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cashmoneyyysstuff · 6 months

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pure fluff, fem reader, not proofread, katsuki really likes the way you smell, talks of marriage, katsuki being an absolute demon, biting bc is it rlly a cash fic if it doesn’t involve katsuki biting us ? lemme know if i missed sum else <3

a.n.: ..so this came to me in the middle of the night and i had to write it down before i forgot about it…please do not perceive me🫶🏾

katsuki keeps sniffing at your wrist.

for some reason, he keeps bringing your palm towards his face and you imagined he’d kiss it if he was feeling a little sweeter than usual or he’d bite your finger if he was feeling like a little shit.

imagine your surprise when instead, he just sniffs you and goes right back to watching tv.

he does it for the fifth time in the span of a few seconds and you turn your head that was smooshed into his chest staring at the tv to stare at him with a brow raised.

“katsuki.” he only grunts in response, nose pressed to your pulse point. a deep, grumbled noise comes from the deepest part of his chest when you try to pull your arm out of his grip.

“quit squirmin’. ”

“katsuki !” you squeal, giggling. katsuki grunts into your skin, pulling your hand closer to his face.

“what’re you doing ?” you chirp.

“ya smell like somethin’” is all he offers you for a response, your lip pulls up in confusion. you tilt your head.

“like what ?”

“i dunno, s’like—” he cuts himself off, pulls your hand away from his face to stare up at the ceiling in thought, only to bring it back to his nose.

you can’t help laughing at his behavior “ like what ?” you urge.

“different.” he settles “this some new perfume or somethin’ ?” he asks seriously, lifting himself up so he can sit up against the couch cushion and you follow, no longer laying but sitting up in his lap.

“not really, it’s this new body wash i found at the mall !” katsuki grunts in acknowledgment “was walking around with a friend and she recommended it to me, so i figured i’d give it a shot.” you explain.

“smells good right ?” you ask excitedly. katsuki damn near growls at your wrist, then he drops it and stuffs his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you tightly like he’s trying to squeeze you to death, pulling you closer to him.

“so fuckin’ good.” he rumbles, the way his voice deepens has shivers going down your spine and has you impossibly giddy.

“what soap is that ? need ta stock up on it.”

you roll your eyes “so you can steal it from me ? no thank you.”

“m’ your boyfriend, you’re s’posed to share with me. what’s that saying? what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours ?” his voice is smushed against the fabric of your clothes because he can’t stay away from your skin for more than three seconds, going back for whiffs like an addict. you wrap your arms around him with a snort.

“isn’t that saying usually for married couples ? we’re not married.”

“yet.”

your heartbeat quickens and you feel your skin prickle and go hot at how casually he uttered the word. you play around with the hairs on his nape.

“..yet” you utter quietly. his nose is pressed against your addams apple, deeming it his new favorite spot to sniff at you like a dog. “so until then, my secret stays with me.”

“tch, stingy woman.” he scoffs “might have to marry you sooner than i thought.” he smirks.

you move to shove your head into his shoulder in embarrassment and he straight up laughs, the asshole. you’d be angry if you weren’t as in love with him as you were in this very moment.

“oi, i told you to quit squirming.” he jests.

“katsukiii !” you whine. he only chuckles, greatly enjoying the way he’s tormenting you.

“what ?” he snorts, his nose is pressed to your shoulder “don’t act brand new, you knew i was gonna marry you.”

“this is bullying.” he barks out a loud laugh at your flustered response.

“me puttin’ a ring on that fuckin—” he grabs your hand again and presses his lips to your ring finger “divine smellin’ finger of yours is bullying ?” he chuckles.

“you’re so weird.” you can’t help the smile that grows against his shoulder and he feels it too, the smirk against your finger only grows.

“right back atcha.” he snickers, then bites into your shoulder like he’s trying to take a chunk out of you.

“ouch ! katsuki !” you yelp, smacking his back lightly, all he does is snicker like the evil motherfucker he is.

“sorry, baby.” he apologizes but you can hear in the teasing lilt in his voice he regrets absolutely nothing “ ya smell so good i couldn’t help it.”

a.n. : i actually don’t know if that saying is usually for married couples but pls ignore it for plot sake thx 🤞🏽💓

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barbieaemond · 4 months

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And I dream of a grave

Header by the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs 💕💕

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: angst (!), smut, too many references to graves/burying, mentions of Blood & Cheese, miscommunication, Aemond's coping mechanism is violence and sex, in this order (good for him)

Word count: 3.8k

Author's note: the gif is self explanatory. This is a prequel to A Curse for a Curse, but can be read as a standalone. Big thank you to @irenadel for giving me the idea and being one of the most supportive souls <3

Taglist: @ladystarksneedle @arcielee @multyfangirl

MASTERLIST | English is not my first language

This is more than tempting the Gods. This is forsaking and impudently turning their backs on them.

As she sits down at the banquet, her mother’s words echo through her mind like the vexing sound of the wind on a storm’s night. It sets an unpleasant weight on her lungs, the close and yet shapeless feel of something dreadful. She’s almost grateful, looking around, to ascertain she’s not the only fool dreading this whole act.

The Dowager Queen sits at the table, barely able to contain a grimace. Queen Helaena, she is certain, has never looked so pale, her eyes so vacuous and yet so full of something unknown, elusive, smoke clouding and clearing her unnatural stare. The Hand has conveniently made himself absent. She can’t blame him. Actually, she envies him. If only she too could have been spared such a farce. But as the wife of the King’s brother, the very one they’re all supposed to celebrate tonight, she cannot do that, can she?

To cheers and the blaring of trumpets, the King enters shoulder to shoulder with his brother, tall and proud in his stride, wearing dark green velvet for such a special occasion, and such a special title.

“Do you know how they’re going to call you from now on?” the Queen Mother had asked when he came back from Storm’s end, dripping rain and mud and war.

“I do, Mother.” Aegon had answered, twisting a knife from his seat at the head of the table; she had never caught that glint of satisfaction in his eyes, not like that; it wasn’t dimmed by wine or flesh, but sharp as the blade in his hand. “A title he should be proud of.”

Pride was ever the easiest thing to wear for Aemond, the softest glove gliding on his skin, born out of a pit so deep and full of insecurities and negligence that that same endless depth had grown out of proportion in order to fill itself. To even try scratching his pride was like trying to climb the highest mountain with bare hands. She had cut her palms open to do so.

“What happened, Aemond?” she had asked once alone in their chambers.

“You know what happened.”

“What really happened?”

His good eye had pierced her as if she were made of crystal, but his jaw was too set, on the verge of breaking his own teeth if he carried on keeping the guilt, and truth, trapped inside.

“I didn’t want to.” He whispered, coming down from the peak, “I didn’t want to kill him. I only wanted—”

“Revenge? Well, you had it. Did it make you feel good? Did you bring that boy peace at last?”

It took him a lifetime to say no; a whispered sound, choked even, as if he had bitten off his tongue to get it out of that pit where he had never looked again.

He was biting his tongue in the council, the faintest clench in his jaw but here, here in the council, here in the world, he had to keep that pit buried and stand straight on the highest peak, looking up and up, never down, never back. How could he, how could he admit he had lost control. It was easier, safer, to let them think of him a monster, rather than just human.

“I salute you, brother.” The King had said, raising his cup “True blood of the dragon! We shall have a feast in your honor!" Otto had merely lowered his head in defiance, going unnoticed in the eyes of his King and grandson, drunk with power and finally free of his mother's leash, unaware that a golden noose now held him in check.

He had summoned jesters, musicians, even some dancers to coddle his brother, and raise him higher and higher. She imagined she just had to wait for the fall. Or perhaps pray to the Seven to overlook the insult, to keep a mortal up there with them for a little more. But then again, they shouldn’t ask the Gods for mercy. Someone more unforgiving, more bloodthirsty. Someone who, just as her husband and his brother and each one of their cursed dynasty, did not listen to either Gods or men.

“A toast!” the King says at one point, turning to his left. “To my brother Aemond and a long overdue justice, is it not?”

Out of courtesy and duty, she grabs her cup and raises it, but as everyone at the table sips their wine, all she tastes is contempt, and the cup hits the surface untouched. But not unseen.

“Brother, wine may cloud my judgment, but it seems to me that your beloved wife does not share the sentiment of this fine evening. I wonder why.”

She holds the King’s demanding stare with a firm one, aware of Aemond looking at her even if his eye is fixed on the table. He has ignored her for the whole night, not sparing her a single glance. Because she owns the truth, doesn’t she, and it’s a knife pointed at his back.

“May I speak my mind, your Grace?”

There’s the slightest shift in Alicent’s posture, as if she were desperately waiting for her, or anyone, to cease all of this, to say this isn’t right.

Aegon pulls a thin, lazy smile and tilts his silver head, swirling his cup. “Why, of course, Princess. My brother tells me you have a habit of doing so.”

“Did he, now?” she resists the urge to scoff; such a despicable habit for a woman in this world.

“Fret not, good sister, I’m certain he holds no grudges against you for your silver tongue.”

“Oh, I’m quite certain too, your Grace. I know for a fact that he likes it.”

A few lords can do very little to hold their snickering, Aegon himself does not hide his malicious smirk, petty at the edges. It must run in the blood.

“Careful though, you don’t want to spend too much time talking, lest you leave my poor brother without any heir! It’s been a while since you two lovebirds tied the knot, isn’t that right?”

She glances beside her, surely Aemond won’t let that slight insult pass, but he stays still and silent like a statue. She can’t quite believe what she’s witnessing. This is the same man who would call the crowned head at the table wastrel, depraved, disgrace.

So much for a disgrace, now that he fosters your pride and lies.

“I can assure you, good brother, that the talking is well outweighed by other activities that involve very few words.”

Aegon plasters a big grin on his face, yet she’s not finished. “But perhaps the Gods are sparing me the burden of bringing a child in such troubled times. A realm at war is not the best place to live in, is it not?”

“It depends on which side you’re on, Princess.”

There’s suspicion in his tone, but she just blinks at him. “My apologies, I was not aware that my loyalty to your House, and my husband’s, was to be questioned.”

“Come now. We are bound by what if not words?”

“I was under the impression that the Crown should fear his own kin more than a simple foreign girl from the West.”

At that, Helaena lets out a strange noise, something close to a wince, and silence falls all over. It is only now that Aemond undoes the stone he walled himself in and acts as he always does when he feels belittled, or worse, threatened. He shuts her out.

“I’m afraid my wife is growing tired, brother. ’Tis best for her to retire.”

She bites her tongue and turns her head. There’s no mistake in his tone, that is an order. She stares at him and he stares back, blankly, and then, just as it is expected of her, she obeys.

She goes without saying a word, aware of Aemond’s eye on her, of Aegon’s little victorious giggle. He snaps his fingers and two dancing girls flock to his brother. She knows this because she can’t resist but turning before disappearing. The girls are said to come from Lys, no less. But he’s not sparing them a single glance. His eye follows her out of the hall, and even after.

Candles almost extinguished, casting a soft glow in the bedchamber, dim but enough to make the shape of her body visible under the covers.

“I know you’re pretending to be asleep.” He says, placing his dagger and eyepatch on the nightstand.

She doesn’t bother to wait a single moment to fly her eyes open. “Was I not supposed to pretend I was tired?”

When she gets no answer, she turns to face him, finding him on his feet near the bed, undoing the buttons of his doublet. His eye is on her, though, wide, as someone ready to hunt but seeing traps everywhere.

“Did you enjoy your feast?” she asks with piqued interest. “Such a shame that I missed most of it. I was eager to watch the girls from Lys dance. How were they?”

“Enough. You should thank me for dismissing you. You were bordering on high treason.”

“Since when telling the truth is considered high treason?”

“Is that what you were going to say? The truth? To make me look like a fool in front of the whole court?”

“I was only going to say that the feast was an insult and a challenge to the Gods or any common sense. And I know that beneath all the pats on the shoulder and the endorsement on your brother’s part, you are of the same mind.” she hopes to see the barest glimpse of validation on his face, at least here, where he can leave behind his pride and admit he made a mistake. Is that what you call starting a war?

But his expression is as closed as ever, wary.

She wishes it would hurt less than it does. “Of all the people ready to betray you, how quick you are to assume I’d be the first.”

“We’re bound by words, are we not?”

“Take your brother off your mouth.” She says absentmindedly; she tries to not let it sting, but it does anyway. It is a low blow, and she knows he does not believe it. He has raised the walls, coiling like a snake, and there’s no point trying to climb and risk cracking her skull open on the ground. She will have to wait for him to come down. “Then perhaps I should consider my father’s proposal.”

She leaves the bed and grabs a letter lying open on the desk. “He wrote me this letter. That is why my mother came all the way here, apparently to see how her daughter was faring.”

Aemond eyes it with the barest twitch in his lips, then looks up into her eyes and, with a sigh, she clears her throat.

“My dearest daughter,

It is with great concern and sadness that I write you this letter.

Words have reached me about the recent events involving Storm’s End and young Prince Lucerys’ demise. My spirits are low when thinking of the fate you’re enduring. But I want you to think carefully of this: annulments are rare but possible. Even more so since you bore no heirs yet. You cannot remain married to a Kinslayer, it is the highest of sins. I only need a word from you, daughter, and I shall hastily consult with a High Septon.”

She can barely register his arm moving, only sees his hand snatching the letter out of her grip, crumpling the paper between his fingers. Nostrils flaring, eye widening, she reads insult all over his face. About time.

“Is that it, Aemond? Is that the reason you’d think I would betray you? Because I didn’t bleed on a birthing bed yet? Is that how you measure my loyalty? What of all the times I drew your bath, washed your hair, pulled the boots off your feet? What about that curtain—“ she adds, pointing to the windows “and the fact that I told the maid to keep that side always closed so the sun will not bother your eye? Do you think I did all of this because of some empty words?”

He looks as if she has just slapped him. Mistrust and bewilderment run together all over his sharp features, trying to win one another, and she waits and waits, and she begs as all the purest things must be pleaded, wordlessly.

Come down. Come down. Lay down with me. In our bed, a grave, it matters not. I'll take the shovel and do the burying.

But he stands still on his high and cursed perch, the grip on the letter loosens, his shoulders slump a little, because this, this comes so easily. Violence. It’s the other glove he wears like second skin.

“You will write to your father and tell him if I hear another word about annulments, I will have his head for treason. And as for you… you tell a living soul what you know, and you shall join the Silent Sisters. You won’t even have to vow your silence, for I shall take your sharp tongue first.”

She watches him go, standing in the middle of the room like a fool; her hands bleeding still and a plea, unheard, choking to death in her chest.

Her hands heal, stay whole for so long. She feels she cannot reach him this time, no matter how hard she tries to climb. She finds no footholds, no inlets, until she stops looking for any.

She finds she has no strength to do it anymore. They’re all dead anyway, each of them in their own way, their own burial.

The king drinks and rages and drinks and rages. Helaena rocks on herself all day long, chasing the highs and lows of her laments. Jaehaera stares at her mother with her small lips sewn, her eyes wide and the Queen Mother weeps and weeps, wondering if the little girl is watching her mother go mad with grief or yet again her twin brother’s head rolling on the ground like one of her toys.

And Aemond…she does not know where Aemond chose to bury himself. He spends the day out, trying to escape the smothering grip of the Stranger’s claws, his curse…or is it only retribution?

Sometimes he’s in the training yard, sometimes that same yard becomes theater for revenge. He kills whoever helped Blood and Cheese enter the Keep, man or woman, he doesn’t care. He tortures them, and she wants to beg him to stop, to tell him that torturing one, two, or one hundred men won’t stop guilt from torturing him.

So, he wanders restlessly, basks in small and big cruelties, until the sun sets and she’s aware, as the bed dips under his weight, that she is his own burial. He takes her at any time, in any place, be it the bed, the desk, or bent over the vanity, she cannot do anything to stop him. She doesn’t want to and yet she aches to do it. Because it’s always sudden, and harsh and hurtful when he pulls her hair, when he spares no time to stoke her desire, when he keeps her bent with her back turned and a firm hand on her neck like some kind of punishment.

It never used to be like this. It had been playful, teasing, painfully slow as if he were separating salt from water, and then fast, urgent, unraveling for two inexperienced newlyweds.

But it had never been like that. There was no joy in it. Only a duty to be fulfilled. Some twisted way to gain control, while anyone else kept slipping from his hands. Just as Vhagar slipped out of his control on that fateful night of storm.

He remembered that dark thrill pounding in his veins, the laughter gushing out of his throat like poison. He couldn’t bring himself to stop. He didn’t know whether Vhagar was fueling his fire or the other way around, perhaps both. Just a little more, he’d thought, as Arrax batted his wings frantically, desperate, mirroring his young rider, to escape the gaping jaws of the Queen of All Dragons.

That’s what he wanted. He wanted to relish in his nephew’s dread, he wanted to drink it. He wanted him alone, desperate, hopeless, just as he had been.

And then he felt it, the shift in the ancient fire pit he was riding, like a boat tipping over and there was no helm to grab onto and bring it back to land. He had sunk his own family into the bleak abyss of Daemon Targaryen’s soul.

He had come to collect, thoroughly. A son for a son, yes, but he had taken much more than Jaehaerys. He’d taken Helaena as well. Even Jaehaera.

Will she ever be able to speak again?

Will my Mother ever forgive me?

Words never spoken, stuck on his tongue and then gagged and swallowed. He cannot look down, cannot look back. He must look up and forward, like soldiers do. To the next battle, to war.

But there’s this woman. And the sight of her in his bed that makes his breath hitch and for two reasons entirely opposite to one another. The first is the most ancient one. But she’s also a thorn in his side, for she knows. She knows everything. She knows all his peaks and depths, every brick in his walls and how to dismantle them; she knows he’s strong and weak, that he’s scared and guilty and worthy of his mother’s contempt, but he cannot bear any of this in front of her.

He flees her presence during the day, only to impose himself on her for the whole night. She cannot refuse him. And he cannot have her prying and dismantling his well-crafted walls and lies, so he takes her and takes her and takes her until he works themselves up to exhaustion and she’s a rag doll in his hands. It serves the purpose, though. As long as she has his cock in her mouth, as long as he harshly pounds into her, cutting her breath from the inside, she cannot ask questions. As long as he keeps chasing his pleasure, and his rugged breaths muffle his own ears, he cannot think straight.

He's close now and it’s the second time already. The sheets are damp beneath their bodies, his back glints with sweat, damps his forehead as he thrusts inside her one more time. They’re lying on their side, but he keeps her caged against him, his arm has slipped on the mattress and under her neck to keep her still, with her back to him. With his cheek glued to hers, he croons praises in her ear, falling mindlessly from his lips but like drops in the ocean. Once, she would redden, smile blissfully, or challenge him, to go deeper, or harder, or both, but she’s a limp thing now. A mere body panting upon being fucked by another, that’s all.

This is possession. Or a desperate attempt to. Each night, he holds her as if it’s the last time and she could slip away from him at any moment, turning her back on him. She can feel it now, in the way he’s gripping her shoulder, the way his nails dig in her skin, carving into her bones: stay with me. Please. Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave.

But it’s him keeping her away, turning her own back on him.

Don’t you know, she wishes to tell him, that I won’t, ever. I won’t. No matter how cursed you are. I won’t. I won’t.

He grabs her thigh, resting it on his hip, spreading his long fingers on her skin, spreading her legs so he can find the perfect angle and picks up the pace. She shudders with every thrust, gasping with her throat dry, feeling the long bridge of his nose sinking in her cheek, his grunts growing rougher and deeper; some strange choked sound at the back of his throat.

He comes quietly, panting shallowly against the damp fabric of her nightgown. And he stays there, claw gripping her shoulder, head sunk between her neck and collarbone, and deep to the hilt buried in her.

A tear rolls down her cheek. She doesn’t know where it comes from, who she is mourning, she can’t tell these days. Perhaps she’s mourning him, who he was, who he is now and who he is forcing himself to be. She doesn’t know where the deception lies anymore. She wishes she could push it back in, prays that it goes unnoticed, swallowed along with all the others, but she should know by now, the Gods are not in her favor anymore, if they ever had been.

“Why are you crying?”

She turns her head, and her breath hitches. The gemstone glints, yes, but she’s too struck by his eye to even notice the sapphire. There’s something raw there, bare, more than his very skin now. It’s the first time she sees that look on him, torn, heavy lidded and not by pleasure.

This is the burden of grief.

She wonders if that’s the reason he’s so keen on fucking her with her back turned, so she can’t see him. Perhaps she didn’t look hard enough. She thought he had risen too high, out of her reach, of anyone’s. She thought he would never fall, not in every sense of the word.

Hence, she’s at a loss for words, slightly pulling herself up, when he slowly comes down; he curls into himself, into her lap, resting his head there like a child. No Kinslayer, no Dragon Prince, no son, no brother. No husband. Just a human, bare in the skin and soul.

Aemond wraps his hand around her knee, gently, and then tighter and tighter, shutting his eye. He’s on land now, but the room is spinning, the whole world is spinning and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He feels he started it all, he threw a spinning top and got sucked into it. And she’s the only firm thing he can hold onto.

“Do you think I’m cursed?” he whispers, the barest flutter of his long eyelashes against his cheekbone.

But she has no answer. All she has are her hands, sliding on his naked skin, through his loose hair, gently, as if touching the thinnest glass, sealing the cracks. Her palms slice open again.

“Aren’t we all?”

And I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more."

- The Castle, Franz Kafka.

2K notes · View notes

ham1lton · 3 months

Text

DREAM GIRL.

pairings: jude bellingham x reader.

faceclaim: maya jama <3

summary: being the personal assistant of sir lewis hamilton has been the highlight of your career so far, even when he has you fetching organic vegan dog food for roscoe at six in the morning. but that was expected, what wasn’t expected was a certain english footballer taking an interest in you.

author’s note: shout out to my jude girlies! this one is for u! it’s also technically the 29th where i am, so happy twenty first to jude! now part of a series.

— wanna be tagged in any future works? fill out my taglist!

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

liked by landonorris, yourbestie and 78,928 others.

yourusername: days lately 💐

view all 10,739 comments

user1: THE LEWIS PIC 😭😭

lewishamilton: you’re fired.

-> yourusername: this is the ninth time you’ve fired me this week.

-> landonorris: i’ll hire you y/n.

-> lewishamilton: shut up norris. don’t steal my assistant.

-> yourusername: I’VE BEEN REHIRED AGAIN WOOOOOO!

user2: why is yn the most entertaining f1 related person.

user3: guys, who is she??? she’s stunning!

-> user4: yn yln! she’s lewis’ assistant and practically family at this point. she’s been with him since she was 18. she just had her 24th birthday so they’ve worked together for almost 6 years! she’s so funny and if you’re a fan of lewis, you should definitely follow her!

charles_leclerc: roscoe and leo playdate when?

-> yourusername: roscoe is booked up for the unforeseeable future i apologise.

-> alexandrasaintmleux: oh no 😢

-> yourusername: suddenly he has an opening!!!! just for alex.

-> alexandrasaintmleux: yay! i’ll message you 😊💐

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liked by lewishamilton, judebellingham and 233,938 others.

yourusername: btw if you catch your girl smiling at her phone it’s probably something i posted. your girl thinks i’m hilarious and loves me more than you 🤷🏾‍♀️

view all 27,127 comments

carmenmmundt: caption is true!

-> yourusername: kissing you virtually <3

user1: i love yn sm.

-> user2: did u see her vlog for the lv event?? she feeds us sm. shirtless lewis in the beginning, jude bellingham in the background of the event and her posing with central cee at the end. she’s collecting british boys like she’s getting paid for it.

user3: marry me yn!!!!

lilymhe: roscoe is judging tf out of you 😭

-> yourusername: he hates to see me shine 😔

user4: YOU LOOK SO GOOD IM FROTHING

user5: why is jude in the likes omggg???

roscoelovescoco: you’s my favourite’s 🐶

-> yourusername: love u sm my baby 😢

user8: is it truly a yn post without a roscoe pic?

*liked by yourusername.*

user6: all the wags love yn. i need wag!yn expeditiously.

user7: can you even post this?? won’t you get fired?

-> yourusername: idk. take it up w/ my boss lewishamilton.

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START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (5K WATCHING)

YN: hi guys!! how are we all doing? you okay?

user1: YN I LOVE YOU!!

user2: im good!

user3: where are you?

YN: i’m currently in madrid right now for a event that lewis is involved in. i love madrid. much different to drizzly england.

user4: omg perfect timing.

user5: your bf is in madrid rn.

user6: god aligned your chakras 😍

YN: my bf???? guys i don’t have a boyfriend.

user7: you do now. boyfriend distribution system has done its job and he’s hot! and rich! and successful!

user8: lmfaooo ur face 😭

YN: who are you guys talking about. i promise you, i am single.

user9: jude bellingham posted a tweet asking if he could get more screentime in your next vlog 😭

user10: girl he wants you bad 😭

user11: and we don’t blame him!

YN: jude bellingham? the football player? isn’t he like twelve.

user12: he’s 21 girl 😭

user13: cancers rise !! ♋️

YN: i don’t date younger than me! he’s a baby!

user14: you are freshly 24 😭

user15: dw you are not kelly piquet girl 😭

user16: you should date him!!

landonorris: hi 😃👋🏼

YN: hi future boss dude

landonorris: i think you should date jude as well.

YN: et tu, brute?

END INSTAGRAM LIVE. (12K WATCHING)

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liked by trentarnold66, roscoelovescoco and 1,288,567 others.

yourusername: roscoe took me to the airport and we both sobbed and cried when i had to leave. i could barely enjoy looking at shirtless jude 😔

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judebellingham: it’s okay. you’ll have plenty more chances to see it again.

user1: caption so real 😔

user2: how’s your holiday going?

-> yourusername: great! but i genuinely crave a roast dinner so bad. roast dinner with all the trimmings please and thanks 🙏🏾

user3: i thought you were lewis’ assistant 😭 why are you chilling with jude?

-> yourusername: i am lewis’ assistant but thanks to labour laws, i am entitled to holiday leave. i am on holiday right now.

-> lilymhe: without me? 😔

-> yourusername: sorry babe 😔😔

trentarnold66: thank god. jude wouldn’t shut up about you. so glad you’re together.

-> judebellingham: i’m praying on your downfall. hope your account gets blocked 🙏🏾

landonorris: you’re just on holiday? was hoping you’d been fired so i can hire you 😒

-> yourusername: i only work for world champions. nicorosberg, you hiring?

-> user4: MESSY ASS 😭

-> user5: yn could singlehandedly repair brocedes.

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— taglist: @23victoria @maxlarens @m1892 @stinkyjax @yelenasloverrrrr @tsireyasgf @landososcar @ourlifeforchaos @itseightbeats @xylinasdiary @chelle1306 @velentine @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @f1kenzzz @lavisenri @namgification @hiireadstuff @theblueblub @lifeless-firefly @ctrlyomomma @evie-119 @starz4me1 (found yourself tagged in something you’d rather not be? refill the taglist with what you would rather be tagged in and leave a note at the bottom for me to delete your old form! if you’d like to be removed all together then send me an ask!)

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#jayde’s works ☆#dream girl universe シ #football x reader #jude bellingham smau #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x black reader #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham fanfic #football x you #jude bellingham fic #f1 x reader

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p0ckykiss · 4 months

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madly in love - mark lee

summary -> mark had always been the hopeless romantic type

a/n -> from my old account again trying to clear out drafts

“I think I’m genuinely, wholeheartedly obsessed with you.”

one beat. two. the words hung dry in the air for several seconds, fervently waiting for you to unhook and catch them, but you remained still.

mark did too. he seemed transfixed on the traffic below, his eyes cast on the hundreds of tiny blue and red lights that rhythmically flowed through your city like blood pumping through veins.

as the silence grew louder, your skin became warmer. you wished you could read his thoughts.

plucking out a strand of grass that stood between your crossed legs and above the rest, you spoke, “sounds clinical.”

“It is.” he was quick, as if he had been waiting with baited breath. you could hear his smile so vividly.

a breeze blew.

“Is it deadly?” there was humor in your voice, but that gasping laugh of his you were accustomed to did not follow.

mark’s shoulders only twitched. “maybe.”

another breeze.

when the quiet settled once more, you stretched your legs out before the steep hill you sat on and laid on the turf behind. It was only then that mark finally turned to look at you, as if he was seeking permission to do so, waiting for the standstill between the two of you to end.

you did not expect to see the sincerity that resided in his eyes.

with an inhale, your eyelids slowly closed shut, ears perked to every whistle of the wind and every honk of a distant car. “I’ll find a cure then.”

the sound of rustling could be heard until a familiar warmth nestled itself beside you. he teasingly tapped the tip of his shoe to yours, but to you it seemed more like a plea.

“no.” the slight tremor to his voice made it hard to breath. “I happen to really like having this particular obsession.” he was whispering, cool breath brushing tenderly over the curve of your ear, like sweet caresses.

cautiously, you swallowed. “even if it kills you?” It was hardly even a murmur.

mark was nodding. “even if it kills me.”

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mikichko · 5 months

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just waking up delirious from a nap but cant get rid of the idea of price being interrogated by your friends.

night after your housewarming party, he steps out of your room bare chested and sweatpants low on his hips and finds your friends waiting for him.

they’ve never seen or heard of this man before. you only introduced him last night as john. the only indication of anything between the two of you was a constant point of contact between you two all night.

the questions start right away. name, age, occupation, how you met, what his intentions are. it’s all very entertaining to him, being on the other side of an incredibly juvenile interrogation attempt.

he takes it in stride though, not faltering for a moment as he starts to make himself a cup of coffee. price. ignores the age question, honestly kids these days lack decency and decorum. government worker. met at a bar. just trying to be a good man.

they don’t miss the way he doesn’t fumble through your kitchen. instead, moving through it with precision, knowing where every single item is.

and then finally, “what are you to them?” asked by the one in the back with curls, broad shoulders, and anger in his eyes that warms price all throughout. he doesn’t know he’s already lost.

he takes a sip of his coffee, mulling over the question and the last few months. shared drinks in the dark corner of an already shady pub. carrying your groceries in after you nearly tripped over yourself walking out of the store. books traded back and forth on park benches adorning a pond. stories repeated over a hot plate of dinner, the warmth softening john just a little more. your nails digging into his shoulders, legs wrapped around him, his mouth peppering kisses against your neck and mouthing words he can’t say out loud just yet.

he smiles against the rim of the cup, taking another swig.

“i’m, their caretaker.”

part 2 ?

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pumpkinbxtch · 5 months

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Hi!!! Could you please do aftercare headcannons for Percy??

๑percy jackson | aftercare headcanons

☆ radiostar is playin': dancin' in the dark by bruce springsteen... !

warnings: allusions to sex, language a/n: of course, here you go!

As soon as you finish, Percy puts all his self-control avoiding pressing his naked body against yours again and giving you neck kisses.

Because he's so passional, he loves having you close even after hours of kissing, touching, and handling you so well as those ocean waves he loves to surf.

So he rolls over and stares at the ceiling of his room, trying to calm down but still takes your hand to let you know he's there with you and won't leave you alone.

Gods, because he's such a sweetheart.

He looks to the side and admires your skin covered in a thin layer of sweat, the flush on your face makes him want to affectionately attack you, then he curses inwardly again.

He doesn't want to overwhelm you.

A true loverboy, fr

When he finally decides to sit on his bed, he watches you and approaches gently. "everything okay, angel?" And you look at him blushing, hiding in his sheets with a cheeky smile that he can barely see.

"Look, there she is," and he smiles at you in that way that would make you fall back into his arms.

He brushes your hair away from your face and combs it back gently, while praising you. "Good girl" "You did so well" and when he finally sees that you're better, he holds you in his arms for a few moments.

He stays like that while asking you what you want to do, giving you options: eat, shower, more kisses? (he could kiss you all the time).

He moves you to the bathroom and lets you shower, he'll probably be outside doing something for you to eat and change the sheets (because they're soaked, yk, yk)

You come out and leave him to clean up, then you go to the room and put on one of his oversized t-shirts.

You make the bed better (because your silly bf left it half made).

He watches you from the frame of his door until you see him and he approaches to hug you and give you a kiss on the forehead, even with his wet hair dripping onto yours that's barely starting to dry.

The rest of the time, you eat in bed and watch TV.

So fuckin cozy.

He's totally happy when you finally hug him tight while watching a movie because he can finally hug you, kiss you, and caress you fervently again.

He loves you, he can't be away from you.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #pjo x reader #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fluff #percy pjo #percy jackson #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #pjo #pjo x you #percy jackson smut

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vanesycho · 25 days

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this man will cause my death one day..anyway

Warning:Tit sucking, cock sucking,smut without a plot.

wc:0,9k

You were watching your boyfriend while he was talking to his friends, no you were watching him but your eyes were definitely not on his face, they were on his chest which was clearly visible because of his white sleeveless t-shirt. You knew he had been working out lately but he had said he wouldn’t show it to you until he had fully developed himself, and god...You love him with everyway but the way his body was… It was just making you imagine unpleasant things.

Jaemin continued to listen to Chenle as he spoke, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, you licked your lips, this guy was going to drive you crazy.

“This is off topic but Jaemin hyung’s chest is really nice.” When Chenle brought one hand up and patted Jaemin's chest, Jaemin threw his head back and laughed at Chenle’s sudden compliment, biting his lower lip and glancing at you for a moment, he knew you were watching him the whole time and oh how he liked it.

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When it was late at night, everyone decided to disperse to their homes, Jaemin said goodbye to everyone and closed the door and came to you. He sat down and put one hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. "What do you want to do, baby?" he said, you had a hard time not saying what was on your mind.

"I don't know...What do you have in mind?" he hummed, thinking for a while. "Oh, I definitely have something in mind, and you know it very well." you turned your head to look at him, he grinned, leaned in and kissed the back of your ear, sucking on your earlobe, you held your breath for a moment when he bit it. He soon whispered. "Come on baby, you know what you want to do, stop going against your desires."

You closed your lips on his without saying anything, Jaemin hadn't expected this, laughed in between the kiss and immediately returned it. Grabbed your waist and pulled you to him, making you sit comfortably on his lap. It didn’t take long for him to insert his tongue into your mouth, his hands starting to caress your entire body in slow movements, from top to bottom, as if he were exploring your body. He squeezed your hips and made sure you were seated comfortably on his cock, a moan escaped your mouth, you pulled back and looked at Jaemin.

He quickly took off his shirt and you examined his chest for a while, swallowed hard, he laughed at that. "Are you going to make me wait or...?" You grinned, biting your lower lip, moving closer and starting to place small kisses on his breasts. You stuck your tongue out, feeling him take a deep breath as you started to give small tongue strokes to his nipple, sucking, biting and starting to leave countless hickeys.

Jaemin held your head with one hand, caressing your hair, watching how you sucked his breasts hungrily, you could feel his cock getting harder and harder underneath you. "My little baby is hungry for her boyfriend's breasts huh? How long have you been thinking about this?" You lowered your kisses without waiting, got off his lap and sat on the floor, looking up at him. You placed your hand on his swollen cock and started to stroke it.

"Please..." who was he to refuse when you were looking at him with such beautiful eyes and begging? He took off his extra clothes without making you wait too long. You held his cock in one hand, fuck, just looking at this was enough to make your mouth water. Jaemin gently placed his hand behind your head again and tied your hair back. You leaned down and licked the tip first, with the hand you held you started to jerk him off with slow movements, even though you couldn’t take it all in your mouth, you took as much of it as you could and sucked it.

"F-fuck..don't fucking tease me." He stopped being gentle, moved your head towards his cock and made you take it all in your mouth, his thick cock was enough to fill your entire mouth. Jaemin threw his head back where he was sitting, moaning under his breaths. He started moving your head back and forth as he wanted, tilting his head and looking at you, couldn't help but think how good you looked with his cock filling your entire mouth. "Ah..Just looking at this gonna make me cum."

You held him with your hand and continued to suck him, your tongue licking his cock from top to bottom while your saliva started to flow from the corner of your mouth. You moaned in pain and pleasure, it felt like a vibrator to him and he let out a loud moan "Y/n- fuck fuck, you're gonna fucking make me cum." You didn't stop your movements, the deep, harsh breaths and moans filled the room and your ear "I'm gonna cum, I'm so c-close, don't stop, don't stop..god.. you're gonna drive me crazy."

You could tell he was getting close as his pre-cum slowly came into your mouth, Jaemin closed his eyes in pleasure, with one last deep groan he came into your mouth, you pulled back and let some of his juices hit your face. He looked down at you and gave you a tired grin. “Fuck you were too good baby, and you deserve a reward."

#nct imagines #nct dream reactions #nct reactions #nct dream imagines #nct dream #nct dream smut #jaemin imagines #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin #jaemin smut #jaemin #nct smut #jaemin x y/n #jaemin x you

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