a quick breath.

Not good enough. “Yes, what?” You stopped altogether and gave his shaft a squeeze. The archer hissed through his teeth, hips jerking.

“M’a good boy.” He keened. With a satisfied hum, you went right back to a fast pace, licking your own lips when his head fell back with a shout of your name.

“Yes, you are.” Your mouth was on him again, cheeks hollowed while your lips and hand chased one another to drag the most delicious sounds from the man currently at your mercy.

“Y/N—Y/N, m’gonna cum.”

You pulled off him with a pop, drinking in the sheen of sweat on his skin. The grimace of pleasure as he struggled to keep control.

“And if I say no?” He was gritting his teeth while you continued torturous stroke after stroke. “Would you beg?”

“Yes!” Daryl groaned without hesitation.

“Don’t worry, baby. You’ve had a hard day. I won’t make you beg.” You wondered briefly if you should ask him where he’d like to cum, but given the way he was currently writhing in restraint, you wouldn’t even get the question out. “Cum for me, Daryl.”

You opened your mouth not a moment too soon. Warm ropes hit your tongue before you sealed your lips over his tip, swallowing him down while he moaned and rocked his hips. His hands fell away from your hair, his chest heaving while half lidded eyes watched you drag your tongue over the length of him to savor every single drop.

“Mmmm, you’re so good for me.” You gently tucked him away— zipping his jeans, but leaving the button and belt open —before crawling up his body to press yourself against his chest. Your mouths met in a gentle kiss that allowed him to taste himself on your tongue. Settling on his lap, you smiled and leaned into his touch when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Did that make your bad day better?”

He gave you a lopsided smile, one you weren’t sure anyone else had ever seen. “Yes, ma’am.”

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mikkomacko · 1 month

Note

a request for mob boss Nico, is there ever a time where the boys call y/n for help because they trusted her and didn’t want to upset Nico?

Oh definitely it happens all the time. They use her to soften up blows to Nico when they mess up or help clean them up if things get out of hand.

The first time they realized they could call her though was when her baby Holtzy needed help

——————————————————————

Alex Holtz joined the Devs after he got into legal trouble back home and reached out to Jesper for help. He had been disowned by his family and was living on the streets, and he made a mistake that was gonna haunt him forever now that he was aging out of being a juvenile. So Nico and Jesper brought him in, sent out the private jet and moved him to Jersey where he moved into a loft with the Hughes boys.

Bad idea off the bat but they’re all young and Nico thought they’d click (They do, a little too well).

Late on a Friday, you and Nico were sprawled out on the living room floor with piles of Lego pieces between you. You were racing to see who could build their set the fastest, not that it mattered because there was no real prize, but you two loved the competition.

Nico was finishing up one of the succulents on his set when a ringing phone interrupted the romcom you’d put on the background. Assuming it was work phone based on the hour, you went about your business until Nico fumbled with his silent phone and looked at you in confusion.

“S’yours baby.” He catches your attention, and you look over to the coffee table where you left your phone. Sure enough it’s vibrating across the glass, the screen lit up with Alex’s name.

Quickly, you grab the phone and slide to answer.

“Hi Holtzy, you ok?”

Immediately you know something is wrong. You can hear it in his breath, how it shakes and quivers. And you can hear the frantic voices in the background, whatever boys he went out with tonight obviously panicking.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah, I’m here. What’s the matter?”

By now Nico is on his knees, watching you with concern. You can tell he’s ready to jump up and run, to fix whatever is going on. But Alex didn’t call him, he called you.

“I-something happened,” his voice is small and weak through the speaker and it makes your chest ache. “I didn’t mean to, I just-“

He’s cut off by a sob, one so shattering you can feel it in your own chest. “Ok, it’s ok. You wanna tell me where you are? I’m gonna come get you, ok?”

“Nico will be mad, he won’t want you here. I shouldn’t have-“

“Alex, he doesn’t care. We care about you, kid. Tell me where you are and I’m gonna fix it, ok?”

And Alex has always been good at responding to authoritative tones, better than any of the other boys that are his age. But he’s let down a lot of grown up’s in his life and you know how scared he is to do that to you and Nico.

He mumbles out an address not too far from the loft, telling you he’s in the lot out back with Jack and Luke.

“Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

Alex sniffles, chokes back another cry. “No, no drive safely. I can be ok.”

“I’ll be there in ten, don’t move and don’t touch anything ok? Unless someone’s gonna hurt you, you stay put.”

Mumbling his agreement, you tell him you’ll see him soon and hang up. Nico, having picked up on the conversation, has already collected the keys to the Range Rover and his gun, his feet tucked into his shoes.

“Where are we going?” He asks you and you pull on a jacket and shoes. Taking the pocketknife he holds out to you, you tuck into your pants.

“I’ll give directions.”

~~~~

Whatever Alex and the Hughes boys had been doing, they ended up outside an abandoned factory in a lot that is closed off.

Not that it stopped them seeing as the gate has been pried open and Nico is able to drive into the gravel covered lot.

You can see the Hughes boys kneeling over something on the sidewalk, barely illuminated by the street light. Alex is sitting a few feet away, curled into himself against the brick wall of the building. Before Nico can even stop the car, you’re jumping out.

Whatever scold Nico shouts after you is lost.

Jack and Luke look up at you helplessly when you jog up to them, panic stricken in the poor light. It only takes you a second to see why.

There’s a man under them, one that’s strangling out breathes and covered in blood. He doesn’t appear to be awake, but you realize the two brothers are both pressing their hands into the wound on his abdomen.

“Oh fuck,” you mumble, crouching down to feel for the man’s pulse. It’s weak, but it’s there so you rise again, wipe the blood on your finger onto your pants.

“Keep holding, I’ll be right back.”

Jack and Luke call after you but you don’t hear them. You’re too busy approaching Alex, sinking down to your knees in front of him. He doesn’t lift his head out of his hands until you gently touch his knees.

The sight of him almost has you in tears. His eyes are red and puffy, cheeks splotchy from crying and he’s matted his hair with the blood that was on his hands.

Somehow, he looks even younger than he actually is.

“Alex, are you ok? Are you bleeding?”

He shakes his head, a fresh set of tears streaming down his face. “I don’t know what happened, one minute we were joking around and then he was talking shit and shoving Luke and I-“

“You did what you had to,” you assure him, reaching for his hands. “You were protecting family, Alex and that’s what we do.”

You stroke over his knuckles, nod along as he tells you about how he just went blank, he was so angry he couldn’t even see anything and then the man was bleeding and they didn’t know what to do.

So Jack dragged him into the empty lot and told him to call Nico. He couldn’t though, he couldn’t let Nico know that he messed up so badly already.

You wait for him to finish talking, push his hair off his forehead. “It’s ok, it’s ok,” you assure him. “You did exactly what you were supposed to. You were smart and you were quick, and you protected Luke.”

“Nico told us to protect you,” he mumbles sadly “I shouldn’t have brought you into this but he’s so scary sometimes. What if he sends me back?”

You squeeze his fingers, make him look at you. “Holtzy, you’re a Dev.” You say firmly, “Nico knows what that means, we all know what that means. You’re here, you’re with us no matter what. And if you think me being here is putting me in danger, you’re wrong. It’s my job to protect all of you.”

Finally he relaxes, shaking as you rise and help him to his feet. You cup his face, wipe away the tear tracks on his face before pulling him down into a hug. He squeezes you back, grateful.

“Go to the car, there’s clothes in the back.” You instruct, nudging him towards the parked vehicle. “Ignore Nico, he’s just a driver tonight, ok?”

You can see the reluctance in his eyes but he nods anyway and drags his feet to the car. Taking a deep breath, you join Jack and Luke again, and Nico who’s now crouched down with them.

“He ok?” Nico asks you, glancing towards Alex. You nod, rolling up the sleeves of your hoodie. Accepting the answer, Nico hands you the med kit he’d brought out from the car.

“Didn’t know the plan,” he tells you “you gonna fix him or are we leaving?”

Jack and Luke look between the two of you, and then at each other. They’re obviously thrown by Nico’s behavior, and it’s then that you realize this is the first time one of them has called you in crisis.

“Fix him,” you decide, flipping open the large box and digging out everything you’ll need to clean him up and stitch him. “And when he wakes up, you’ll make sure he forgets everything.”

Nico’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised and impressed with your answer. “Yeah?”

You nod, pulling on some gloves. “But make sure he knows that if he ever touches Luke or even thinks about Alex, I’ll personally be undoing all the hard work I did on him tonight.”

You don’t miss the smile that rises on your boyfriend’s face, how his eyes crinkle and dimples sink into his cheeks. “Sure thing, boss.” He agrees, moving around you so he can pull your hair back for you and tie it up.

Pressing a kiss to your head, he rises to his feet and moves towards Alex and the car.

“Nico,” you stop him, and he turns to look at you. “He’s shaken and he’s sorry. Be a friend.”

Biting back another grin, he nods. “And clear out the backseat, these three are coming back with us.”

He nods and turns on his heel, doing as told. Certain that he’ll listen to you, you get to work on fixing up the man below you. And you swell with pride when Jack and Luke follow your lead like obedient soldiers.

#him and i #him and i asks #mob boss nico hischier #nico hischier #requested

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kana-daydreams · 2 months

Text

𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 || 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨

summary: Satoru comes home to see you wearing his blindfold. genre: fluff cw: none? Just some affectionate smooching. wc: 1.8k

With arms and legs sprawled out like a lifeless starfish across the plush cream carpet of Satoru’s bedroom, an audible sigh sounds past your lips at a pestering memory that has been swimming through your mind for the last couple of days.

“You guys have been dating for how long now?”

Outside at a frequented cafe front, shaded under its thick green awning from the heat of the summer sun, you peered across at Shoko who sat in the seat opposite your own with a cigarette tucked between her fingers.

Both of you were on a short lunch break, relieving yourselves of the taxing demands of your jobs as Jujutsu High’s only two proficient healers.

“…a month.” Your answer came out in a timid reply and sounded more like a question as you hid your embarrassed expression behind your extra large cup of iced coffee.

Shoko hummed and you watched as she took a long drag of her cigarette that burned away inches near the butt, a puff of smoke exhaling past her lips.

“Known each other for five years—been dating for a month,” she muses. “And still, he hasn’t made a move?”

You winced at her words. “No. He hasn’t.” You averted your eyes, confirming the disappointing reality that you and your boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, were yet to explore any forms of romantic intimacy beyond that of hugs and chaste kisses.

“You’re going over to his place this weekend, right?”

You direct your attention back at Shoko. “Yeah…”

“Then shoot your shot.” Shoko stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray in front of her.

Your brows wrinkled at her words. “Huh?”

“Make the first move.” She clarified and was not surprised when she watched you with tired eyes instantly blurted out the words “Impossible! Never! No!” in one breath, loud enough to garner the attention of the cafe’s other patrons around you.

The embarrassing moment as you recall it, makes your face warm, especially at your friend’s suggestion — ‘Make the first move.’

An action you didn’t think yourself capable of doing unless you were willing to die from a massive heart attack.

But still.

You wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss your boyfriend.

What it would feel like to have Satoru’s lips pressed against yours.

And what he would taste like.

Sweet, maybe?

You trace the tip of a finger absentmindedly along your lower lip, and when you realise you’re acting like a perverted old man (well woman in your case), you release a frustrated kind of cry.

You pull yourself to sit up, shaking your head to stop yourself from thinking too much about your dilemma. And decide to distract yourself until Satoru gets back from the short-noticed mission he’d left your cuddle session to attend to.

Momentarily, your endeavour leads you to seek interest near a dresser tucked away near one corner of the room.

The large mirror above it captures the reflection of a woman attired in an oversized Tee and pyjama pants donning a strip of black cloth tied loosely around the upper half of her face, while her swagger-like poses mirrors your own.

Snap!

Your phone snaps a few times and after a couple more snaps, you raise the blindfold you adorn a bit to look at your work. “I can’t wait to send these to Toru.” You scroll through the ton of pictures you’ve just taken, giggling at the reaction Satoru would pull when he sees them.

“Maybe I should do a video?” You muse before acting on the thought as you reattach your phone to the tripod on the dresser, tap the record button, and pull down your—Satoru’s blindfold.

You then arrange your body in a pose dripping with arrogance and confidence—and of course a lot of rizz. And commence your act when the timer runs down.

“I. am. the strongest!” You attempt to say in a deep voice but fail.

You stop the video and clear your throat. You do a few voice checks then repeat the filming process.

“Don’t worry baby boo, sugar lumps, my apple pie.” You give the camera a smug look , biting down seductively on your lips and say in a deep, gruff voice. “You know who I am?” You glance at the camera head-to-toe. “Well baby girl, I’m the strongest.”

“Hey! I do not sound like that.”

You freeze, startled at the real masculine voice that suddenly comes from behind you. And you slowly pivot your body around, raising the right side of the blindfold an inch to see none other than a tall figure with snow-white hair and a black blindfold that matches your own, standing at the entrance of the room with furrowed brows and cheeks puffed from a playful pout.

“Toru, you’re home!” You can’t help but giggle at your boyfriend’s childish reaction before, pausing the video, crossing the room in a few strides and throwing your arms around him in a tight embrace.

Satoru wraps his arms around your smaller frame being careful not to ruin the pink sparkly gift bag you were yet to notice in his hand containing a gift he’d gotten you during his mission. He then leans down to your height, touching a soft kiss to your forehead. “I see my baby’s missed me.” He smiles.

“Of course I did.” Your words are muffled against his broad chest, a satisfied smile gracing your face from the gentle feel of his kiss.

“Here. I’ve got you something.”

You unwillingly pull away from Satoru and fully tug the blindfold down to see the gift bag he holds towards you.

You retrieve it from his hands, peering into it to see brown doe eyes staring back at you.

“Toru, it’s so cute!” You squeal as you free the fluffy stuffed toy from its sparkly confines, cuddling it against your chest. “I love it!”

Satoru’s face beams at your response, the corners of his lips stretching into a somewhat bashful smile. “I’m so happy my baby likes it.” He says before his attention shifts to his spare blindfold that hangs around your neck, remembering that a moment ago he’d walked in on you rizzing up his mirror. “So what’s with the blindfold?”

“Oh, this?” Your fingers find themselves fiddling with the piece of said fabric. “I was just messing around.” You wave a hand dismissively at him, leaving his side to lay the toy against a plush pillow on the bed further across the room.

“You were that bored, huh?” Satoru chuckles as he trails behind you, before a teasing smirk winds its way onto his face. “How needy. I didn’t know my pretty girl would be so lonely without me. Maybe next time I’ll give you a body pillow with my face on it.”

Your face steams at his words, and you whirl around to meet his shadowed gaze. “I am not needy. I was simply bored, okay.” You cross your arms and jut out your lips—your plump and very, very kissable lips—Satoru thinks, finding it hard to peel his gaze off them. But reluctantly does when a thought clicks to mind.

“I’m sorry babe. You’re not that needy.” Satoru apologises and gently takes one of your hands, raising it to his lips before pressing a tender kiss on the back of your palm. “By the way, I’ve got another surprise for you. Do…you want it?”

“I won't be bribed, Toru.”

“C’mon baby. I think you’ll really like it.” He releases your hand to clasp his together and says in a sing-song voice, “And besides, I really, really would like to give it to you.”

“Is it food? Money?”

Satoru chuckles at your words. “You’ll see, but…” he drawls. “You’ve gotta put the blindfold back on.”

You arch a sceptical brow at that.“Why?”

You know Satoru.

And you know he’s probably scheming something—you can see it in the way the corners of his mouth curve up into an I’m-up-to-something smile.

“‘Cause…” He drags. “It's a gift I can’t give you unless you put the blindfold back on.”

His words don't make much–any– sense to you, but eventually, you relent after losing a minute–long staring competition between his translucent ocean-blue eyes and your own, persuaded by the pleading expression of your strikingly handsome and adorable Toru.

You sigh in defeat when Satoru finishes securing his blindfold with a loose knot across your eyes.“Now what?”

Your question is answered by Satoru's large hands reeling you in by your hips with gentle care, drawing you close and into his firm body.

The feeling of his strong arms circling your waist follows, leaving you to settle the palms of your hands against his chest. And with the little space left between your bodies, the soothing scent of him and a hint of his masculine cologne wraps itself around you, cloaking your senses like a fuzzy blanket.

“Don’t tell me this is the surprise?”

“So what if it is. My hugs are the best.” He says rather smugly and you can’t help but chuckle lightly at that.

“Yeah, they are.” You lean in closer to his soothing warmth.

A kiss to your forehead follows your boyfriend’s loving and comforting embrace, and a pleased hum leaves you at the affectionate gesture—you’ve always adored his forehead kisses.

Another kiss, equally as loving and tender is pressed to your blindfolded eyes, one at a time and your face scrunches slightly when he next, unexpectedly, plops a wet one to your nose.

“Toru!” You giggle, giggling some more when he kisses your nose again before moving to pepper feather-light kisses to your cheeks. Though your jubilant laughter abruptly cuts short when his lips start to slowly trail soft kisses along your jawline. One of the many parts of your body that has never been touched by his lips.

Heat rises up your neck and settles at your cheeks when his kisses continue to trace along your sensitive skin, burning more furiously when you feel his warm breath caress the right corner of your mouth.

He gives it a peck which makes your heart stutter.

“T-Toru?”

“Hm?” Satoru hums in response, and you feel the sensation of it vibrate against your skin.

“Is…Is this the surprise?” You question a second time, your voice a bit shaky as you do.

Satoru presses a kiss, this time to the left corner of your mouth. “Nope.”

“Then…what’s the sur—”

Your words are muffled when Satoru’s soft lips connect to yours. And your heart leaps, your face burning as both your lips meld together in a slow and tender kiss. A pleasant sensation for both you and Satoru short-lived when he pulls away, the deep blush that colours almost his entire face, obscured from your view by the black blindfold on your own.

His forehead presses gently against yours. “That is.” He says almost breathless, referring to your unfinished question, before capturing your lips in another and this time, much longer, deeper—and addictively sweeter kiss.

#𓇻 kana's jjk ddrms #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk satoru

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johnsgunbelt · 4 months

Note

Hey love, it's me again! *hehehe*

How would TF141 react to finding out that their girlfriend comes from old money and is filthy rich and her parents are hell-bent on getting her married off to some other old money dude whom she does not like.

Money problems - 141

Pariring: 141 x Rich!Fem Reader

Warnings: Violence?,Marriage arrangements,Fluff

John Price:

Well First it was the money…How the HELL did he not know?

He always saw you in designer, you always had your nails done and hair done, people always gave you looks in public and whispered.

And you didn’t really go out to eat unless the place was practically empty.

So when he found out to say he was shocked was an understatement he was astonished. But you then had to introduce him to your hell hole family that you hated.

He dressed his nicest and acted the exact way you told him to but your family seemed so bored and unimpressed.

“Right so…This is only temporary because we know a man who has agreed to marry you-” Your mom spoke up and you rolled your eyes tucking your tongue under your lip and Price knew that look he just sat there and let them have it. “I’m not getting married to some stuck-up rich boy jesus christ! Every time I visit we have this conversation.” Your mom tried to reason with you, “Well we wouldn’t if you had just found a nice man-” You cut her off and practically screamed at her. “I DID HE’S RIGHT THERE!! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU NOT SEE? SURE HE MAY NOT HAVE A MILLION DOLLARS LAYING AROUND-” “Listen ma’am I understand you want your daughter to marry someone with your kind of wealth but rest assured I can take perfect care of her-” You glared at John and he closed his mouth and let you talk. “See my point is I’m happy, how old is he?” “56.” “EXCUSE ME??” You spit your wine back into your glass and John held your hand under the table as he stood up with you.

“Odd, because I actually have a huge announcement.” And that's the story of how he proposed. In front of your pissed off parents and they were even more pissed when you said yes. But when your father got too old and had to pass down the family business to him? Man the look on his face was worth mass amounts of money.

What pissed him off the most is the business has never made so much money until John ran it. And you loved every bit of his sour expressions and dirty looks.

John 'Soap' Mactavish:

So it was pretty hard to keep any secret from Johnny, not that he was invasive or over-jealous. No not at all it’s just because he’s so easy to talk to and he’s caring.

So when you told him about your family and money he wasn’t too shocked I mean he noticed the designer stuff and the people whispering, he absolutely adored you though and didn’t wanna make a scene on it.

But when you practically dragged him to a suit store and then made him meet your parents he was shitting his pants.

You all went out to a fancy dinner and he shook your fathers hand and your mother as well but they didn’t seem impressed then you all sat down and looked over the menu.

“So, we found you a man. 56, he’s agreed to marry you.” John looked up from the menu, shocked as he gave you a side-eye of worry. “What? Absolutely not. I took time out of my day to introduce you to my boyfriend who by the way I LOVE. I shouldn’t have even bothered coming, I knew this would happen!”

John watched you yell at your parents and fight back and forth until he was snapped back into reality. “SO WHAT IF HE’S NOT RICH HE’LL TAKE OVER YOUR FUCKING BUISSNESS ONE DAY!!” And he cleared his throat and grabbed your hand under the table. “Well uhm…Nice meeting everyone here. I think I’ll take my leave with my lovely girlfriend.” And he waved them an awkward goodbye as he took you into the car, opening your car door for you and making sure you were settled as he got into the driver seat and put the car in drive.

“Let me guess..Taco bell and your favorite movie?” “Please. I can’t stand my family.” Tears streamed down your face but he rubbed your thigh and comforted you and made sure you were okay.

And to your word, he did end up running that company about 7 years later.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

Now he knew you were loaded, he just put two and two together and he didn’t care, even if you didn’t have any money he’d still love you the exact same.

So that being said, when you guys had a movie night and your mom called you and you put her on speaker he decided to listen in while he paused the movie.

“Hi mom, what's up?” “Hey sweetie! I have some amazing news!” You rolled your eyes and looked at Kyle but he seemed interested. “What? What is it?” “Well…We found you a husband! He’s 54 and he owns a very nice business-” Kyle’s jaw dropped and you were speechless. “Not that you’re interested in my life unless it benefits you but I have a husband.” “WHAT? And you didn’t tell us?” Kyle choked on air when you said this and you encouraged him to speak up.

“Hello ma’am…I’m Kyle.” He spoke shyly and nervously and it seems like your mother wasn’t impressed. “Well hello Kyle and what do you do for work?” “Oh nothing special..Military.” Your mother gasped and hung up and Kyle just looked at the phone and then you.

“Marry me?” “What?” “I said, marry me. Your mom thinks we're married so let's get married.” You just shook your head yes as he stood up and put his shoes on. “Where are you-” “A ring, What’s your ring size sweetheart?” “Uhm..I’ll just come with you.” You put on some slippers and followed him outside to the car and went to go get a beautiful ring.

You got married officially around a year later and yes he formally met your family and they got accommodated to him and when he took over the business for your dad the family just put up with him for money.

Your sister being the worst constantly asked but Kyle always declined due to the fact you didn’t like her so he listened to you and didn’t ask questions. He didn’t have a death wish. He loves you.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

He knew about the money, matter of fact he knew your family but did he wanna spoil the fun? Course not.

So when you told him about the money he told you straight up he knew about the money, but since you didn’t mention your family he didn’t either.

But when you mentioned meeting your family he came clean, told you how he was your fathers security before joining the military. You gasped but you didn’t remember him for some odd reason.

But that’s maybe because he lied, he knew your father because he may or may not have been a hitman back in the day..But we’ll get into that later, maybe.

So when you took him to meet your parents he presented himself nice and your father seemed off, but you decided to keep quiet. But then your mother started speaking about marriage

“Ah, Sucks she’s already married to me.” “WHAT? IS THIS TRUE?” You nodded and showed your ring to her and he showed his wedding band like a trophy.

Was it maybe set up because you knew your parents would go nuts? Yeah but did you guys actually get married a year later? Yeah!

You and Ghost did eventually take over the company but you do most of the work due to his deployments but whenever he’s home he does as much as he can and he does whatever you ask of him.

Did it now come to light about him being your fathers hitman? No. He never told you and neither did your father.

Ghost didn’t wanna see his sweet angel worry about old problems that were already taken care of.

He loved how innocent you were, he didn’t wanna ruin it.

I loved this so much, your requests always EATTTTT🙈!!

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cvlutos · 1 year

Text

"DELIVER" Pt.One

✦ | 03.27.23 |

✦ | TWST!VARIOUS X GN!READER | TWST: MAFIA AU

✦ | Synopsis: | You deliver letters all across the eight districts and Ramshackles. A quite fulfilling job, until one day you and your neighbor have a horrible mix up. He's involved in something he shouldn't be and you just happened to be the last person he talked too.

[OVERVIEW]

Mafias are no joke.

They're dangerous. Violent. Some more than others. Yet it has been covered in gold, glamorized til the point of no return. Yet it isn't senseless murder, but only a few words can deem any murder from senseless to meaningful. It's best to not interact with them at all, it's best to simply know they exist and avoid them. Unless you desire end with them, or below.

Splattered drops of rain beat down on his form, shoes slippery as he turned down alleyways, shoulders and body slamming into the stone walk, nearly falling over himself to run away. His sight blinded by his wet hair, and clothes stained in dirty and blood.

He's been deemed a thief.

He can hear the loud shouts of orders from behind, the barking of dogs, and heavy footsteps that didn't stop and falter in the rain, an unmoving force that was moving faster than the boy. He continues twisted and turning, praying to any god, that he survives, he has to survive, the people have to know. They must. He stumbles out into the empty street, hands frantically wiping at his face, gasping and spitting out water, a moment to slow.

The sound of a gun rings out, ripping through the flesh of the boy, his body within moments topping over from the sheer-velocity and force, feeling the bullet rip through skin and rest painfully within his back. He blinks the tears from his eyes, as his body lands face first into the cobble stone ground.

Lifeless.

Those chasing him slow, staring the dead body be continuously beat down by the rain, and the rolling crackle of thunder, there's a hushed spread of commands, 'Grab the body. We'll show the Boss.' Voice is blank, as if almost grieving at the unnecessary loss of human life, before turning to his partner- his "friend", who easily tucked the gun away. A shark-like smile spread across his lips.

"He was wanted dead—Now he's dead." He merely shrugs, while the man with a spade symbol upon his face scowls.

"He was wanted alive. You went against the rules." The merman merely shrugs once again, making a 'blah' sound at the mention of the Queendom's rules.

A senseless murder to one, meaningful murder to another.

══════ ♡ ════════════ ♡ ══════

Death Certificate letters are the worse letters to ever have to deliver.

The road bumpy beneath your bike wheels, your leather satchel within your metal basket. You offer smiles to those you pass, those who worked in the gardens, picking and planting fresh vegetables and fruits, a group of older women and young girls, that always offer a wave and without outfail a dinner invitation, always adding 'the more the merrier' and there right, it's fun to not eat alone.

You ride your bike over twisted and bends, passing a small library where the owner watered his windowsill flowers, waving at you, and you wave back with a small smile. He's an old man, wrinkly and gray, with a single wooden leg, some say he got it during a fight with the Octavinelle Mafia, though most the others think he's lying, but a good lie never hurt no one.

The Ramschackles are diverse and lively midday, pressing on the breaks as a young man and his children blocked the road, letting his cattle walk through, leading the towards the pasture on the other side. He greets you, asking about your day, as his son climbs the old fencing shouting for the cows to go faster, and his daughter begs to ride the cows, pulling on the pants of his father. You remember the birth of the twins, nearly 6 years ago. You can't help but smile, giving each kid a piece of candy which you got from visiting Heartslabyul, which the father silently mouths a 'thank you', his wife had died in the last fall.

Once the last cow passed, your sped off, familiar with every bump and lump, though all the large rocks having been removed by a group of men, promising to make the road safer for you, and they did. Even covering up the major holes with dirt to make it even. Even amongst the mass of houses and homes, you can see the house that the certified was for, Ms. Louis, a widower, and now, a mother without her son.

Turning a sharp curve and halting in front of her home, kicking down your kickstand and climbing off your bike, yanking you satchel from the basket and fixing down your hair and clothes as you walked up the narrow stops, skipping the creaky board, as your rummaged through your bag. Before you can even knock, the door swings open, just as you grab the envelope.

"[Name], you're here." She speaks with a soft inhale, as if she ran from her kitchen to answer, she has deep eye bags, and her black hair is messy and undone. She attempts to smile, but you can tell by the shakiness of her hands, she's panicking—scared.

You pass her the envelope, yet you can't speak, far too afraid that your voice would crack, and you'd witness this woman all five stages of grief before she could open the yellow envelope. She doesn't wait til your leave, ripping off the edge immediately, you can see her green eyes begin to water, she already knows what awaits her. She tosses the packaging aside, hands running over the thick cardboard paper, fingers tracing the words of her son. She breaks down in sobs, and you hold her, feeling her frail form lean against you, arms wrapped around your shoulder, as she cries and speaks in broken sobs.

"H-he's dead! They-They kill-killed him!" She hiccups, voice cracking, you can feel her already broken heart shattering. Her crying gains the attention of others, some already sure of the fate that her son befell the moment he left the safety of the Ramschackles. Others asking to look at the certificate, as your pull away, watching them read over the piece of paper.

"Bullshit! That boy was no thief!" A neighbor, he shots angrily, holding the paper firm in his hand, as he points to Ms. Louis. "He ain't no thief!" His wife pats his arm, wiping the tears from her eyes, shaking her head at her husband's outburst. "He ain't mean it, Liz. He just hurtin""

"I know. I know." Liz let's put an exasperated laugh, shaking her head as she wipes her tears, walking down the steps and taking the paper back. "I know my Tommy was doing good," she lets out a shaky sigh, before turning back to you, "he always does good. Forgive me, it's been long since I've cried so hard. I know my boy wouldn't want be sobbin' over him like that."

"It's good to cry." You respond with a smile.

"They'r right. Tears ain't hurt nobody.” The husband speaks with a firm headnod, wagging his finger as Liz merely laughs making her way the steps to her house.

"Im in the process of finishin' that onion soup, with the chicken, if you wanna stay for lunch." The husband and wife immediately agree, the wife promising to get the newest loaf of bread to eat with it, as the husband made his way towards the house. Liz glances at you, hopefully. You feel bad, but pat your satchel.

"I got a few more letters, but save me a bite." You hop down the steps as she laughs, climbing back onto your bike and ringing the bell a few times, with a chuckle, before racing off.

The Ramschackles have always and will always be resilient.

"You had not the jurisdiction!"

Within a room of Crowley Hall, surrounding a table stands seven people. The Red-Rose Tyrant, The King of Beasts, The Deep-Sea Merchant, The Silly Sultan, The Fairest, King of the Underworld, and lastly The General. Tension is thick, palpable, you can almost taste it on yourself tongue.

Vil Schoenheit, The Fairest, was the first to speak, a clear scowl upon perfectly glossed lips, hair pulled back into a bun, clearly tired and annoyed. "Azul, we were supposed to agree,"

"And we did. Forgive me if Heartslabyul was too slow. Floyd is of course an uncontrollable force, and we wanted him dead, no?"

Azul Ashengrotto, The Merchant Of The Deep, has a faux pout, his voice drenched in fake concern, a heavy trench jacket hanging over his shoulders, eyes behind silver glasses beyond amused.

Riddle Rosehearts, The Red-rose Tyrant, stucks in a breath through his teeth, clearly angry, with the furrowing of his red brows. "You had no right. Under law, Floyd's head he be placed along my wall. Our suspect was not supposed to be killed."

"He was a thief. Isn't theft against your laws?" Leona Kingscholar, The King Of Beasts, stands directly infront of Riddle, still across the wide table, a deeply bored expression upon his face, yet his eyes seemed to glow in amusement.

"Exactly. I don't see why I'm such a target for such hate." Azul lets out a pitiful sigh, causing Riddle to slam his hands against the table, nearly knocking over various glasses, he glowers at the mafia boss of Octavinelle.

"If he fought back! You mercilessly killed him upon Heartslabyul soil! Do not deny it!"

"He had information, why give him a chance to live," Azul pushes up his glasses, a cruel grin spreading across his face, "unless you were working with him?"

Leona shakes his head, eyes fluttered close. "For shame."

"That wouldn't be a good look upon Heartslabyul either." Azul continues, before a clearing of a throat cuts him off.

Lilia Vanrouge, The General, the stand in for Diasomnia's Boss. "He had information. Information he shouldn't have. Information that resulted in his death. A shame it is..."

"It was senseless." Riddle crosses his arms, a scowl deep on his face still.

"But the information made it meaningful." Azul continues to keep his artificial smile, eyes on Lilia. The fae merely clears his throat, crossing his arms, a smile child-like grin on his face.

"We cannot go back in time to do differently. Our next step of action is to find if he could've possibly told another person. Any ideas Idia?"

Idia Shroud, The King Of The Underworld, his eyes dart across him screen before nodding. Using his fingers to spread out a image of the Ramschackles, showing the image of a tiny hovel with a rickety iron fence and old stone pathway.

"Hey, [Name]! This is absolute gold! I gotta tell ya!"

A young boy with blonde hair, and freckles walks beside you as your push your bike. He's holding a letter that you delivered to him simply moments ago. He waves it excitedly. He was a mafia fanatic, loved anything and everything about the place. To the point it had you concerned sometimes. The letter you had given him was from the Thomas Louis, or Tommy.

"Let me tell ya! If I get this to the news! Ooh Wee! Imagine! All that money." He punches the hair, and you shake your head.

"Don't go messin' with the Mafias."

"They aint gon' hurt no nobody like me." Henry has always been excitable, there's not a moment you haven't seen him without a smile that rivals the sun. "Well, I ain't gon' be a nobody for long." He voice quiets, but the smile is still there. Silence.

He opens his mouth to speak again, until a familiar chime of a bell and a holler of 'Henry' sounds loud and clear. "COMIN' MA!" He glances back at you with a grin. "Tomorrow. Imma tell you all about my big plan."

"I'm excited to hear about it." You watch him let out a happy laugh, before running off with a final wave. You spot your home in the distance, picking up your pace, as your place your bike against the metal fence.

Now, you love your home within the Ramshackle, your Lil hovel, and your small garden with your cat. You love it, truly you do. You love your neighbors, and you love the festivals that the Ramshackle holds. You love it all.

Your leather satchel hangs off your hip, filled to the brim with different letters and papers from your most recent trip. You just returned from Scarabia, having a good easy delivery for the old man that lives up the street, and after a long day, you're finally home.

You push past the old rickety iron gate, and up the stone pathway, eyes searching along for your familiar feline friend. He usually waits for you. Hopping the old creaky steps, until you stop right in front of a card. Perfectly placed with gold decor. 'For Ramschackle's Perfect. You're invited to Crowley Hall' written directly on the front. Ramshackle's Perfect was only a joke type name among the people that lived in, said Ramshackle.

Who else would call you that?

You pick up the letter, glancing around the porch, before slipping inside your home, and closing the door behind you. Crowley Hall, also known as the Grand Dinner Hall, a place where all important events took place, especially the meeting of all seven mafia leaders. Why would someone invite you with no other information?

You flip the card, there's nothing else. Your shoulders slump, you shouldn't go. Yet, you stare at the words once again. It could be important or lead to trouble for the other people of Ramshackle. Your eyes drift over to your clock. It was only 7 pm.

You had five hours.

You glance back at the thick fancy card. Five hours before 12. You feel a familiar purr, and glance down at your cat, Grim rubbing against your legs. Five hours, and well, as long as you're back before midnight. You'll be fine.

Right?

#t.manor.horror.stories #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader #twisted wonderland x mc #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #mafia au #twst au

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brokenpieces-72 · 3 months

Text

Stray

Task force 141 x dog! reader

Author note: in this story, you are 100% dog. Not a hybrid (unless we’re talking mixed breed), not a half human half dog. You are a full on dog. Think Lassie or Littlest Hobo. With that in mind, enjoy.

Let me know if you want to added to the Taglist.

The 141 are taking some time straightening out the base, doing general tasks. Ghost is fixing up some jeeps, changing the oil, making sure the engine is working properly, and loading it up with the proper gear. Soap is doing some inventory stuff, after going through weapons he was asked to help in the kitchen, assisting with meal prep. Gaz has a similar task but it was more based on an accident from another soldier who spilled a couple storage totes of ammunition. He had to sort all of them with the soldier’s help. Price was having to go over some files and paperwork that Laswell had sent over to review and fill, as well as writing some reports.

You wander on to base by sheer accident. You overhear noise and strange smells in the garage. The bay doors are open for Ghost’s safety, as he does need to turn on the engines from time to time (carbon monoxide). You wander in and sniff around curiously, while Ghost is under a vehicle lying on a creeper. Your nose picks up his scent, but it’s very faint from all the stronger ones. Instead you find the toolbox more interesting than the oddly masked man in the black t shirt and overalls. You find an odd metallic tasting stick and bite down on it to pick it up. For a while you try chewing it before getting fed up and shaking your head around. The tool gets out of your grip and flies across the room, hitting the metal walls. The loud bang startles you and you bolt from the garage. The lieutenant rolls out from under the vehicle, to inspect the sudden bang. He looks over and sees the torque wrench across the room. Once he gets to his feet to retrieve it, you’ve long since bolted out of there and into another part of the base. Eventually you smell something else. Food? You notice a couple soldiers hauling cargo towards the base kitchen. Not wanting to be spotted you follow them and duck behind the crates waiting for the soldiers to leave before slipping inside. Once you see an opening you wander in and sniff around looking for what you’re sure is meat. At this point though you would take any scraps, your mouth visibly drooling. At this point Soap has been getting the meat cooked and you smell the remaining juices on his hands. You’re tucked behind an island counter, watching him work away. Soap finishes prepping the steaks and gets them seasoned and laid on foil for them to cook later. You still smell those mouthwatering, delicious smells of prepped steaks as he walks to another spot in the kitchen. Then you hear running water, and small something else. No no no, the smell is disappearing! Where did the meat go? Did he wash it down the sink?!

Soap finishes washing his hands and goes to another part of the kitchen where a couple of soldiers are sitting around an emptied box with a few other boxes with potatoes inside. Soap is glad he wore his comfortable cargo pants today cause the chairs were not gonna be comfortable to sit on for long periods. He got a new apron, discarding the old on in a bin. It didn’t hold the same smell, to your disappointment. But those potatoes would do. You just needed to get them away from the boxes. You’d learned from experience that kitchen staff don’t like when you take their food, even when you beg nicely. Soap puts a new apron on, not wanting to get wet stains on his grey shirt, if he missed the box.

You wait patiently, which isn’t really patient. It feels like forever that they’re peeling potatoes but you know more people might come, and you’re really hungry. This would have to be a grab ‘n grub. You eye one potatoe, and it goes into soldier’s hand. Okay not that one. That potatoe then, nope another soldier took it. Dang it. They kept grabbing them before you could lock on to a proper target. Screw it, you’re hungry. As soon as Soap takes out the potato from the box, locked in conversation with the others you make your move. You bolt out of the hiding spot, and snatch the food from his hand, just getting his fingers a bit. Soap looks down, only seeing an oddly shaped mass coming towards him out of the corner of his eye. He isn’t fast enough though to stop you from getting your target, and snatching it from his hand and running off out of the kitchen. You do knock over some boxes and cause a soldier to stumble while Soap is still reeling from what just happened.

Finally you’ve got some food! Your tail is wagging while you’re bounding across the base with joy, looking for somewhere to eat. It’s a little difficult as your stunt got you in a some trouble, so soldiers are looking around to figure out what happened. Nothing to high security but it’s clear you’ve cause a bit of a disturbance and you hear the soldier barking and shouting to figure out where you are. While he’s outside you best go inside and you find another door open, this one leading into the big building. You duck around corners and into rooms as you look for a safe spot. Soon you find one just outside a storage room. The potato is nothing compared to the meat Soap had been making but it would suffice. You continue eating, chewing away until you notice a couple men leaving the room. Not noticing you laying on the floor with a potato you go back to it until you hear someone sighing inside the room. Thankfully you’re able to finish your potato and lick up the rest before peeking inside and noticing Gaz sorting cartridges. They were pretty much everywhere with one right by your paws at the door. Gaz was sitting on a bin collecting groups of cartridges and putting them in groups to oraganize back into bins afterwards. After a good stretch you pick up one of the cartridges in your mouth and bring it over to him. Gaz looks up surprised to see a dog, but pleased seeing what’s in your mouth. When he tries to take it though you pull it away. You offer it again, but pull it back again.

“Come on dog, give. Drop it.” He orders. You don’t and instead step back bouncing with your front paws, and wagging your tail. Gaz gives in and stands reaching for the cartridge and you pull it away again, nearly making him trip over the other ammo on the floor.

“Oi! Come here.” He says, but you’re running off again in no time, making him give chase. By now he knows you’re not a K-9 so he wants to avoid damage while he can. You figure it’s all a game though. You keep running and eventually run past Price’s office who by now hears Gaz calling after you to drop the ammo. He gets up and peeks out of office, seeing only your fluffy tail as you round a corner, while Gaz slows outside his office.

“Kyle you want to tell me what’s going on?” Price asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Cap’n I-“ Kyle starts, but soon is cut off by a ticked off Scottsmen further down the hall.

“Ya bloody food stealing mongrel!” Soap shouts. Kyle and Price exchange a look before heading in the direction of the Scottish anger.

They find soap cornering you with the cartridge still in your mouth. You know you’re in trouble now. You finally drop the cartridge, ears going flat and whimpering.

“Sergeant?” Price asks. Soap doesn’t take his eyes off you, keeping you in the corner.

“We’ve got a rogue dog.” The sergeant calls back.

“Yeah I can see that, ease up on it Soap.” The Captain instructs. You whimper in the corner, barking at Soap now. You just wanted to leave now. You didn’t like someone keeping you cornered, and yelling at you.

“Soap let up.” Kyle insists. The sergeant steps back and as you continue to cower in the corner, giving a few more scared barks. Price shook his head. Clearly a stray that had wandered in by accident and was just hungry and wanting attention.

“What do we do with it captain?” Kyle asks. You look up at the burly man who is asking himself the very same question. Price sighed and stepped closer putting his hand out for you to sniff. There’s more whimpers at first, but you give a small sniff.

“You’re okay… you’re okay.” He says softly, and reaches out to touch you. You whimper again but his gently hand in your fur calms you down. It’s not everyday you get someone willing to pet you, or rather show you kindness. You keep your eyes on the captain letting him pet you. In the process Price was checking your collar for any information. Nothing. The collar was pretty rugged and in leather.

“I think this one needs a bath. Don’t need anyone getting fleas.” He says.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @H0n3y_L3m0n @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846

#dog #doggo #john soap mactavish #task force 141 x reader #simon ghost riley #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #gender neutral reader #doggy #inhuman reader #k9

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Text

The Grey Zone 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, age gap, bullying, toxic parental figures, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: Your relationship with your parents has never been good, and that with a family friend takes a strange turn(goth!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Note: Oh my mustachioed man!

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

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Lloyd pulls in at the last rest stop before you officially enter the true desolation of the northern wilds. You open your door before he can even turn off the engine, unable to hold back the spew of sickness. You spit onto the tarmac as the sun sets darkly above. You grip the door and flinch as Lloyd reaches over to rub your back.

"You okay, baby cakes?" He asks as you press the back of your hand to your mouth and sit back, trapping his hand against the seat.

"Yeah, I just get car sick, like I said," you're almost breathless as the bile sears in your throat, "I should go rinse my mouth out."

"Need help?" He asks and you send him a confounded look. He winks as you struggle to decipher his meaning.

"No," you unbuckle your seat belt and grab your little leather knapsack.

"I guess you're not in the mood for any snacks?" He says as he climbs out on his side, mirror you as you shut your door.

"No, I'm good," you cough.

You walk in stride with him, trying to keep ahead as you're paranoid about your breath and any possible dribble from your vomit. He reaches past you to open the door and holds it open. You flit in and search for the bathroom sign, leaving him behind as the taste of your sickness dries on your tongue.

You hurry down the hall and push into the ladies. You crank on the sink and bend over to rinse your mouth out. You dry off, wiping away much of your black lipstick.

You fish a mint out of your bag and reapply the tint to your lips, checking your reflection one last time. You go into one of the stalls, just to be sure and wash your hands before venturing out into the store.

As you come out. Lloyd stands by the magazine shelf, browsing without intent. He glances over at you and smirks, his hands full.

"Got ya... ginger ale," he holds up the green bottle, "and some anti-nausea stuff." He shakes the box of tablets.

"Oh, you didn't have to..."

"I saw it, so... whatever," he hands over the items, "paid and good to go, unless you need anything else."

"All good," you muster a smile.

"You just relax, sweetheart," he waves you towards the door, "we're looking at making midnight if we're lucky. You rest up... you'll need your energy for your vacation."

"Thanks," you mutter. You don't plan on relaxing, you have textbooks and more than enough homework.

"Let me get this," he opens the door for you again.

You step through and he follows closely, just grazing the loose fabric of your pants. You feel a tug but don't think much of it right as he passes you and hits the unlock button on his keys. You near the car and drop into the passenger seat with your goodies.

You crack the seal on the ginger ale, the mint tainting the flavor. You open the box of pills and break one free of the insert. You swallow it with another swig of soda and put the bottle in the cupholder, tucking away the pills in your bag before shoving it between your feet. You lean back and buckle up.

Lloyd turns the engine and flips the stereo on again. You're tired already. You're glad he's taken on most of the driving, aside from his lead foot.

"That's it, you just chill," he reaches over and claps his hand on your thigh, "we'll be home before we know it."

"Home?" You wonder.

"Home away from home," he shrugs and pulls his hand back to the wheel and shifts into gear. "don't worry about it, babe. I got you."

You don't respond. You're not really sure how to and you're stomach is still gurgly. You just want the meds to kick in so you can close your eyes without getting dizzy.

"Alright, back on the road," he steers around the lot, following another car towards the ramp, "huh," he snorts as he speeds up.

"What?"

"Nah, just thinking... feels like... a movie," he muses as he sits back, keeping one hand nonchalantly on the wheel even as the speedometer ticks up, "like we're going away on a honeymoon. Some ridiculous romcom... or maybe a horror movie. You seem partial to the latter."

"I guess. That's a stereotype though. I'm not really a horror person."

"No?" He sniffs, "my bad. I saw that Poe collection on your shelf, so I assumed--"

"I like to read, not so much into seeing gore," you shrug.

"Fair," he replies, "surprising..."

"Why's it surprising?"

"I didn't take you as squeamish with the whole..." he points to his nose, "ring thing."

You reach up to touch your septum.

"Oh, I couldn't really see them doing it," you say.

"Not that I don't like it," he assures you, "it's a look."

You furrow your brow and nearly laugh. Is he trying to sound young and hip or something? At least he's not like your mother, lecturing you on mutilating your body.

"You got any ink? Tattoo or something?" He asks, "something mommy and daddy don't know about?"

"Um, no," you say, "it's... expensive."

"Oh, do I ever know," he clucks.

"You have a tattoo?"

"Sure do," he pats his chest, "I'll give you a look once we get where we're going. It's nothing hardcore. Mostly a college mistake."

"Ah, makes sense."

"What else is college for?" He winks at you in the rearview, "making memories."

"Sure," you agree and yawn into your hand.

"I'll shut up now," he scoffs, "you rest that pretty head."

You look at him, hesitating before letting yourself relax against the seat. You cross your arms and lean into the door, closing your eyes to keep from glancing out the window. He must have got the drowsy stuff, your head is swimming.

🖤

Soon the motion of the car turns from alarming to soothing. You let yourself sink into the anti-nauseant laced drowse itching on your eyelids. You blink, slower and slower, as you succumb to the dark sky and your induced exhaustion. You drift into semi-consciousness, the engine still whirring in your ears.

The hours slip by like seconds and you wake much before your ready too. Not quite all the way as your head wobbles and your body feels buried in sand. You drag your hand across your face clumsily as the car slows and you hear the chirping of crickets. You grumble, batting your lashes before letting them close again. You nestle into the door, reaching for sleep once more.

A soft rumble, like a chuckle, rises as the engine quiets completely. You feel a shift and hear the driver's side door. You can't tell if it's real or you're dreaming. Not until your own door opens and your seatbelt barely keeps you from falling out of the car.

Lloyd nudges you back and snickers again, "ah, look at you, sleepy girl."

He bends over you, his fingertips fluttering over your stomach as he reaches to undo your seatbelt. You moan as you struggle to keep your eyes open. His shadow blocks the moonlight as your tongue sticks dryly to the roof of your mouth. You feel... more tired than you should.

"Let's get you to bed, huh? Look at you," he lets his hand wander down your thigh, "fuck, you're so warm." He tickles you through the fabric of your pants and you shiver, "and it's damn chilly, isn't it?"

He pushes his hands between your thighs and you gasp. You reach for him and he bats your hand away easily. He cups your cunt through your pants and you squirm. He puts his other arms below your chest, pinning you to the seat.

"Wha..." you babble.

"Shhhh, it's alright, babe," he purrs as he bends, pulling his hand down your thigh as he parts them wide, dipping his head into your lap. "Mmmm, you smell delicious."

He buries his face in your pelvis and takes a deep breath before exhaling hotly into you. You whimper and push on his head. He chuckles and pulls his head back. He raises the hand he had cupped against you and sniffs that too.

"The way I'm gonna taste you and find out it you're just as good as you smell," he stands and hooks his arms under yours, lifting you out of the seat, "and you're gonna be begging me for it."

"What are you talking..."

"It's okay, honeybee, you're fucking out of it," he snaps shut the passenger door, keeping you against him, "if I wanted to, I could fuck you in the dirt right now but that's no fun."

"Huh?" You lean against him, your feet unsteady in your platform boots.

"My dicks been hard since we got in the car, you're lucky I don't test your throat out," he guides you along the pebbles and twigs, a large structure looming limned in moonlight.

"Mr. Hansen?" You eke out.

"Relax, I'm gonna put you to bed, nice and cozy. Cozier on my dick but we'll save that," he teases as his hand creeps down to squeeze your ass, "you got some of those rings in your nips too? Kinky shit."

You shake your head, stumbling with him up the wooden steps of the cabin. The place is dark and you didn't notice if your dad's SUV was there yet. They must have got there by then.

Lloyd angles you through the front door and moves seamlessly through the dark. His strength is unsettling, knowing he could do anything and you couldn't fight him off. Even if you weren't groggy.

"Come on, princess," he hums as he takes you up the stairs, each step creaking.

"Please," you beg, "why..."

"Shhh," he hushes you as he gets you to the top.

Your panic pulses and you try to shove away from him. He lets you and you go crashing into some unseen shape and bounce onto the floor. The noise of your tumble is deafening. Lloyd cackles and you hear something else. Suddenly, footsteps barreling but uneven, a door opens further down.

"What the fuck is going on?" Your mother snarls drunkenly.

"Nothing, Connie," he calls through a chortle, "girl's just a bit hopped up."

"Hopped up?!" She shrieks and you hear her struggling before she emerges, shining a light at you from the flash of her cell phone, "what?!"

"Calm down, she had some dramamine," he scoffs, "she doesn't have the same tolerance as you, Con."

"Oh, shut up," she huffs and turns back, casting the light away from both of you, "keep it down, some of us are trying to sleep."

"Pleasant as ever," he mutters as he slides his arms under you and lifts you. You touch your forehead, dizzied as he cradles you against his chest. He walks down the hall and stops to push open a door with his foot. He stands in the frame and clucks, "just like a honeymoon, huh? Me carrying you over the threshold." He enters and moves carefully through the dark as it thickens, "but we'll save the fun stuff for now."

He puts you on the bed and you grumble. He hovers over you, his hand trails down your body. You shiver and he presses his lips to your forehead and growls, "I can wait…"

He pushes away and stands straight, lurking as you feel him staring down at you. You hug yourself and roll onto your side, weak and disoriented. He takes in an audible breath and lets it out.

"I'm not even gonna jerk off, as much as my balls are swinging like barbells," he taunts as he leans back on his heels, "I'm saving it all up for you, baby." He clicks his tongue in his cheek, "I'm even gonna be a gentleman and bring your stuff in. Don't worry, you can be naughty for me."

You don't say a word as you close your eyes, hoping to shut out this twisted reality. You hear him retreat, slow deliberate steps that stoke your nerves. He's letting you be for now, but it won't be forever. And now you know exactly what he wants…

🖤

The morning greets you with the sight of an unfamiliar room. Your memory doesn’t rush back but trickles in. A patchwork begins to form in your mind; your father sending you off with Lloyd, his herky jerky driving, the rest stop, and the wobbly scenes that came after.

You remember a conversation but not every word. Only enough to set you on edge. You sit up sharply as the words etch in your mind; ‘don’t worry, you can be naughty for me’. You want to shrug it off as a figment of your own imagination but it’s all too real in your mind.

You look around at the bedroom. Hardwood side for the walls and similarly coloured slats across the floor. The bed frame is elaborate, hand-carved with ornate knobs at the top of each post. There’s a quilty haphazardly pulled over you, gathering at your waist as you hold yourself with palms flat to the mattress.

Your duffle is in the plaid armchair set in the corner. It’s empty. You shake your head, clearing out the last of the cobwebs. Despite the nausea meds and a night of almost lifeless sleep, you wake swiftly. You feel eerily alert of every detail.

You get up and near the tan dresser, your reflection appearing in the circle mirror perched above. Your eye makeup is smeared and your lipstick only left at the edges of your lips. You’re a mess.

Your hat hangs on the one of the posts that holds up the mirror and your knapsack from the other. You rest your hands on the thin metal handles and slide the top drawer open slowly. You look down as the wood grinds loudly.

Your underwear is neatly folded to one side but you didn’t pack enough to fill the whole drawer. At the other side, there’s something else, something unfamiliar. You touch the lacy fabric and hook your fingers through the slender straps.

You pull it out of the drawer and let it hang down to the floor. It’s a full body suit, lace in the pattern of spiderwebs, with no lining. It wouldn’t hide much at all. You look up and see yourself positioned behind it, as if you’re trying to see what it would look like on.

You lower the garment and clear your throat. Last night wasn’t a dream, you’re lucky it was a nightmare. You quickly tuck the lacy bodysuit back into the drawer and close it.

What do you do? Do you tell your parents? You don’t imagine your mother would believe you, if she even listened. She’s already into the wine. And your father, Lloyd is his friend. He’d probably shrug it off as one of his jokes.

You back up and turn to the rest of the room. You hear the birds chirping, trees swaying, and the soft breeze flowing in through the slightly open window. You cross to the pane and look out at the deep cluster of trees that stretches for miles. It’s all the more obvious then that you’ve walked straight into his trap.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #the grey zone #the gray man

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veeluvss · 5 months

Text

✮⋆˙ “Smile, Aaron!”

Day 6 of 12 days of Christmas

Aaron x reader

1545

You are Aaron’s new gf and spend Christmas Day with him and Jack

“Y/N look at my Darth Vader lego!” Jack exclaimed as you entered the apartment. It was Christmas Morning and you’d let Jack and Aaron have their morning together before heading in.

“Jack, let y/n get in first buddy,” Aaron laughed. You smiled and embraced Aaron. His strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist and he even lifted you off your feet slightly. You squealed, not expecting it.

“Merry Christmas beautiful,” he whispered.

“Merry Christmas handsome,” you replied. He lifted your chin with his fingers and took your lips into a soft kiss. Jack ‘ewwed’ as he watched it and you laughed, pulling away. You tried to hide your blush but it was unsuccessful. He wrapped an arm around your waist and you turned to his son.

“Whats this present you got?” You asked him.

“It’s star wars lego! Can we build it now? Can you help y/n?” He asked, smiling up at you with his big eyes.

“Dinner is nearly ready but you can start it together,” Hotch said.

“How about you open my presents, we set the table and then after dinner, we can start it - all three of us?” You suggested. Jack’s eyes lit up widely.

“You got us presents?”

“Of course I did! Go sit down.”

You picked up the large bag that you left by the door and Aaron looked at you.

“You didn’t need to get us anything.”

“I know,” you said, smiling. “I wanted to. Go sit.”

Both your boys sat eagerly. Jack with his legs tucked under him on the floor and Aaron sat on the sofa.

“Okay, it’s nothing mega. I just saw them all and thought of you,” you said. You handed Jack the three for him and Aaron two for him. Jack immediately ripped off the paper and out fell another star wars lego set which made Aaron laugh.

“More!” Jack exclaimed.

“More! It’s not as fancy as your Darth Vader one but your dad told me how much you enjoyed lego.” It was a scene rather than a structure but Jack didn’t mind, he turned the box around to show Aaron the figures he got in the set. He was impressed. You felt the christmas warmness spread through your heart at his happy face.

“You have to open the next one at the same time as your dad-” you smiled and handed them both squishy presents.

“Okay ready dad… one… two….” they both ripped them open and Aaron burst out laughing when he noticed what it was. He held up the pyjama set, covered in little cartoon Darth Vaders and Jack held his up, covered in cartoon Lukes. They were both midnight blue, covered in other cartoons from the film - the ships, storm troopers, Chewy. It was a set of pants with a button up shirt.

“Do you get it?” you asked, sheepishly.

“Get it?” Jack asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Luke, I am your father,” Aaron said, in his best Darth Vader voice.

“Oooh!” Jack burst out laughing and you smiled too.

“You are so cute,” Aaron said, looking over at you. You blushed again, you weren’t used to this affection. “These are perfect.” he said again.

“Open your next ones, come on-” you ushered him, handing him the next gift. You loved the attention and affection but had no idea how to deal with it. Aaron smiled and opened his present whilst Jack opened his last too. You got Jack a math’s stationary set with all the correct scientific equipment as Aaron had told you he’d been super interested in physics and mathematics and he was overjoyed. You got Aaron a watch, with the face of a picture of him and Jack after his triathlon. The face was slightly opaque so unless you looked at the right angle, you couldn’t see it. He smiled widely, admiring it before pulling up his shirt sleeve and putting it on. You watched in awe at how lucky you’d got.

“Come on Dad! Let’s go get changed!” Jack announced, jumping up. He grabbed his pjs and grabbed his dad’s hand. You laughed, not expecting to see the fashion show so soon but you didn’t dare argue.

A few minutes later, Jack emerged from his room with his pajamas on. They were a little big so you called him over to help roll up the sleeves.

“These are so awesome,” he said, staring at the patterns.

“I’m glad you love them. If you want, I can take them and properly adjust them,” you told him.

“Like sew them up and things?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Yeah. If you want, unless you like them a little bigger. It’s up to you.”

“My mum used to adjust my clothes,” he said softly. You paused and looked at him. Aaron had told you what had happened to Hayley but you’d never heard either of them talk about her otherwise. Before you could say anything, Aaron came from his bedroom, wearing his too.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. A grown man, tall and scary looking sometimes looked so soft and bear-like in his star wars pjs - matching his son. You felt tears in your eyes. Jack turned and gasped loudly.

“Dad, you look so cool.”

“Thanks buddy! You look super cool too.”

You still hadn’t stopped staring at him. You watched the way Jack ran into his arms and wrapped himself around his torso. Aaron held onto him, bent over and kissed the top of his head and real tears fell down your cheeks. Your boyfriend looked up and saw them, he smiled softly. You fell even more in love with him.

“Let me get a picture,” you said, quickly wiping your tears and jumping up. You found your phone in your jacket pocket and Jack wrapped his arm around his dad’s back, turning into you. He had one hand with his thumb up and a big cheesy grin on his face. Aaron put a hand on Jack’s shoulder and copied his son’s hand gesture.

“Smile, Aaron,” you teased. Everytime there was a camera present, he seemed to lose his ability to smile.

“Dad!” Jack laughed, knowing it too. “Smile!” Aaron smiled wide, it reached his eyes and you melted once more as you took a few snapshots of your favourite boys.

You and Jack got to setting the table and Aaron went to finish up the last few bits of dinner.

“Y/N,” Jack said, sitting in his seat.

“Yeah buddy?”

“Will you be my new mum?”

You paused again. You looked at him and noticed him looking at the picture frame on the mantel. It was a beautiful picture, of Jack, Aaron and Hayley. You loved it.

“No buddy,” you said. You sat beside him, at your designated seat and he sighed. “I’ll never replace you mum. Never be your new mum. But I’ll love you and I’ll love your dad.”

“I don’t want you to adjust my pajamas,” he said after a few seconds. “That’s my mum’s job.

“That’s okay,” you replied and took hold of his hand. “You’ll grow into them anyways.”

“Okay! We have chicken, turkey, brussel sprouts, roast potatoes, yorkshire puddings, pigs in blankets, mixed vegetables and beef gravy!” Aaron said proudly. You smiled and looked at the extravagant spread.

“We’re going to eat all of this to ourselves?” you asked.

“Dad gives the left overs to the homeless shelters. We always go on boxing day,” Jack announced as he reached to help himself. Your eyes grew wide in shock and your heart exploded with love. You looked at Aaron and he blushed.

“Could you get any better?” you asked softly, almost talking to yourself.

“Any meat, m’lady?” He said, keeping his eyes down and presenting the plate of chicken.

Later that night, you sat in front of the fire with your feet up and hot chocolate in your hand. You had a film ready to play on the large TV and a bundle of blankets around you. You could hear Aaron putting Jack to bed and you smiled contently. This had been the best christmas you had had in the longest time and your boys had made it so special.

It wasn’t long before Aaron joined you on the sofa. He sat beside you and you turned to look at him. You admired the shadow forming on his chin and his slightly tired eyes from the long day.

“You look so beautiful in the fire light,” he said. You blushed and lowered your eyes. “And you look even more beautiful with pink cheeks.”

“Shush,” you giggled nervously and turned to the TV. He laughed a little and moved closer to you. He put the blanket over his legs and you realised he was still wearing the pjs. He wrapped an arm around your waist and cuddled in to you. You felt the butterflies in your stomach but let you head curl in the crease of his neck. He planted a gentle kiss onto your head before resting his chin on it.

“Y/N,” he muttered after a few moments.

“Hm?” You replied, letting your eyes fall closed in the warmness of his embrace.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” You replied with no hesitation. You didn’t need to hesitate. You did love him.

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