#I came so close to turning his bed into a fish again...
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Just watched train to busan and all of us are dead, so logically I gotta blurb about zombies.
Word count: just under 4k
MDNI 18+ Cw: Zombies, loss of self, description of wounds, sex while/after turning
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It's loud and chaotic, you've long stopped trying to make sense of the sounds around you. The endless shattering and breaking of glass stopped meaning anything hours ago. The screams being torn from people have started to fade, getting replaced by animalistic growls and ragged groans filling the air.
Footsteps still run, but they seemed slower now. Heavier. Less coordinated.
The air stank rotten, thick, choking. It clung to your lungs in the worst way. You're hoping you'll get used to it soon.
The apartment— not yours, just where you and John had found refuge— still feels oddly cozy. At least thats what you tell yourself. Dim lights, curtains drawn. You had turned on a radio when you came, tuning in to some station without news, somehow trying to focus on the familiar 80s hits. Let you pretend it was all normal, this would pass and you'd go back to listening to them with John in his old truck.
John...
Who had silently pushed your hand away when you tried to clean the bite on his arm. Who looked at you with that solemn calm while you looked at him with desperation and hope. Clinging to the idea that maybe this was fixable. Maybe if you cleaned it well enough. Maybe if you cut the infected flesh away. Maybe, maybe, maybe...
Now he was lying tied to the bed, because you couldn’t damn him to the hard, uncomfortable floor. His soothing voice was almost gone, being replaced by something else. Rough, scratchy like fingernails on a blackboard.
You didn’t like it.
The words you adored, "Look a' me, love." Now made you cringe. Made your eyes sting with tears you didn't dare to shed. He wasn't lost yet. He was still there, you could see it, hear it.
But you stopped being able to smell it.
He didn’t smell like your husband anymore. The warm musk and woody cologne had turned fetid, sour, forcing your stomach turn when you got too close.
And it hurt. Because you didn’t want to imagine the rest of him leaving too.
So you didn’t.
You turned to look at him and forced yourself to see the good. To remember. To look past the putrid scent that stained the air and focus instead on who he had been. How he had fought bare handed to save you.
How even before everything went to shit, he was always there, pulling your chair back at restaurants, making you laugh until you had to wipe away tears.
The flowers he used to bring. The kisses. Every little present, every little touch that was normal.
You tried to smell them again, to feel the warmth of his body. Focus on anything but the way the light was starting to leave his deep blue eyes.
"You're still beautiful." It sounded so wrong. You knew it was him, but your mind was already trying to distance yourself from it. To go into denial about it all. "Oh, John."
"I'll always—" "No," you interrupted, almost choking on your own tears. You didn't want empty promises, you couldn't stand the idea of hope that'd leave you dreaming.
"I'm sorry," the way his throat croaked made you both flinch. It sounded so unnatural. "You don't... you shouldn't be. Don't be sorry, honey."
Whatever little parts were left of him shattered when you flinched at the way his body twitched.
Somewhere in the tangle of his mind, he knew that hurt. He couldn’t fully comprehend your emotions anymore, thinking was like forcing a fish to evolve and breathe air far too quickly. Painful. Wrong. Going against every instinct.
But he could still tell the emotions coming from you were bad. He just couldn’t name them anymore.
And that broke him. He used to know how to read you.
Years spent together had taught him how to handle you. How to read your moods. How to cheer you up even in your quiet kinds of sad. All of that was now slipping.
It wasn’t fair.
He could barely feel anything human now, but God, he yearned.
Silently he begged, pleaded to whatever holy being still watched over this rotten earth.
Even if he turned into one of those monsters, even if words refused to work, and his brain would start to melt in his head until his body gave up.
Please.
Let me remember my love.
"Darlin', don't," he warned. He didn't like the tentative steps you were taking torwards him. He was tied up, arms bound to the bed. And for once he was scared of his own strength. It had always worked in your favour before, but what if slipped now? What if he left, the monster took over and he'd hurt you. "Please."
You didn't listen. You came to kneel beside the bed. Laying a reassuring hand on John's thigh— now twitching violently, another part of his body leaving him. Your eyes landed on the bite again. Getting worse, the skin around the sunken in teeth marks now violently red, festering. Small blisters formed around the area, making his skin look taut, like it was gonna rip open and spill on you.
His veins swollen, far too visible under his tanned skin, and you could've sworn they were pulsing. Pulsing the rot through him...
"Let me try," the way he didn't answer made your stomach churn more than the rancid smell did. "Jonathan."
"Try?" Don't slip now, please. "To cut it away."
"My love..." You knew that was a no. A warning.
"Why are you just accepting this?!"
"Love..." "Don't! Answer me!"
"I love... I love you."
No. No, no, no! This couldn't be it. "John, please. Please stay with me. Okay? I'm here, focus, please. Okay, just— just think. Don't slip. Youre stronger than that, I swear. I've seen it. All the times you've come back to me. Everything you've went through, you cant just—"
He smiled. Oddly. Not like his usual smile, too much teeth, but you could tell he was trying. It made you want to vomit, bile rising in your throat as you imagined the mess his brain was turning into.
You crawled ontop of the bed, ontop of him. Straddling his hips, your palms coming down on his chest, trying to feel his heartbeat.
Maybe it was stupid. It was downright dangerous. But you couldn't help it, needed to feel him before he was gone completely cold. The heat was already slipping from him, his eyes twitching and blinking like he was in pain. "Please, John. I need you."
You couldn't even get an answer now. He was trying to talk, focusing all his strenght on getting the words past his throat. To fight against everything to show you he was still there. He always would be for you.
But to no avail. All he managed was groans and growls, babbles that made no sense. And it ripped your heart right out of your chest. There was no point in holding back. Tears spilled freely from your eyes and down your cheeks, drawing clean streaks through the dirt on your face. Sobs tore from your throat, attempted words turning into broken sounds. You tried to scream "Don’t you dare! Stay with me!"
As if love alone could bring him back. Or at least keep him from turning further. As if just hoping enough could undo it all.
Your fingers curled against his chest, digging into his shirt and holding on. Before pounding your fists against his chest, begging his heart to beat faster, for his body to warm up again and welcome you.
And he could do nothing
The tiny part of him that remained watched it all from a distance. A grim, third-person view, tied back unable to get involved. He couldn’t feel your hands anymore. Couldn’t speak, couldn’t move the way he wanted to.
He longed for any kind of comfort, to see any kind of recognition in your eyes. To speak the words "It will be okay." like he used to.
But the best he could do is fight back the violent instincts aching to break free. To stay still and not hurt you no matter how far gone he was.
Wishing his name would feel like his again. So it would sound like you were calling him, not a version of him, a ghost, that just slipped right past his fingers.
It took so long to exhaust yourself. To cry it out and curse him with every name under the sun.
You hadn't accepted the loss when you came down. You didn’t dare think once the tears stopped. Barely looked him. You just needed one more night.
So all you did was lay down. Rest on your head on his chest and curl up.
The usual comforting sound of air filling his lungs and his heart beating was now crackled. Every breath of air raspy and uncomfortable, his heart beating with no proper rhythm. And through the sheer exhaustion you were feeling you could will yourself to pretend it was normal.
That everything was just okay, you could close your eyes and rest peacefully.
You wondered if the creaking of the old wooden headboard was because he was trying to comfort you, rest a hand on your head like he always would, or if was because he wanted to tear you apart.
You chose to believe the former and imagine the weight of his arms around like every night before this.
And it worked well enough. Awakening some odd hours later.
Everything had just been a dream.
Right?
It had to be. Couldn't have really— the stench entered your nose before any other sense really woke up. Noisome, like it could burn your nose hairs straight off. No acquaintance to it, just offensive odor that made dread crawl up your spine. You didn't want to lift your head, wanted to stay buried in his chest and just never look at the outside world again.
Curiosity killed the cat.
He looked so much worse. His skin a whole new colour, grayish and pale. Gashes he didn't have before staining his clothes with dark red blood, blistering seemed to have popped up everywhere, filled with fluids you'd much rather stay ignorant of. Eyes clouded over and bloodshot all the same.
His muscles were spasming and twitching, his jaw hung open, and you could see how a part of his tongue was missing, bitten off by himself.
His wrist were a horror show, pieces of flesh seeping out beside the restrains digging into them. It was a miracle he hadn't broken them. You could see fucking bone peak out beneath the bloody mess that stained his entire forearms.
If he could feel that? You wondered. Imagining the kind of pain that would be.
Satisfaction wouldn't bring this one back.
Suddenly you wished your heart were cold. At least cold enough to not see him for who he was, to not feel this aching grief that screamed to consume you. You wanted nothing more than to forget, get up and walk away. Maybe just one apartment over to wait this out, to be alone and safe until rescue came.
But your heart was flaming hot and filled emotions from all ends of the spectrum. You don't think you could ever bring yourself to truly leave him.
Your heart was his. He was the one that took it and filled all the little cracks with his devotion, made sure to wrap it up in gentle cloth and always keep it out of harms way.
He was the one that spoke about how he'd rather die than hurt you, the man who had pushed through when your daughters eyes grew cloudy and red—just like his now. He had kept you afloat. And now he was the cause of the pure agony running through your veins.
You just wanted to cry again, to scream and pray he comes back. Just a little, just enough for you to tell him how grateful you are for everything he's done. And how much you hate him for leaving you on your own.
You felt it when you sat up, wiping the sleep from your puffy eyes, pressing into your lower back. You must've imagined it, there was no way.
You shouldn't have dared to imagine, much less turn around to look.
But who could blame you for doing it? And who could blame you for the rush of arousal that swept through you at the sight of the straining bulge in his ratty jeans.
"Honey?" Stupid hope. Your voice came out so raspy it was almost painful in your throat. You had to say it though, just incase he wasn't truly gone. "John?"
You didn't think you had any heart left to break, but the low growly clicking sound that escaped him just shattered you all over again.
What if he understood, though? Could it be that he was understanding but not able to talk? Hope would never leave you, would it?
The outside started to quiet down again as you sat there, waiting, thinking, body shaking under John's violent twitches.
It was silly, wasnt it? It wouldn't work. Still, you should try... right? It couldn't hurt to, you could be lucky.
An uncertain hand reached out to your husband's crotch, palming his shaft. Teary eyes flickered back to his sunken in face, praying for any kind of reaction to your touch.
You could’ve imagined it, yes. But you swore his eyebrows twisted, it wasnt really pleasure. But it was something, he could feel you. It made your touch bolder, firmly pressing against his cock, thumb finding the twitchy head and rubbing along it.
You were sick. Absolutely sick in the head for doing this. But you just had to.
"I'm so sorry, hun." This must be illegal, there's no chance this was in any way right. You kept telling yourself. And yet, you slipped down to straddle his thighs instead, putting your weight in them so they'd remain as still as possible. Easier said than done.
But with some effort you managed to rip off his belt and work the buttons open.
You hesitated to take them off however. Scared of what you'll see, of what would happen, scared you'd get infected too. Slowly you tugged the jeans down his thick thighs... they didn't seem too bad. Blisteres had formed, and the skin looked just as bad. But his upper body certainly looked worse — you could work with this.
You cringed when you exhaled. The smell rising to your nostrils. Christ, you'd been neglecting oral hygiene bad, huh? Not like it was a priority with—
Focus.
Taking another deep breath you finally dared to pull his underwear down too. Eyes pinched together so you wouldnt have to stare at a horrid mess straight up.
Fortunately that seemed like an exaggeration, it wasn't exactly what you were used to. But what was? There was no puss running down, or skin peeling off, and you took that as a win. Encouragement to go on.
Pulling all your own clothes off, to leave you bare and vulnerable. You needed to be. He was still tour husband, you had no right to hide. He always made you feel comfortable, secure, you were safe. You could be naked around him and nothing would happen. He promised.
You hadn't realised you'd just been staring at his cock until a particularly violent kick of his threw you onto the matress. A strange gurgle in his throat following. You thought it was an apology.
But you still curled up, making yourself small next to his trashing body and fighting back the pained whimpers.
You should kill him, you couldn't dare imagine the pain he was feeling, if any. But it had to be unbearable. You should show mercy. And maybe, just maybe you would've if you had any idea how to kill... these monsters.
Your nagging arousal crawled up beside you, urged to you touch him. It'd make it all better for him. What a stupid delusion.
But again, trying never hurt. You stayed curled up but your arm reached back out, grimy fingers wrapping around his cock. Slimy, you discovered. The pre-cum driping from his angry tip anything but natural or healthy. But his twitching stilled for just a moment, and that relief gave you enough assurance to go on. To slowly pump your hand up and down, watching silenty how he reacted to it. Seizing body locking up when you swiped your palm across the tip. And then it almost seemed to relax when you went back to slower strokes.
Interesting.
"John?" There was that odd, raspy gurgle again. Like he was trying to talk but his throat was filled with a kind of fluid. He had responded to his name though.Thats what this was. It had to be. So he was still in there. It broke you as much as it gave you you hope. Clearly you had to up the game.
Hand staying firmly around his cock as you sat upright, didn't want to fight to stay on like a bullrider.
Your hands are digging into the flesh of his stomach as you sink down, hole fluttering around his girth. You cant hide in his shoulder, like you usually do, without his teeth getting too close, so you have to hide in your own. Mewling at the stretch like you do every fucking time. Just without any kind of praise or reassurance this time. Without any kind of warmth.
Its just you, your thoughts, and your husband's inhumane clicks and growls filling the space. But he's calm, twitchy, but not trashing, no seizing. Just muscles bulging beneath skin. Your fingers curl harder when you lift yourself up and down, and his skin gives away far too easily.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck. Suddenly your nails were embedded into the little pudge he'd grown over his hard muscle. Red, brownish blood seeping past the limbs. You almost throw up right then and there. Nothing about this was fucking normal! You were in a straight up nightmare.
But you didn't get up, being stuffed full again, being vulnerable again, it all was right. God, you needed it.
Simply repositioning your hands you looked away from the wounds you had caused him. Meeting his fogged up eyes instead, rolling your hips, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. And pray for any kind of response, aching to hear his voice speak to you. And even if it was some incomprehensible mumbling or curses, just anything that was remotely human, anything that was John. Something to give the ring on his finger meaning again.
That damn ring was just cruel. The way it simmered with the bright morning sun, catching your eye.
But with your husband out of his mind it didn’t mean anything anymore. It was just laughing in your face now, reminding you of what once was and would never be back.
Tears were gathering on your lashes again, the realisation that you could do nothing hitting you straight on the face.
So you just kept staring at him, awaiting his eyes to just switch. To turn into that pretty blue that had you squirming ever so often.
It never came. You kept riding him, grinding your hips down chasing pleasure, relief. But all that stared back were calm, misty eyes. Scarily calm.
It was different. You missed him slamming up in you, abusing that gummy spot inside for hours until you were a weeping mess. His calloused hands on your soft hips, guiding you up and down on his length. Pushing at your chest to keep you upright, propping up his feet so you could rest your back against his strong thighs while chasing release for the umpteenth time.
You missed his gravelly voice throwing all the praise your way. The “Atta girls”, the way he'd nose at your throat and mutter about how “You're the most beautiful woman ever, y'know that? My woman… a whole blessing.” The reassurance even if you showed no signs of anything wrong “You're okay, yeah. Doin’ so good. We're good."
You missed his fingers on your clit. All the times you'd protested about how “It's too much! Please, john. Ahh— fuck.. please ‘s too much.” Suddenly filled you with regret. Now you ached for “too much”. For the way he'd shush you when you whined around the fingers he pushed into your mouth. You wished his rough fingers were drawing gentle circles along your clit, crooning at your squirming and allowing you to cum.
Every “you can take it. Sweet girl, you can do this for me.” now your motivation to take this for him.
Your orgasm was overwhelming, emotionally. Sweeping over you like a wave and forcing the sobs out of your chest. Physically it was weak. Forcing your hips to slow, spasming around his cock, slick— that you couldn't identify as either yourself or his — gushing around him, forming a little ring around his base.
It meant nothing. You hated it, really.
And now, full of him, your stomach fluttering with a kind of homey feeling you let yourself consider, maybe this wouldn't be so bad.
Maybe you could stay like this forever.
Or well, however long zombies lived.
You wouldn’t leave now. You could work yourself into the delusion, build a life in this apartment. Survive on shitty canned food and whatever animal dared to stumble by. Pretend it was the dream.
A sweet domestic life.
Unfortunately, there was no real point in that. You’d succumb eventually.
If you got it over with now, maybe you wouldn’t have to feel the pain anymore.
At least you hoped.
Your hands trembled as they reached for the restraints, still etched into his flesh. A raw and crimson mess ruining the ropes. You gagged when your fingers brushed his cold flesh.
You had to look away for a second, hands shaking harder than ever.
The knots wouldn't come loose, so your fingers went to the knife strapped around his ankle.
Your sobbing left you uncoordinated, causing the knife to slip and accidentally cut into his flesh, worsening the already torn open wound. Leaving you choking up between gags and cries. Damn him for teaching you how to tie ropes this well.
He didn't seem to care, dead brain being of no use anymore.
It was confusing how you went from thinking he was there, to being sure he was gone. The way those shimmers of hope caught you left you a mess.
He was still once the ropes came free. And that was so much scarier than if he had went straight for your throat. He was staring, looked like he was contemplating.
“It's okay.” You weren't sure what was okay. Nothing felt okay. But the look in his eyes told you to reassure him, “just… It's okay, John.”
He nodded.
He nodded? What?
Your entire system just froze up. He was the one to move, to sit up with those damn clicking sounds. Keeping your naked form in his lap, as your chests pressed together. His arms wrapping around you. It felt wrong.
But you'd take it. Anything that made him John again, you were open for it, ready to take any crumb with your entire heart.
So open that when his head tilted and his teeth scratched the soft skin on your neck you didn't do anything.
Nor when his teeth sank into the muscle of your shoulder.
And even when he pulled away with torn off skin in his mouth, your shoulder screaming in pain, your body shuddering with the hot blood dripping down, you didn't fight.
That was the point of cutting him free, wasn't it?
You just let him dig back in, more eager than ever he bit into your raw flesh. Half a tongue trying to get your blood into his mouth, spreading dirty saliva along the wound.
Cradling his head, feeling the thick hair that still felt soft, you let him feast. The pain irrelevant for the closeness he was giving you.
Your breath hitched first. Your lungs stumbling over nothing in particular. You thought it was the pain, until the tips of your fingers started twitching. Your bone feeling like its gonna lock in place.
You swallowed thickly as things grew dull, the squelch of your flesh, ACDC playing in the other room, and the cracking of his bones turned muffled.
You couldn't think about the pain, your mind suddenly feeling like it was overheating, thoughts leaving like explosions. Little puffs forcing them to lock behind some wall you couldn't pass. You couldn't reach out to grab any of them, everything just dulled.
All warmth left, and your heart quieted its roaring fire.
But you didn't try to pull away. You let yourself slip into the abyss, calm in your husband's arms. The void seemed much less scarier with him around, and the last pure thought in your head was about him. About all the love you carried, and would continue to until this earth finally crumbled.
Oh love, maybe you should've switched to a radio station that played the news...
#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#cod x reader#cw monsterfucking#cw zombies#cod smut#cod mw2#call of duty#cod au#zombie apocalypse au#fem reader#john x reader#captain price x reader#john price#captain john price#price smut#john price x you#fuck tags#anyway i really wanted reader to go down the delusion path but i also didn’t want to make this too long#but like nghhh#food#brain spunk#THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD#Shhh#just take it
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Oscar Isaac
Moon Knight Blooper Reel
#oscar isaac#moon knight#moonknightedit#marc spector#steven grant#mcuedit#chrissie gifs#I came so close to turning his bed into a fish again...
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This never happened.
Synopsis: (y/n) and Daniel are two best friends on vacation with their friends group. But Daniel asks for a little ‘help’.
Warnings: 18+, minors do not interact please. Forced proximity, smut, unprotected sex, oral sex, touching, fem and male orgasm, breaking promises.
Note: this is all fiction. English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance if there are any errors. Thanks for the comments, keep them coming!

When you accepted to go away to the mountains with your friends for two weeks you knew your best friend Daniel would come too.
Because he never missed a chance to spend time in nature away from the mess of the city, you knew him like your own pockets. What you didn’t know was what you were going to get yourself into when you packed your bags and left home.
The first week you guys spent it hiking and riding bikes, gathering around campfires at night, grilling meat, fishing in lakes, baking sweets to eat at breakfast or going grocery shopping in little supermarkets miles and miles away from the spacious luxury cabin you were all staying at.
In the morning you would all meet in the great living room to plan the day ahead and at night you would all say your ‘goodnight’ and go to sleep in your respective bedrooms upstairs. You and Daniel were always a pair, sharing the bedroom since they were all two bedded and the four other girls didn’t have a boy best friend. So you were the only one sharing it with a man, but it didn’t bother you because it wasn’t the first time you and Daniel would sleep in the same room, it had already happened. It just never lasted two weeks like it did during this vacation.
You would go to the bathroom to shower in turns but you never bothered to cover up when you were in underwear since you thought Daniel only saw you as a friend.
Or as a sister.
But when the second week rolled in something shifted.
One afternoon he was laying on his bed with his camera in his hands rewatching the pictures he took after a long hiking morning. He was just waiting for you to clear the bathroom. You came out of it after your shower in a set of sports bra and thong saying “Your turn!”
He nodded without looking your way while you kneeled on the floor by your suitcase looking for clean lounge clothes. After a couple of seconds you heard the unmistakable click of the camera so you turned your head and you found him smiling behind his Sony, still keeping it up and clicking it again.
“Daniel?” You asked shocked.
“Nobody will see these I will just keep the memories to myself.” He smiled looking at the pictures he took.
“Of my ass up in the air?”
“Sounds like a great memory to me.” He chuckled.
“Shut up.” You said shaking your head and laughing. But you were flattered.
That night you were both already into bed when he stood up and came in your bed with his camera to show you some ‘sick pictures’ he had taken during the day.
“I wanna sleep..” you murmured.
“Come on it’s just a couple of pictures.”
He yapped as always showing you how he framed certain angles to make a flower look like it was the focus of the whole picture or how he tried to hide a discarded backpack at the bottom of a panoramic view. You nodded, your eyes half closed while your body would feel very aware of the muscles your best friend had. Because he saw you as a friend but you never went into your own thoughts to examine why you found him hot anyway. You just grew to accept it.
“Hey hey wait watch this.” He said when he saw your eyelids closed. You opened your eyes whining and he showed you a picture he took of you while you were looking at a tree, while underneath the covers he put his thigh on yours and you felt his dick against your hip. The picture looked very cute but that hard dick twitching really woke you up at that point.
“Daniel you’re.. hard?”
“Nah that’s just blood..”
“Yeah I know how a hard-on works!”
He just giggled and pulled away going back to his bed.
The next day was even worse, you were all out on a trip to some lake and stopped there to eat your packed lunch. You were sat on the grass and he was next to you laying on it, talking to the others, his fingers tracing patterns at your lower back, underneath your shirt. You arched your back at the touch and looked at him with a questioning look. He smiled with a deep stare and whispered “Sorry, I’m just in the mood for cuddles..” You obviously felt goosebumps but just smiled politely. But when you guys came back at the luxury cabin that evening you couldn’t fake not seeing what was happening anymore. Because when you entered the shared bedroom he sat on his bed with a shy look on his face and cleared his voice brushing his hands on his thighs.
“I need to talk to you about something, (y/n)..” he said while you took your backpack off your shoulders.
You looked at him.
“I’m fucking horny.” He simply said.
Your eyebrows shoot up and you laughed but then he smirked and you knew he was being serious.
“What has this to do with me?”
“Oh come on don’t play dumb.. I need to..”
“..Wank? You want me to leave you alone for a bit?” You asked blushing.
He laughed and shook his head grabbing your hand to pull you closer between his legs. He lightly caressed your thighs at their sides looking up at you with his doe eyes.
“I’m used to have sex every week.” He admitted a little red in the face but still smiling. “It’s a habit I guess.. And this vacation is too long, i tried a wank three times but it’s a very momentary relief. Sleeping with you is making things worse.”
“You want me to leave the bedroom? One of us could go sleep on the couch downst-“
He stood up keeping his hand on your waist and you felt all kind of things. He looked down at you.
“Can we do.. something?” He asked you in a husky voice.
“..something? define something Daniel.”
“Oh come on we’re adults.”
“We’re friends.” You correct him trying deep down to think of what could go wrong.
“Nobody will know, it’s just you and me in here, I just need a little help..”
You both laughed, you were shy, he was amused.
“I swear I’ll be gentle and if you don’t like it just say the word.” He winked and then his lips were at your neck, kissing it softly, trying to convince you. You hadn’t had sex in a while since your last boyfriend and thinking of being kissed by Daniel.. you never really went there before in fear of getting stuck after a man who saw you as a sister.
“Was that a nod?” He whispered in your ear.
“I’m loud.” You declared.
He looked at you in the eyes with a devilish smile. “It will be just little touches I promise, we won’t really have sex.”
“Okay.” You smiled biting your bottom lip.
And then he grabbed your chin in his hand and kissed you. And you didn’t even remember being kissed like that before. His tongue explored every part of your mouth, his stubble was rough on your peachy face but you liked it.
He walked you to the bathroom without detaching his mouth from yours, and he started stripping your clothes off.
He had a needy look on his face that made him look even more sexier than how he always was.
“This is fucking wrong..” you muttered to yourself in pleasure while he sucked on your nipple, squeezing your tits in his veiny hands.
“Shhh, this never happened.” He whispered in your ear and turning you in his hands. He pushed you gently in the shower kissing the back of your neck.
And then a minute later his fingers were on your clit and his dick was sliding between your thighs from behind, not entering, just creating the friction.
You started breathing heavy and he found it so hard to not just slam it in. But he didn’t. He made you come with a little touching first. You moaned softly and arched your back, he helped you bend over, hands on the glass. Then he came too sliding his dick between your asscheeks, groaning, telling you how beautiful you were, how thankful he was.
You thought that was it.
Oh but you were so wrong.
Because for the following three days he ate you up during the night in your bed shutting your mouth with his hand, your legs spread over his shoulders. He fingered you in the kitchen while you were making breakfast for the whole group early in the morning, you were shaking while flipping pancakes and he laughed and whispered “go on baby don’t get distracted”. He asked for a handjob in the car during your ride back from the supermarket and you did it, he groaned while driving, looking at the road while telling you how good you were. And you sucked him off during a stroll at the lake, when the others were ahead and he faked not feeling well enough to climb the hill behind: you were on your knees and he got his hands at the sides of your head, guiding you, making you swallow his hot cum.
But the line was really crossed on the last night of stay in the mountains.
It was late, your friends were long asleep, the little lamp on the nightstand on. And there you were, at the edge of his bed legs spread, your panties moved to the side, him standing between your thighs, sliding his dick between your bare pussy folds, brushing your clit with his hard lenght in the movement, your nightie rolled over your waist. You moaned quietly looking him in the eyes, the slick sound that filled the room so hot. His hands were at your hips, helping you moving while he kept staring at you like he was in another world.
“Fuck you’re so hot can I take a picture?” He whispered.
And you were so long gone for him that you nodded, you would have done anything for him.
“Promise no one wil see it.”
“I promise, I would never show anyone, on my life.”
He took the camera from the nightstand and took pictures of you, of his dick between your pussy lips, of his hand on your belly, and your legs at his sides. Then he threw the camera behind you on the mattress and grabbed your soft hips again.
He looked at you while you were arching your back. You could say he wanted to say something but kept holding back.
“What is it Daniel?” You moaned.
“I just.. fuck.” He said embarassed and breathy.
“Say it.”
“Can I just.. slide the tip in? Just the tip.” He swallowed, his chest all red.
“Like-“
He nodded fast. “Please, just the tip.”
You nodded, he nodded sighing.
And he fisted his dick coating the tip in your wetness, slowly sliding it in, his tip disappearing inside your warm walls.
“Daniel.” You moaned rolling your eyes back, your legs already shaking.
“Fuck, (y/n)!” And he found it hard to stop, he almost came when he instinctively pushed ahead and got it all inside by mistake, balls deep in.
You gasped and looked up at him panting, he looked down at you in terror. “Fuck I got carried away I just-“ he withdrew but you moaned louder.
It was the best feeling ever.
He moaned when he got out. Your legs were shaking with an impending orgasm.
“Fuck me, Daniel, please, just fuck me!” You begged. He slammed back him, groaning, his shoulders were shaking, his chest rising and falling fast. You whined in ecstasy, coming hard while he fucked you hard, fast and deep.
“Where do you want me to come?” He asked helpless, as if you were a drug he got addicted to.
“Inside, I’m on the pill.” You moaned loud, forgetting where you were.
“Shhhh!” He shouted, too loud to really be efftective.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He kept saying as his dick started spraying your insides white. He reached a vibrating orgasm and fell on you soon after.
And you both knew there were only two ways in which this could go starting from the day after.
So you both stayed quiet, panting, you stared at the ceiling, he stared at your suitcases.
One thing was sure: your friendship was over.
#daniel ricciardo#smut#f1 imagine#oneshot#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#lando norris#oscar piastri#max verstappen#charles leclerc
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His wife

pairing: Aemond х Tully!wife
warnings: 18+ smut, p in v, lactation kink, cream pie
word count: 1,7k
English is not my first language, sorry about mistakes
The rustling of ancient tome pages breaks the silence of the room, merging with the crackling of logs in the fireplace. Night has long since come into its own, but Aemond is in no hurry to go to sleep, studying chapter after chapter, practicing his High Valyrian. The dinner that the maid brought a few hours ago has already cooled and remained untouched.
A loud clap of thunder tears the prince from his thoughts and he belatedly realizes that it was the roar of Vhagar, hungry for flight. But even this noise did not prevent the Targaryen's sensitive hearing from catching something else. The door?
- I told you not to disturb me. - Without turning his head, Aemond returns to the book, bending even lower than before.
- Yes, I was told your words, but I thought that you would make an exception for me... Husband.
Your voice penetrates the prince's head like a sweet melody and he straightens up in his chair. Quiet footsteps are heard behind you, you came barefoot, probably just got out of bed, again not finding your husband nearby.
A light scent of cinnamon and lily fills the space around Aemond and he enjoys the elusive warmth that your presence gives him. His wife... His sweet wife, always so kind to him, always reasonable in public and burning with passion next to him. And only next to him.
- Will you allow me to stay here? - Aemond nods and you find yourself in the chair opposite, straightening out a large sleeping robe for your figure. The blue fabric was decorated with silver threads that formed silhouettes of large and small fish.
- The colors of your house suit you. - A white nightgown was visible from under the robe, the thin lace clung to your chest so seductively that the prince had to make an effort to look away.
- My home is now the Targaryen house. - You smile at each other. - Are you going to sleep tonight?
- It was in the plans. - Aemond shrugs and picks up another book.
- Sounds promising. - You roll your eyes and put your feet up on the chair, like a child. - We haven't been together for so long, since...
It's been half a year since your son was born, maternal cares have not left you, while Aemond was busy with state affairs and only occasionally saw you and your boy.
The maester recommended waiting with intimacy, you needed rest after a long and rather difficult birth. Every day, looking at yourself in the mirror, you could not help but regret your beauty, which now seemed to have faded.
You couldn't help but worry about your marriage: Aemond was so rarely around, and Aegon, on the contrary, hung around more than usual, throwing his barbed remarks at his brother.
- Do you still love me? - Aemond's violet eye immediately pierces you. - If you don't love me anymore, then just tell me not to expect what is not available to me.
Targaryen rises from his seat and kneels before you, clasping your small and cold palms in his large ones.
- No one will ever make me abandon you and you know it. I swore to love you and I love you, do you remember?
Even before the ceremony in the sept, Aemond swore to you, his bride, his love and fidelity. He himself chose you among all and never regretted his choice, it is unlikely that there was a more suitable woman.
- I remember, but...
- No "but", my love. - Aymond touches your hair, which falls in a thick cascade over your shoulders. - And I do not want to hear doubts.
You wanted to download something else, but the prince kisses you, as if deliberately cutting off the paths of retreat. You grab his beautiful face and kiss him back.
It was as if for the first time: Aymond kissed you with passion, pressing closer and closer, your lips seemed to tingle from the intensity of his closeness. His warm tongue slid into your mouth and any doubts in his words disappeared. He touched you as always, gently and lovingly.
You leaned back, the hard back of the chair did not allow you to fall, when Aymond, standing between your legs, opened the heavy robe. The nightgown, the object of his attention, hugged your tender body so beautifully, not hiding you from her husband's gaze. Aymond's gaze slides from the bottom up and immediately notices two wet spots on your chest, milk was still flowing.
- You are so beautiful... - Throwing your legs over his shoulders, Aemond rolls up your shirt to your waist and pulls you closer. - My beautiful, beloved wife.
A wet kiss to the epicenter of your arousal makes you shudder, you squeeze the wooden arms of the chair and slightly lift your hips. Aemond immediately grabs you under the buttocks and presses closer, burying his tongue in your swollen and needy clitoris.
Slowly, he runs two fingers along the wet folds and slightly stretches you, without stopping the movement of his tongue. You play with his blond hair and almost purr from the sensations, you did not hope for this in the morning.
- I will fill you again, dear wife. - Aemond moves his fingers faster, smirking at the squelching sound that your aching cunt makes. - If I could, I would stay inside you forever.
- Aymond, please... - His words spurred you on, your husband's praise always gave you confidence. - I...
- Cum for me, wife. - Aymond doesn't take his eyes off you, continuing to fuck you with his fingers and lazily swirl his tongue over you. - I'll catch you, my love...
Your eyes close on their own, as if a bucket of water had been poured over you: your breath caught, and your limbs were shackled by a sweet spasm. You involuntarily press yourself against your husband, not at all embarrassed by the fact that you are literally rubbing your wet, hot pussy against his face.
Aymond doesn't show any displeasure, he continues to caress you until you calm down in his arms. He doesn't miss the fact that your breasts continue to flow with milk and have almost completely wet your nightgown.
- You are amazing. - Aymond licks his lips and lifts himself up so that your faces are level, the fabric of his pants rubs against your still sensitive pussy and you gasp, pulling him closer. - My beloved. Mother of my child.
Aymond's hand slides along your thigh, feeling how you tremble, but you do not shy away from his hand, trustingly accepting the caress. Aymond cannot help but walk over his favorite places: your hair and shoulders, your plump and heavy with milk and desire breasts, your thin ankles.
- Please, husband, make me a mother again. - You move your hips, leaving wet spots on your spouse's clothes.
Aymond lowers his pants just enough to expose his already erect member. He is still kneeling in front of you and pulls you so that he can comfortably settle between your plush thighs.
You feel his heat, dripping onto Aemond's cock and taking it easily as he fills you in one smooth motion. It's so tight and hot inside that the prince freezes and closes his eyes, trying not to cum right then and there.
You whine and squirm beneath him, but Aemond doesn't move, watching you with a cheeky smirk. He always loved to see what desire did to his sweet, kind wife.
- Aemond, why are you... - You huff angrily, pushing your unruly hair out of your face. - Please, let me...
- You will have everything you want, my dear. In time... - Aemond runs a finger over your lips and you immediately grab him, sucking the finger into your mouth. - So needy...
- Kostilus... Kostilus, valzȳrys... - The words come out of your mouth surprisingly easily, you have long studied High Valyrian, wanting to communicate with your husband in the language of his ancestors.
You see the effect your words have on him: Aemond's healthy eye darkens even more, he licks his lips and falls to your breast, biting and kissing the tender flesh, still wet with milk.
His tongue collects the droplets and finds a hot, swollen nipple, absorbing the milk and easing the pain in you're full tits.
- Gods. - You pull your husband closer, running your fingers through his blond locks. - Aemond, please...
The prince pulls away from you and settles himself more comfortably, distributing his weight on his elbows. You grip his strong forearms and shift, taking him even deeper.
A rough growl escapes your husband's mouth, he catches a fast rhythm, filling you so perfectly that you were ready to cry with pleasure. A white ring gathered at the base of his cock, demonstrating your desire.
- My sweet wife. - The fact that Aemond could speak so smoothly amazed you. - My beautiful, sweet wife, the most beautiful woman in the world. Fuck!
Aemond penetrates especially deep and you close your eyes, feeling how he hits the right spot again and again, pushing you to the edge.
- Aemond, I... just a little more, kostilus... - Targaryen fucks you, the chair creaks under you and you fall over the edge when Aemond's thumb touches your clit.
- Yes, that's it, my girl, cum on my cock, show me how much you want me. - The grip on your hips tightens and you only accept what your husband gives you. Your pussy pulses along Targaryen's length, as if sucking all the seed out of him.
- I love you... - Your whisper does not go unnoticed, and Aemond cums, crushing your lips in a greedy kiss.
Sweat covers your body and your legs ache slightly from the awkward position, but the unique feeling of fullness and satisfaction overpowered all the inconveniences.
- Wait. - You stop your husband, not allowing him to leave your body. - Stay.
Aemond slowly softens inside you, feeling the fruits of your love flow out of you. Slipping out, he pushes his seed into you with his finger, catching your quiet sighs.
- Don't you dare think again that I don't love you. - Aemond grabs your chin and turns your face to him. - You are all I have and I will never, do you hear me, never betray you.
You wipe a drop of milk from your husband's chin and smile tenderly at him, accepting Aemond into your arms.
- And I love you, my dragon. - The warmth of this closeness calmed your heart, which had been gripped by fear for the past few months.
#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#ewan mitchell#house of the dragon imagine#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen smut#imagine#smut#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#hotd#aemond fanfic#aemond targaryen x you#aemond smut
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Sub!Choso♡

MDNI
pairing: Choso x gn!Reader Content: no use of y/n or pronouns, beginning is some reassurance to Choso, no intercourse, sub!Choso, softdom!reader, light teasing, guided masturbation, overstimulation, praising, use of sweet boy, good boy, and hon, reach around hand job in the mirror, multiple orgasms; all just Choso..... Word count: 3.7k (a.n) ...... is this a safe place to post this? I started writing this thinking it was gonna be short- I was wrong. I got a lil carried away. Wrote this while listening to 'Take Me to Church- Hozier'
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
Dating Choso came easy. He was nice, he was strong, caring. You always saw the tough side of him. He never had anything to complain about when it came to your relationship.
Always ready to hear your opinions and thoughts. And when you'd ask him what he think when it came to certain things he'd always reply with, “If it makes you happy, I'm happy.” never wanting to say something that might hurt you.
Always so eager to shut down your harsh words towards yourself whenever a certain shirt didn't fit the way you wanted to. And you’d compliment him, saying things like how handsome he was, how good he looked, or when he'd help you carry the cases of water, never hesitating to kiss his bicep and tell him how strong he was.
And everytime he would return a shy, “Thank you.” turning away from you, knowing how red his cheeks got anytime you'd praise him. So when he asked you;
“Do you like me?” One tired night after coming home from work, it took you by surprise.
“What do you mean?” You asked, looking at him through the mirror in the corner of your shared bedroom.
“Do you like me? Like that?” he asked, hands between his knees. His eyes on your face in the shape of saucers, sitting on the corner of the bed.
“Of course I do.” you replied, not fully understanding why he was asking that. “Have I not shown you that I do?” You asked, concerned that maybe you had failed him in that aspect.
Turning around to look at him, seeing him look down. “No- I just.” he puffed, trying to find the words to tell you how he feels. “I don't see why you'd want to be with me.” He let out, almost a whisper.
“Choso.” You sighed, seeing him tilt his head slightly up. Taking a step closer to him, reaching for the sides of his face.
“If im with you- it's because you are you.” You smiled, your thumbs caressing his cheeks.
He looked up to your gaze, “But-” he started, “No buts. What are you doubting?” You asked, soft tone in your voice as he closed his eyes.
“I just don't see why you'd want to be with me- I can't talk about my feelings- I cry too much.” He started, seeing tears form in his waterline. His hands hugged around your waist as he tried not to cry.
“I see the way people look at you- and it makes me feel like maybe I'm not enough.” He whispered, hot tears staining the shirt you were wearing as he pressed the side of his face to your sternum. Your hands caressing the sides of his face as he lets out quite whimpers into your shirt.
Pulling him from you, looking down at his flustered face and wet cheeks. “You're more than enough Choso.” You wiped tears from his cheek, “I know feelings are so hard to talk about, and your crying just shows me just how sensitive you are.” You assured, seeing him not find any reassurance in your words.
“But-” He started again. Nodding your head no as he stopped speaking.
“What do I have to do to get you to see what I see?” You asked, smiling as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. His hand holding your wrist, pulling away and placing a gentle kiss to his lips. Half lidded eyes locked on his as he parted his lips, almost as though he was trying to think on what would assure him.
Pressing another kiss to his lips before letting out a ‘Hmm?’ seeing him gulp his embarrassment. “What do you like…about me?” he asked, his ears now warm against your fingers.
Choso was never the type to fish for compliments, he never asked you to praise him whenever he did something for you.
But he wanted to hear it, he just never had the guts to ask.

The corner of your mouth curling into a smile at his brazen question, “I love your eyebrows.” You smiled, placing a gentle kiss to one of his eyebrows, “I love your eyes-” his eyes fluttering shut, pressing a kiss to one of them.
“And your nose.” You hummed, pressing a delicate kiss to the center of the black stripe that adorned his face. “Your cheeks-” He closed his eyes as he felt you pepper his face with gentle kisses.
The pink on his cheeks turned redder as he felt you kiss the shell of his ear, “And your earrings.” you smiled, his hands on your hips.
Feeling you straddle his thighs, lowering your lips to his jaw. “And your jawline.” you smiled, feeling him shift under you.
Trailing kisses on the edge of his jaw. Placing a kiss to his chin, “And your lips.” You whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his plush lips.
Your hands on the sides of his face, looking deep into his eyes. “I love every part of you.” You smiled, feeling his hands roam up your back. Pulling you close to hug him, your chin on his shoulder as he held you tightly.
“I love when you make me laugh-” you whispered, “How caring you are-” his grip on your back pressing firmer.
“When you do things for me without me asking you to.” You continued, you hand rubbing circles on his back.
The other trailing to his bicep, “And how strong you are.” You smiled, feeling goosebumps form as you trailed the tips of your fingers on his thick bicep. Tracing your hand down his arm, moving it so you could intertwine your fingers with his.
Pulling away from his hug and looking into his eyes. “And your big hands.” You hummed, feeling his thick fingers against your smaller ones. The tears in his eyes now gone as his bottom lip trembled.
Closing the few centimeters that separated your lips, Choso hesitatingly deepening the kiss. Feeling his lips suck on your bottom one. The hand on your back is going to hold the side of your face. Pulling away from you with nothing but hearts in his eyes.
“I love you so much Choso.” You whispered, seeing him hold back a smile- almost too shy to smile.
Eyebrows furrowing together when you felt something poke your thigh. His face of embarrassment showed you what he felt, not even looking down to see what poked you.
“I’m sorry-” He started, apologizing before you even said anything. “I just- felt so happy hearing your words-” he babbled, wanting so badly to tease him. But you knew now wasn't the time for that.
Taking one of your hands and brushing the hair from his face. “Don't be sorry-” you hummed, looking into his face that was full of shame. Smiling as he tried to avoid your gaze.
“No- I am. You're just trying to be nice and I ruined it-” he mumbled, looking down. Trying to look away from the embarrassment. Seeing an opportunity to show him just how much you liked him. Mumbling a quiet;
“It’s okay.” before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips and taking your hand and trailing it to his clothed chest. Then down his torso as his breath hitched.
Your hand resting to the side of his hip, knowing he didn't wear any underwear whenever he'd be in his pajamas. Your hand cuffing around his clothed cock, earning a soft gasp from his lips.
Dragging your hand to where you knew his tip was, your fingertips grazing it delicately as he closed his eyes. Trying his best not to whine at the feeling. Smiling when you saw him try his hardest not to get too loud from such simple touches.
His cheeks flushed and such whiny sounds falling from his lips made something deep inside of you itch. Taking the hand that was on his cheek, placing the tips of your fingers to his lips.
Choso’s eyes opened to look at you, such deep devotion in his gaze when he looked at you. Kissing at the tips of your fingers before widening his mouth to welcome them.
The hand on his clothed cock felt a small wet spot at the tip. Making you smile as he sucked at your fingers, hoping they'd be enough to quiet his moans. They weren't, his groans vibrated against your fingers causing a chill to run down your spine.
The mere sight of him making your own arousal pool in your stomach. Feeling his hips buck beneath you, you smiled. A certain image you've had in mind popping into your head when you saw the face he made before he was going to cum.
Stopping your movements as he looked into your eyes, almost asking you why you’d deny him this. Pulling your now wet fingers from his lips, seeing his face of confusion.
You raised yourself from his thighs, his face full of betrayal as you looked behind you. Pulling the small ottoman in the bedroom in front of him. Sitting down and looking at him, eye to eye but much further away than he wanted.
Smile on your lips as you saw his face churn with shyness. Feeling your gaze on the obvious wet spot on his gray sweats. Thinking he had never felt this hard in his life. “If I wasn't here; show me how you’d take care of it.” You hummed, seeing him look at you. Eyebrows furrowed showing you how unsure he was.
“Take care of…it?” he whispered, his hands going to cover the obvious wet bulge in his sweats. Your eyes looked down to his hands, you mumbled a small ‘Mhm’ as his lips cracked open to say something but not finding the words.
His eyes widening at the realization of what you were asking of him. Goosebumps forming on his back. Seeing you rest your elbow on your knee, propping your head in your hand while you waited. He stood up, taking his shirt off quickly- not wanting it to get ruined. His chest almost heaving from how flustered he felt.
Tossing it to the side and sliding his sweats down to his knees, his eyes avoiding your gaze as his throbbing cock flung out of his soiled sweats. Seeing a smile form on your lips when he sat back down on the edge of the bed. His eyebrows pinched together when he saw how lovingly you watched him.
“So pretty Cho.” You hummed, making his heart clench. Looking down to his leaking cock, and back to you. “Go on.” You smiled, the look on your face as though what you were asking of him was some innocent act.
Gulping as he took his hand, grasping the middle of his pale shaft. Inhaling sharply as he slid it up to his tip slowly. Choso had done this many times, never feeling shame or embarrassment for doing what seemed to be something normal.
But not once did he ever do it infront of you, the feeling of being so exposed while you watched him. Fully dressed and praising him. You've said it to him before, but you always liked the way his face churned when you'd tell him, “So big.” you'd purr, his eyes squinting shut at hearing your words.
His hand took a snail pace, stroking up and down slowly as he looked to his cock and back to you to see if you saw what you were hoping for. His sweats falling from his knees down to his ankles as he let out soft whines. His thumb caught the very tip of his cock as he looked to your approving gaze.
“Does it feel good?” you hummed, hearing him let out a choked moan, he let out a soft ‘Mhm’ as he stroked himself. “Use your words.” You demanded, his face showing you how reactive he was to your tone.
“It-” He whined, trying to get the words out. “It does-” he managed, eyes flickering back to you.
“Always so cute when you're like this Cho.” You smiled, seeing his hand speed up the tiniest bit at your words, seeing his free hand hold onto the edge of the bed while trying not to cum too soon.
“Are you gonna cum?” Your tone came out more teasingly than you meant for it to, seeing him nod his head no, going back to the slow pace he kept before.
“It's okay. You can cum.” you hummed, seeing him look to you with pained eyes as his hand sped up. All but asking for your permission. Gasping at the feeling of his fist brushing against his crying tip.
Chin in your hand watching his fist come down his shaft, making him throw his head back and let out a groan. Stroking his cock through his orgasm, only making himself more messy. Whining as he came down from his orgasm, looking back to you to see if you found what you were looking for.
“Again.” You smiled, loving look on your face when you looked at his fucked out one. Wincing when he heard your words, almost like you didn't have any issues about demanding another one.
His hard cock twitched as his hand connected again, stroking slowly at his shaft, making sure to not touch his tip too much. Knowing how sensitive it still was, soft whines left his lips once more as he saw you furrow your eyebrows at his movements.
“If you're not gonna do it right, don't do it at all. Choso.” tone now deprived of all sweetness. Now sounding more upset.
“M’sorry-” he whined, stroking past his tip. Bucking his hips into his hand, choked whines falling from him. Soft sighs from him when he saw your eyebrows unfurrow.
Looking at him again with a smile. “There you go,” You cooed, “Good boy.” you continued, earning small whines from him at your words. Looking at you with a shamed face before asking;
“Can I-” Seeing you lift your head from your hands and rest your palms above your thighs.
“Can you what?” you teased, seeing his hand move sloppily as he heard your tone. He moaned, babbles of ‘pleasepleaseplease’ as his hand tried to keep the pace he set for himself.
“Please what Choso?” you hummed, seeing him almost cum without permission.
“Can I cum- please.” He managed through various whines, blushing so intensely that it roamed down his neck, onto his chest.
“Go ahead, hon.” You smiled, seeing his face churn as he chased the fleeting orgasm at his own hand. Unable to keep his fist tight enough to make him cum from how fucked out he already was. Barely managing to come once his eyes met your gaze.
Standing up from the ottoman as he came down from his second orgasm. Pressing a delicate kiss onto his forehead as he stroked himself slowly.
“You're so pretty like this Cho.” You cooed, holding his head in your hands as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. Seeing his eyebrows pinch together at your praises. Placing a kiss to his lips, eyes half lidded before pulling away.
“You did so good.” Pushing away the strands of hair that stuck to his forehead. Opening his mouth to speak- hesitating as he looked into your eyes.
“Touch me. Please.” He whined, feeling your hands on the sides of his face and his cock hardening once more. Pulling away from him before slipping off your shirt- knowing just how messy he gets. Kneeling before him, hands on his bare thighs as he squirmed at the feeling.
“I always liked how sensitive you were, Cho.” You started, taking the tip of your finger and tracing it on his darkening head. Seeing his thighs tremble against the feeling.
“How pretty you look when you ask me to help you.” You continued, slowly trailing the tip of your index finger down his shaft, hearing how he became breathless at the simple feeling. Taking your finger and gathering the mess he made at the base of his shaft, looking up to his eyes and licking it from your finger.
Smile on your face from the flavor hitting your tongue, seeing him try his hardest not to whine at your words. “And how sweet you've always been.” You smiled, leaning against his thigh. Seeing his mouth want to say something, lip quivering at trying to get the words out.
“Pl-” he started, a gasp leaving his lips when he felt the tip of your finger circle around the opening of his tip. Hearing you let out a teasing, ‘Hmm?’ As his hands gripped the edges of the bed. “Please-” He whined, seeing only the tip of your finger dance around his angry head.
“Please what?” You asked, seeing his tip let out a fat tear.
“Touch me-” He started, soft gasps leaving his lips at how sensitive his tip was.
“I am touching you, aren't i?” You smiled, hearing his groans become more and more frustrated. Looking up to see his face, a twinge of regret in your heart when you saw teary eyes looking back to you.
“Okay, okay.” You smiled, raising yourself slightly so you'd be closer to his face, pressing a kiss to the corner of his opened mouth.
Looking into his eyes when you wrapped your hand around his base, gasping at the sudden feeling. Pressing a kiss onto his lips as he exhaled in relief, resting on the back of your calves as you slowly started stroking him.
Rolling the palm of your hand onto his tip as he squirmed beneath you, looking up to see his head thrown back, choked whines leaving his throat as you continued. Your free hand going to his balls, caressing them gently as he moaned more pleads.
Sadistic grin on your lips as you looked at the messy sight before you. “You gonna cum for me, Choso?” You smiled, seeing him flip his face back down to you.
Muttering a gasping ‘yes’ as your hand sped up. Seeing his cock leak out small pumps of milky white cum onto your hands. “You wanna make me happy?” you smiled sweetly, knowing that all you needed to do was ask him that one question and he'd be putty in your hands.
Nodding his head yes, not being able to speak from the whines leaving his mouth. You pulled away, making him let out a groan.
“You look so pretty- you have to see yourself.” You smiled, crawling onto the bed, hearing how hard he was breathing. Bare chest against his back as he whined. Feeling your hands snake beneath his arms, touching his ribs and grazing his chest.
“Look-” you whispered into his ear, being able to feel the shiver that ran down his spine. Seeing him lift his head to look into the mirror in front of him.
“Look how beautiful you look like this.” You whispered, lips brushing against his ear as your hand trailed down his torso. Fingers slowly tracing the ridges of his abs, hearing him exhale at your words. “You look even prettier when you cum.” you grinned against him, making him let out a soft whine at your dirty whispers.
“I'll show you-” you grinned, almost too eager as your hand trailed from his abdomen down his happy trail. Already feeling him writhe against your touch.
Seeing his gaze fall from his own body to your face peeking behind his shoulder. Feeling you slowly push the tip of his cock through your fist. Making him shift his hips, your other hand going to hold onto his thick bicep. Slowly stroking his cock as he felt another orgasm pool into his stomach.
“I’m gonna cum-” he whined, feeling that the sight of himself in the mirror and your sweet voice in his ear was too much.
“Already? I've barely touched you~” You teased, pressing your thumb onto the bottom of his tip. Sliding it up and down as you waited for him to answer, not stroking him just to see what he'd say.
“I’m sorry-” he whined, making you let out a small laugh.
“My sweet boy. Always so polite.” You smiled against his ear, making him buck his hips up your hand to get some stimulation. Seeing his eyes squeezed shut through the mirror, “Open your eyes.” You demanded, seeing him open them and look into the mirror.
“Look at your arms-” you started, slowly stroking his cock as he tried his hardest to not close his eyes. Feeling your hand caress his bicep, fingers pressing down at the small vein forming. Moving the hand on his bicep to his side, keeping the slow pace as you stroked his cock.
“And your chest-” you hummed, sliding your hands past his hardened nipple, making him gasp at the feeling. “Look how pretty your cock is.” you giggled, seeing his eyes trail down his own reflection- exhaling when he saw your hand stroking him.
The feeling of your other hand rolling the bud of his pink nipple between your fingers made him almost cum on the spot.
Seeing his face churn in the mirror you whispered, “Are you gonna cum again?~” as he muttered various ‘yesyesyes’ feeling your hand polish the tip of his cock.
“Look at yourself Choso-” you smiled, seeing his eyes scan his body with low gasps. Whining when he felt your hand speed up, making him cum once more. Barely being able to keep his eyes open as you brushed your thumb across the tip.
“Look how pretty you look~” you gasped, feeling his cum fall between your fingers that grasped against his cock. Choso’s eyes falling onto his own face as he came down from his orgasm. His breathing slowed as he felt himself give you the last of what he had.
His cock softened in your hand as you felt aftershocks flow through his body. Kissing his shoulder before letting his cock go.
Almost feeling him fall back onto you, before you laid back into the bed. Feeling him flip over and resting his head onto your sternum. Holding himself close to your skin as you rubbed circles onto his bare back.
Tired eyes looking up at you, “Thank you.” he whispered before leaning up to give you a soft kiss to your lips. Placing one of your hands onto the side of his face, your fingers trailing above his pierced ears, feeling him hum against your chest.
Trailing the hand on his back up to his hair, combing it away from his face as you felt him slowly becoming heavier- showing he was falling asleep. “I love you.” You hummed, earning a small grunt from him as he tried to stay awake.
-
I wrote this cuz I personally find it to be one of the most attractive things I can think abt- and when looking for some like this abt Choso, I found very few which was UPSETTING!!!! its one of the few things that made me take 5 min breaks like every few sentences because i felt so flustered writing this. again I suck at writing aftercare. im SORRY. I needed to write something nasty- I felt like I was punishing myself or something. I needed to get this out of my head before I wrote pt 7 of obsessive!Choso!!! im getting to work dw
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WHAT’S YOUR DEAL? PT. 5



pairing. childhood bsf¡rafe && childhood bsf¡reader
content. fluff. suggestive content/thoughts kinda. language.
summary. unable to control his emotions any longer, rafe addresses you—and secrets are revealed p.s. ignore that the pic is curtain bangs rafe. he is very much buzz cut rafe in this series, that’s just the expression i was trying to convey in this part
SERIES MASTERLIST
you ended up being able to spend the rest of the day with enzo, finally departing from each other around 10pm. your dad texted you saying he had gotten back from fishing around 8pm, so he wasn’t particularly upset with you for coming back late—he knew who you were with.
you and rafe hadn’t spoken since the brief interaction at the restaurant. you figured he was pissed, but you were tired of apologizing, and you were tired of his tantrums. you didn’t even care about the girl he was with earlier—it was only fair since you had enzo. plus, he wasn’t yours, no matter how much he wanted to act like it.
finally being able to change out of your clothes felt like bliss after the long day you had. you decided to take a quick shower just to wash all the ‘beach’ off of you. once you stepped in, the warm water cascaded down your back causing you to shiver even in the heat.
you didn’t bother to grab any clothes because the bathroom was attached to your room. you would just change once you were back in your bedroom. plus, it was easier to tend to your hair before putting any clothes on anyway.
the sound of the diffuser echoed through the bathroom—that, and the loud music playing off your phone. so loud, in fact, that you didn’t hear the clicking of your bedroom door opening, and closing. so, once you had finished with your hair, you opened the bathroom door, walking into your bedroom. you stood there, almost in a state of shock once you saw rafe, sitting at the side of your bed. he was biting his nails as if he was going insane, looking down at the ground in front of him. his head snapped up to turn to you—what he didn’t expect was for you to be completely naked.
his once preoccupied mind, was now suddenly blank—or rather, preoccupied with the image of you. all of you stood before him, and he wasn’t sure he could bare to ever see you with clothes on again. his eyes raked your body, your curves. you, on the other hand, quickly reached for the t-shirt on your dresser, pulling it over your head. you grabbed the bottom, trying to stretch it to cover the tops of your thighs. it worked—but your ass was still exposed, and rafe hated that you were facing him right now. your brain was finally in a state to speak.
“shit! rafe… what the fuck are you doing in here?!,” you yelped, still holding the hem of your shirt past your thighs. even in the dimly lit room you could feel rafe’s eyes on you. you were desperate to cover what laid beneath, and rafe was desperate to uncover it. he hated that t-shirt right now.
rafe shook himself out of his current thoughts, trying to remember what he came in here for before speaking.
“we gotta talk, y/n,” his tone was different. it was breathless, like he was trying to plead with you—convince you he was worth a minute of your time. it was unlike anything you had ever heard come out of your best friend’s mouth. so, naturally, you were intrigued.
“what do you want?,” you asked, now rummaging through your drawers for at least some underwear.
“what’s goin’ on with you? why won’t you talk to me? why are you ignoring me? why are you hangin’ with that guy, y/n?,” the questions flowed out of him, even faster than he himself had anticipated. he knew he sounded pathetic, but he was too worried to care. you pulled some small panties up your legs. you didn’t even care to put on shorts. surely rafe was able to not act like a horny teenage boy for 5 minutes. you took a seat next to him, but it only made him stand in response. you looked up at him with a puzzled expression on your face.
“nothin’s goin’ on with me, rafe. i’m hanging around enzo because i like him. plus, you’ve been an ass this whole trip,” you answered him plainly. it was the truth, and there was no use in trying to hide it. you were done trying to spare his feelings. he had been on enzo’s ass since he met him, and it pissed you off.
“listen, y/n… i don’t know what i did, but i’m sorry. okay? i’m fuckin’ sorry. i’m sorry for whatever i said, or did. i’m sorry for the girl earlier today–,” he began rambling, pacing in front of you. he ran a hand over his short hair, then moving his nail back to his mouth until he thought of what he wanted to say next. you filled the silence with confusion.
“the girl? rafe. i don’t care. you can hang out with whoever you want,” a breathless laugh escaped your lips. the noise making rafe’s brows furrow in confusion. how could you think that? why did you not get that possessive pit in your stomach when you saw him with someone else like he did? he was losing his mind at this point—totally baffled at your response. he stopped pacing to face you straight-on.
“don’t care?! jesus, y/n how can you not care?! i’m not fuckin’ losing you to this guy. i won’t,” his eyes had a gleam in them—was he about to cry? he fiddled with the gold ring on his finger while he awaited your response. he knew this conversation was way out of his element, but he was willing to sound a little pathetic if it meant not losing you.
“losing me? rafe, you sound insane. you’re not losing me because of enzo–,” you started before he cut you off. his hand moving to his temple, and then to point at you.
“don’t. don’t say that! you’re lyin’. he’s takin’ you from me, y/n. you just… you can’t see it yet… yeah– yeah you can’t see him for who he is,” he was babbling on—half talking to you, half mumbling to himself. you had never seen him like this. it was starting to scare you. was he back on drugs?
“rafe, can you please just calm down? sit, or something. you’re freakin’ me out!,” you were pleading with him at this point. thankfully he obliged, sitting down next to you on the edge of your bed. he refused to look at you—scared he might say something he would really regret if he saw the look on your face right now.
“can you look at me? please,” you were already facing him, his eyes hesitantly rising to meet yours. you had never seen such hopelessness in him.
honestly… it broke your heart.
it broke your heart, but it did not break it enough to make you apologize for anything you had done. it was evident that rafe didn’t even know what he was sorry for—just that you were mad, and he didn’t want you to be mad anymore.
“what’s your deal, rafe? you can talk to me. i’m your best friend,” you even reached to hold his trembling hand, attempting to steady it. he was shaking slightly, but you could still feel the way he tensed when you said that last thing. his jaw tightening as if he was biting his tongue. you rubbed circles into the top of his hand—any kind of comfort you could give him right now would calm him down. you still knew him—knew what he needed.
“do you like him, y/n? like– really like him? do you wanna be with him? has he kissed you?,” his voice was soft, almost too soft. he didn’t even seem like himself in this moment.
“i mean… yeah, i guess–,” you began to answer him, uncertainty laced your words.
“no. you either like him, or you don’t. tell me,” he cut you off, his voice still quiet, but his tone more harsh.
“yeah… i do,” you admitted. it wasn’t like you were going to marry the man, but you didn’t just consider it a fling anymore—it can’t really be a fling when you haven’t even slept together, haven’t even kissed…
“fuck,” he muttered under his breath. if you weren’t sitting only inches from him you wouldn’t have caught it, but you did.
“is that a problem?,” you wanted to be sarcastic in this moment, but your tongue wouldn’t let you. a more sincere question fell off your lips instead—as if you truly cared whether rafe approved. he was still your best friend, after all.
“you don’t understand… i can’t lose you– fuck, i can’t,” his words were faltering. the wells in his eyes began to stream down his cheeks. he was so vulnerable like this—so… delicate, in a way. your hand moved from his up to his cheek, wiping away the tears with your thumb. he melted into your touch like he had been starved of it for years—the past two days had felt like years to rafe.
it had felt weird to you, too. he was your best friend and you had barely spoken to him. you missed him… it was just easier on you because you had replaced the absence of him with the presence of enzo.
“please… don’t go out with enzo anymore,” he sounded helpless—like he knew you wouldn’t agree to it, like it was his last resort. he was begging you, moving to lean into your chest. you could hear quiet cries, and you were in such foreign territory right now.
your hands cupped his cheeks, moving his head back up to look at you. you had no idea what was going on—if he knew something about enzo you didn’t—but whatever it was… ended tonight.
“why, rafe? tell me why. give me a reason, and i won’t,” your voice barely above a whisper. he had never been this fragile before, it seemed like if you even talked too loud he would crack.
“‘cause y/n…,” his eyes were staring into yours, your hands still holding him in place. it was almost like he didn’t want to say whatever was about to come next.
“because what?,” you were genuinely trying to understand. if rafe was acting this way, there was clearly something wrong. you just wanted to know what it was, that way you could make it better. he took a deep breath before answering.
“because i’m fucking in love with you.”
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Could you write something with 34. insomina: owner’s instructions for zoro? I’d love to see what you come up with <3
prompt list reqs are: temporarily closed
34. insomnia: owner's instructions
opla!zoro; 1,818 words; teeth-rotting fluff, truly mind-numbing amounts of fluff, strawhat!reader, gn!reader, simp!zoro, emotionally constipated!zoro, naps are the superior pass-time
summary: to nap, or not to nap, that is the question
a/n: or, the one bed trope, lampshaded with a hammock instead.

one.
The door opens.
“You’re in my space.”
“Last I checked, this wasn’t yours.”
“Who do you think set up the hammock?”
Zoro opens one eye and gives you a sidelong look.
“Hn. Thought it came with the ship.”
You narrow your own eyes, folding your arms.
“I’m gonna count to five —”
“Congrats, didn’t know you could count that high.”
You grab the nearest thing, which just so happens to be a fishing hook, and hurl it at him. Zoro parries it with the hilt of a sword, sighing as he turns to fix you with a hard look again.
“You wanna nap here? Then nap here.” He turns away, closing his eyes again.
You stare at him for a solid three seconds.
“So — not gonna move?” You frown.
“Never said I was.” He doesn’t so much as open his eyes.
You stare for three more seconds before the implication crashes over you like a wave. You go nearly apoplectic with indignation and embarrassment, heat cresting up the back of your neck at the image of the pair of you — together — on that tiny little —
“Whatever,” you mutter, shaking your head as you tug open the door and slip through it, letting it click closed behind you.
two.
“Hn.”
You smirk, the vague contempt emanating from the body by the door tells you who it is before you even open your eyes.
“Don’t like what you see? Look away,” you parrot his words back at him, cocking your head as you shift left and right, making a show of swinging in the hammock, stretching your arms above your head.
“Tch.”
You’re just about to turn back around and resume your nap, content that you’d driven him away just like he did you but then — your world spins as a pair of arms hoist you into the air, and the next second, you’re being slung onto someone’s shoulders.
“Z-Zoro?!”
He grunts, and the room spins again, but this time, as it rights itself, you find yourself somehow still in the hammock, though now pressed against a body — all solidness and smooth skin stretched over corded muscle. You blink, startled, down at Zoro, who stares up at you, a daring smirk perched over his lips.
“There. Now we can both nap.”
You stare, utterly bewildered at this strange turn. But when you try to pull away, his arm bands tighter around your waist. Your fingers dig into his chest; he barely moves, only shifting slightly to better accommodate the shape of you lying next to him, nearly on top of him —
“I — I don’t think —”
“Thought you were tired.”
“Well — not after —”
“Whatever. I’m tired.”
“Y-you’re —”
“You’ve been in my nap spot for the last few days.”
You bite your lips, staring down at his too-close face. A shaft of errant sunlight falls through the small window near the top of the room, landing in a thick strip across his face, bisecting it over his left eye.
As if feeling your gaze of him, he peaks open that eye to stare back up at you, and in this indulgence of light, the black of his iris looks trapped in amber.
“You… you can’t sleep anywhere else on the ship?” you ask, your mouth suddenly very, very dry. His skin smells of sea-salt and steel.
“Tried. Not as comfy.”
He blinks, the barest hint of a smirk on his lips as his eyes flicker down to your mouth, lingering there for a beat before it trails back up your face. You swallow, suddenly very much aware of all the different places your bodies are touching — chest to chest, your leg slung over his, his arm still wrapped around your back, palm pressed to the bend of your waist.
“F-fine… I’ll just g —”
“Mn.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes as he tugs you back again, easily pinning you to his side, “quit squirming.”
“I’m not squirming — I’m trying to leave so you can —”
“I said quit it.” His arm tightens again, flattening you against him. Like this, you can feel every solid ripple of his stomach as he breathes, each steady beat of his heart pressed to your cheek. You hold yourself like this for a few more seconds, coiled and tense, before slowly — you force yourself to relax.
“You… you really want to nap like this?”
Zoro sighs, his grip on you loosening ever so slightly.
“If you’re gonna keep on asking stupid questions…” his voice is already gravely with sleep, like woodsmoke, or the edges of a serrated blade.
You let out a long breath as well, resigning yourself to the strangeness of it all, but unable to stop a tiny smile from forming along your lips as you settle into the crook of Zoro’s arm.
three.
Sleep comes easily, almost too easily. And even though some say that it takes twenty-one days to form a habit, Zoro wonders if some other habits are easier to form. If some might feel instantaneous because it isn’t so much a habit as it is a resolution — he wonders what it means for it to be so easy to fall asleep next to you, what it means for someone like him to be so willing to give up consciousness in your presence.
He’s gotten so used to sleeping with one metaphorical eye open that when he does finally fall asleep, it seems the most natural thing in the world — a reverting back, a coming home.
The sun is setting — he can tell from the dim, orange light seeping in through the tiny high window, casting the entire room in stark shadows, long and languid as a lover’s limbs.
You are soft and pliant next to him, your skin the scent of milk and cotton, the ocean breeze still caught in your hair. Your breathing is steady, and he knows you’re still asleep — briefly, he wonders at the landscapes of your dreams, if they might just mirror his. If they might be about something like this — about the sea as it laps at the hull of the Going Merry. About the muffled laughter of the crew — his crew, their crew — of the clank and clatter of Sanji’s pans as he prepares dinner down the hall, of the dull creak of the main sail as Nami shifts the tillers.
“Good dreams…?”
Zoro almost jumps at the sound of your voice, thick with honey, your cheek shifting against his chest as you curl deeper into his side.
“Don’t remember,” he lies easily, because he has no plans on telling you about his dreams, about how they’d looked somehow exactly like this — like waking up with a warm, solid body next to his. And perhaps, of waking up next to you.
“Liar,” you say, just as easily, grinning as you lift your head to pillow your chin on his shoulder. And when you’re this close, you don’t see someone move, so much as feel the compression of air between your bodies.
Zoro scoffs, shifting his arm up so his fingers trail up the small of your back. You let out a soft sigh of contentment.
“You’re right, this really is the best nap spot.”
You lay your head back down on his chest; when he glances down, he can see the flutter of your lashes in the burgeoning dark. He doesn’t know if your eyes are closed, but he finds that he doesn’t care much about that now as he reaches down to trace absent patterns into the skin of your back.
“Hn. Didn’t know that was up for debate.”
You laugh, the sound trickling of his skin like water.
“It wasn’t, I was just… validating your opinion, I guess.”
Zoro grunts a vague sort of concession as you make to pull away, sitting up to stretch your arms, yawning hugely. And in the rapidly fading light, the way your hair clings to your bare shoulders seems like an odd kind of poetry. And Zoro’s never ever been the poetic sort, but he finds himself held captive by the sight regardless.
Mindlessly, he reaches up to tug a few strands of hair free, letting them fall through his fingers.
Once, he’d lain awake in the dark and wondered what courage the lack of light had always seemed to give to cowardly men.
Now, he doesn’t question it.
Now, he only finds himself leaning up to kiss you, propelled by some unknown force — perhaps the same force that had possessed him to take a nap with you in the first place.
His fingers are still tangled in your hair when your lips meet.
You make a surprised half-squeak that Zoro finds he’s rather fond of and immediately resolves to hear it again. And again. His free hand presses you back into his chest, where he’d been noticing a distinct lack in the space where you’d been. You melt into him almost immediately, and he lays back, content with the task of exploring your lips, the column of your neck, the wonderous dip between your collarbones.
“Is this…” you gasp, your fingers threading through his hair as he slowly trails his lips back up your neck, letting his teeth skim over the delicate skin of your shoulder, “what you dreamt about?”
“Dunno. Might be.”
He lets out a satisfied hum as you pull him back up for another long, lazy kiss.
“Might still be dreaming,” he murmurs against your lips, reveling in the soft vibrations of your laughter. This, too, he thinks — is a sound he wouldn’t mind hearing again, of tasting again.
“Didn’t know you could be so cheesy,” you say, cocking your head as Zoro scoffs.
“Don’t mistake me for the cook — I’m just still —” he cuts off, searching for something to say that isn’t stomach-twistingly embarrassing.
“Still… sleepy?” you offer, grinning a Cheshire grin.
Zoro narrows his eyes, pushing himself away from you, flipping out of the hammock in one fluid movement, his swords clanking at his hip.
“C’mon, sounds like dinner’s almost ready.” He waits by the door, a hand already resting on the hilt of his swords.
“Hm… and here I thought you might’ve wanted to sleep some more.”
Zoro glances over his shoulder, fixing you with a dark, piercing look.
“Food first.”
You smile, slipping out of the hammock, “Sleep… after?”
Zoro nods, seemingly satisfied with this sequence of events as he opens the door and waits for you to step through. Neither of you question where each of you might be sleeping that night. It is, after all, now a foregone conclusion.
“Sleep after.”
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Crosstalk
Undesired signal leakage from one sound channel or track to another.
Playlist (if you wanna play along at home.)
Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
Prompt: Eddie - I really like the idea of making him a naughty tape full of audio recordings of you playing with yourself for when he's out of town and you can't be together for a few days. But it's a surprise so you pass it off as a regular old mixtape and he doesn't suspect a thing until the first two songs end and then the real stuff starts.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: Masturbation, reader tattoo mention
A/N: I have a list in my notes of prompts and I don’t remember what ask this one came from originally so apologies for that.
18+ NSFW No Minors
Eddie digs through the bag he hastily packed that morning while the phone sits tucked between his cheek and his shoulder. “What kind of surprise is it? When did you even get it in here? Is it dirty?” He gasps into the receiver. He can feel you swatting his arm even from four hours away.
“It’s nothing wild, it’s just-“
His fingers close around something almost buried to the bottom and he fishes it out, slick plastic cassette case gleaming in the low motel light. “Did you make me a mixtape?”
“I told you it wasn’t anything wild.”
He knows you’re twirling your finger through the phone cord, your chin probably tucked into your collar in mild embarrassment.
“I love it.”
“Don’t uh, don’t go playing it for the guys though.”
“Oh so it is dirty.”
“No, I just don’t want them making fun of me for putting Linda Ronstadt on there three times.”
“Three? What are you, breaking up with me via music?” Eddie teases you while he reads the insert you lovingly wrote on, little hearts in the corners beside the 10 track listing.
“No! She’s just got a way with the language of love!” You whine into the phone and Eddie laughs.
“Okay, okay. I’ll keep it all to myself. Gives me something to listen to while I fall asleep.” Behind him the shower cuts off and he knows Gareth will be out to finish his tangent on getting bullied out of his terrible pizza toppings. “You gonna be okay if I let you go?”
“I won’t cry myself to sleep if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Oh shut up, I know you walk that widows peak night and day awaiting my return from…Detroit.”
“I don’t waste my time like that. I know you’re up to your armpits in groupies.”
Eddie looks around the old motel room and scoffs. “If you think four nerds are pulling groupies in the kind of room we have, I have a river to sell you.”
After saying goodnight five times and you finally hanging up on him being sappy he flings himself into the bathroom after Gareth and before Jeff and Frank get back with food. Four straight hours in a car with three other men makes him want to crawl out of skin so he watches the steam roll out from the behind the shower curtain with anticipation. Almost scalding water leaves red marks over his shoulders and down his chest, enough to make him feel clean again while he rinses his hair. He can hear muffled voices from the other side of the thin bathroom door and knows he’s been relegated to the small couch in their room.
“You know, it’d be nice to get the bed once in a while.” He says when he exits the bathroom and snatches two slices from the open box on the single king bed.
“If you didn’t try to spoon all of us we would.”
“Oh what, you bothered by a little cuddling?”
Gareth glares at Eddie hard and Jeff cracks up at the deep breath he takes in. “If it was just cuddling I wouldn’t think anything of it, but you turn into the world’s only land octopus! I’ve never been so sweaty in my life! I don’t know how your girl puts up with it, you’re a fucking radiator!”
“This is why I always take the cot.” Frank singsongs from said cot while watching the local news.
The bickering continues as Eddie makes his temporary bed on the too hard, too small couch and finally ends when Jeff just shuts off the lights. “I need everyone to shut the fuck up for the next five hours okay?”
Eddie only hums and fishes around for his headphones, cassette player tucked up under the blanket with him. With the tv flashing across the walls Eddie starts to drift off to the slow beat of “Blue Bayou”, a soft chuckle for your choice of intro, and by the end of it he’s almost out when he hears your voice.
“Okay, so uhm, this is actually your final warning to stop playing this for everyone because you never listen to me so I’m trying to save us both some face you ratfink.”
His eyes snap open in the dark and he pulls the player out from under the covers like it’ll tell him what’s going on.
“I’m pretty sure you’ll listen to me this time though if I put a warning on your mixtape.”
He slaps around beside him on the floor for the case and squints at it in the flashing tv lights to see if you wrote something he missed.
“Anyways though, I do miss you and I hope your show goes well. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there but there’s never much room in those motels, huh?”
He can tell you moved around while recording, the bumping of the tape deck clacking in his ears. He’s glad it’s dark so none of the guys give him shit for the blush he knows is dusting his cheeks.
“Hell, one day soon you’ll get your own room and then I can come out and I don’t have to do sappy shit like this.”
The recording cuts and jumps to Carly Simon’s “You Belong to Me” and Eddie can’t help but laugh and feel hollow at the same time. As small as this couch is it would be nice to feel your weight on top of him, your head smushed in next to his sharing headphones that might snap from overextension. The song cuts off a few notes early to shuffling sounds and then your strained voice.
“This is really hard to do one handed, I won’t lie, but I wasn’t just gonna whisper sweet nothings to you.”
One handed? He can barely make out your breathing but he can hear the gasp alongside your light laughter.
“I don’t know if you know this, and if you don’t I’m sure I’m just inflating your ego but-“
The long sigh that follows finally jogs his tired brain and keys him into what’s happening. He whips his head to the side to see the sleeping forms of the other three before he sits up and pays closer attention.
“You have amazing hands Eddie, and it isn’t just-ohhh-it isn’t just the guitar playing you know? You know just where that spot is. I think your fingers are longer, I don’t know.”
Suddenly Bonnie Raitt is in his ear and he’s fumbling for the buttons on the side of the player to fast forward because while he appreciates your mixtape skills, now is not the fucking time. You would make him wait through three more songs before he accidentally runs into the middle of your recording, a thin moan of his name that makes him stand and head for the bathroom.
“-and I just miss you a lot and you’ve only been gone f-for what, a day by the time you get this?”
His lighter clicks in the dark while juggles the tape player and his pack of cigarettes.
“You actually just left my place. We had dinner and I told you I wouldn’t fuck you because it’s like good luck or some shit. I heard boxers do it like that.”
You have a remarkable way of running your mouth while otherwise occupied, thoughts that zip between moans and even he has a hard time keeping up. In the bathroom he cracks the small window so he doesn’t set the smoke detector off and then locks the door behind him before turning the shower on full blast. When he finally sits on the edge of the tub he expects a little more from you before Bill Withers starts singing about missing sunshine and he has to fast forward again.
“You’d think I’d be a little embarrassed to do this but actually it’s-fuck-it’s kind of easier to rec-“
Eddie sucks on his cigarette until the cherry burns bright red and his lungs start screaming, the cut off voice in his ears lending to quiet sounds of your hand working fast to make your breath jump in your chest. He thinks about you probably laying on the floor of your tiny studio, right at the foot of your bed with that big boombox next to your head set to record. That pillow that’s too big for your tiny couch, the one that got relegated to a ‘floor pillow’, stuffed behind your head while your toes catch on the edge of your green rug as you try to brace yourself.
Eddie sits on the edge of the tub and breathes in his own exhaled smoke and chews on his lip till it goes almost numb. Sits there and listens to your gasps and whimpers, the far off wet slick of your fingers moving faster.
“You’d think…I was making you…a tape to send you off to war.” Your laugh is light, forced air before it chokes off on his name and he slides down to the cold tile floor. Cigarette tossed into the tub behind his head, he’ll fish the butt out of the drain when he’s done listening to your voice.
“Barely a long weekend and-and-ah shit!”
You’ve tranced him, hardly notices the dig of the tile against his bare skin, doesn’t give a shit that this floor is dirtier than he can imagine probably. He lets his vision fuzz with the steam filling the small bathroom so he can focus on your voice and try to picture you laid out in front of him. It’s just another lazy afternoon, weed haze ringing your apartment while he watches you from across the room.
“I miss you when you’re gone. It’s only four days but I miss you Eddie.”
Sitting on that tiny couch and mesmerized by the dance of your fingers over your own skin. Nails press lightly into lines of ink to trail up your thigh and over your hip, to press into the softness of your belly. You’d hold his gaze the whole time like a dare while your other hand kneaded at your chest. When those adventuring fingers finally dip between your thighs and you sigh so light, Eddie follows suit.
Through the headphones he can hear you closer now like your lips were pressed to his ear. Heavy pants and no more words, just breathing that stutters and climbs in pitch. He wastes no romance on himself, not here in this cramped bathroom, not when he can almost feel your breath hot and damp against his neck. With every hitch of your voice he speeds his hand up, didn’t even bother pulling his shorts down all the way. In his imagination you give him a chastising smile for it before your reddened eyes roll back into your skull on a moan and he uses both hands now, just like you would.
The next song started and ended maybe but his hair clings to him in the steam and his sweat. There’s a chord change he thinks that proceeds his stomach clenching and his thighs aching before it all cuts off with your loud moan. You must have slapped at the player too late, not catching all of your agonies for him. Not everything, sure, but the important part is there. Your voice chanting low as your pleasure ebbs, his name over and over until you giggle and gasp.
Soft hands, phantom and damp with arousal and sweat cup his face when he cums, the heel of his palm shoved into his mouth to stifle the high noises trying to escape his throat. The track clicks again back to music and it isn’t until Eddie hears Peter Frampton that he starts to crash back into reality.
“If I know you like I think I do, I’m sure you’re rolling your eyes at me.” You giggle again at the end of the cassette, satiated and melancholy. “I just wanted you to have a little something, though I am sorry I buried it all in some of the best love songs ever written.”
You leave him with an I love you and another I miss you and a little bit of a mess to clean up. In twenty minutes though, when he’s back on the couch having evaded being caught and sucking down another smoke, he falls asleep and dreams about that hazy afternoon he intends to give you when he gets home.
#Eddie Munson#Eddie Munson Fic#Eddie Munson x Reader#Eddie Munson Smut#Eddie Munson Fluff#My Fic#My Work
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Depth of the ocean {2}
Chapter: (1) (2) (3)
[Yandere romantic jason todd x mermaid reader + platonic yandere batfam]

The night turns into the bright sun. You flutter your eyelids groggily. Your pet fish is still sleeping. You have a great dream. The man was also in your dream.
You rub your eyes softly. You look at the ceiling of your home. You get up from your makeshift bed and begin to prepare yourself. You begin to swim outside to collect the sea shells.
As you gather all the sea shells you choose. You wonder if the man you saved will come back again to see you. So you have an idea. You come back to your home cave, putting the sea shells on your makeshift desk and begin to work out making whatever is on your mind.
______
Meanwhile jason, was on the bridge from where he fell into the water, and saved by you. His gaze fell from the blue river. He was not in his redhood suit but in his usual.
His mind wandered. Until he snaps back into reality, by someone patting his shoulder. Dick, he also in his usual attire. "Waiting for her to show up?"
"yeah.. yesterday feels like dreaming. I can't believe the mermaid was real." His eyes are still on the river. Waiting for you to come out.
"do you think she ever come back?" Jason ask, the air of the gotham was cold. "Maybe, but i have a feeling that she will come. The best we could do is wait"
Jason huff. The best we could do is wait huh? But he was an impatient man. He can't wait for you to show up.
______
You finally finish working at the hand made jewelry of sea shells you make.
The shells were Tied with a small string, depicting a necklace. You were satisfied with the result. It was pretty. You didn't realize it was already night, you take too much time.
You get out of your cave to the shore with the handmade necklace in your hand. You swim as fast as you can until you see the light of the night.
You peek from the water, checking if the man was there. Oh, he wasn't there. You frown. He didn't come back?
You rise from the water. Looking anyway hoping that the man appears. You sigh in disappointment, but as you want to come back to the river, your ear fins perked up. You hear something.
You look around, looking for anyone. There's only a street light Illuminating the Darkness. Your eyes squinted. You saw a silhouette of a man.
Is that..
The man! Your eyes widen at the sight of him coming closer to you. You tried to call him, but it's sound gibberish.
Jason, the man.
You flipping your tail eagerly. Wanting to say something. He was shocked at the sudden arrival of you, he thought you never came back.
But you did.
"you!" He yelp. Again he was amazed by your appearance. You nod in acknowledgement.
He comes close to you, he didn't care if his boots or pants were wet. He crouched down to your level, you tilted your head. God you're even more beautiful than he has in mind.
"you came back..." You just nodded, knowing what he just said. Jason smile. He notices that you have something on your hands. The handmade sea shells that you hold were behind you, not letting him see it.
"you got something for me?.." he chuckled, you nodded again, this time eagerly. You hand him the sea shell necklace you just made with your hard work. Waiting for him to take it on your webbed hand.
His eyes widen for a moment and finally he takes the necklace you just gave him. "Is this for me?.." He looks amazed, he inspects the sea shells. You nodded again. Well you hate it when all you can do is nodding because you can't say a word to him. You just know your traditional language. He will not understand the word that had just left your mouth.
You wait for him to wear it, he knows the look on your face so he wears it. It looks good on him. You nodded in approval completely satisfied with your artwork, you give him a thumbs up, you think you do it right cus you see people passing by using those gestures.
He chuckled at that, already loving what you did. His smile a little. "Thank you..uhh..little mermaid?" He doesn't know your name. You're kinda disappointed that you can't tell him your actual name, due to the language barrier.
You nod again, before you can go. He holds your wrist, stopping your mid track. You pause, your eyes looking at him. He looks at you like you're the most precious thing in the world. "Before you go... I'm jason, if you want to know what my name is."
You nodd at him, giving him the widen smile you ever can. With that you disappear, straight to the ocean. He was silent for the moment looking at the river. He wants to take you, with him.
You look so innocent in this world. He never thought you actually came back just to give him a sea shell necklace. He stares back at the necklace that is already on his neck.
In the third meeting he will be taking you, he looks behind the darkness. "So you guys believe what i am saying now? Huh?" He asked with a gruff tone.
Silence.
"holy fuck...." Spoiler is the first one to make a sound. The rest followed.
"okay i actually believe you guys in this" signal dumbfounded
"oh my god is actually real .." Oracle at the coms was amazed, while looking at the cctv.
"..." Orphan was quiet
"okay i might need more coffee after this" red robin will stress
"tt. Understandable" robin is fascinating
"still thought we were hallucinating huh?" Nightwing chuckled.
The batfamily was just standing in the dark, observing. and to prove you are real to jason, dick and bruce. The night ended with you sleeping happily on your makeshift bed.
And a sleepless havoc to the batfam.

AAHHAHAHAHAHA FINALLY I POST IT ISKAKAJAKSKWKAKKA, I HOPE YALL LIKE IT 🤭
Taglist:@amber-content @a-brilliante-mariposa @treeteaofversailles
#series: doto#platonic yandere batfam#batfamily#fem reader#jason todd x reader#yandere dc x reader#yandere x reader#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfam#platonic yandere batfam x reader#yandere jason todd x reader#yandere dick grayson x reader#yandere bruce wayne x reader#yandere tim drake x reader#yandere damian wayne x reader#yandere duke thomas x reader#yandere Cassandra cain x reader#yandere stephanie brown x reader#alfred pennyworth#dc x reader
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Fishing Bets (Will Graham)
Description: Will and Y/N make a bet about who can catch a fish first.
Warning: Smut (eating out)
Word Count:705
Request:I was wondering if you could make a foc about reader going fishing with will for the first time ans maybe it could end w smut
“So if I make this…” He rolled his eyes at his girlfriend, playfully. “If you catch this fish I’ll wake you up eating your pussy for a week.” She smirked at his words. “And if you win…” “You wake me up with your pussy on my face.” She chuckled, it was a win win for her. She looked back out into the lake, thinking of where she wanted to throw the fishing reel. She decided and threw it, taking a deep breath.
Will watched her for a second with a smirk, giving her a head start. It was her first time fishing, she wasn’t going to beat him. He threw his out in the opposite direction. It felt like forever before one of them had a fish, it was Y/N. She gasped as she felt the pull, knowing that she had one. She tried to reel it in but it was hard.
She knew that she could ask Will for help but they had a bet going and he was awfully cocky about this. Her arms hurt as she was reeling it in and unaware that Will had also caught a fish. It was now down to who can reel it in faster. She gasped loudly as she had the fish out of the water and on the boat. Will was a few seconds behind but it was close.
They both turned to each other with the fish, “Oh you caught one as well?” She asked him. “Yeah but you got yours first.” He told her and she laughed. She couldn’t believe that she caught one second before Will. He smiled at her even though he felt defeated, but at least he gets to eat pussy for the next week.
He was awake for an hour before he decided to fulfill his end of the bet. He turned in bed and saw her asleep on her back, like she was waiting for him. He pulled back the covers and smirked, she was in a long sleeve tshirt and panties that had a little wet spot. She was excited. He moved to get in between her legs where he was face to face with her clothed pussy.
The sweet scent of her filled his nose and he pulled down her panties. He looked up at her to see that she was still sleeping and gave her pussy a lick. She didn’t move or make a sound. So he licked her again, still nothing. He took his finger and rubbed her clit a little, she hummed. He looked up at her and saw that she was still sleeping. She let out a moan as he sped up his pace. Her hips bucked up against his finger and he smirked, she was waking up.
He quickly replaced his finger with his tongue and her eye snapped open. She let out a whimper and her hands went to grip his hair, letting him know that she was awake. He increased his speed as she moaned his name, her thighs shaking a little. While he was eating her pussy he slid a finger in her dripping wet hole. “Shit.Will.” She whined as he started pumping a finger in her. It was all so much, especially from being woken up this way.
He’s eaten her pussy countless times but never woken her up by it. Her pussy was clenching on his fingers and she was moaning loudly. Will could tell that she was close, “Let go for me.” He mumbles against her and her eyes roll as she feels her climax approaching her. “Will.” It was a warning, she was about to cum and get his face and finger all wet.
That’s what he wanted and he probably took every drop of her cum that he could as she came. His name heard loud through the house as she came all over him. The wet sounds of his finger and his tongue riding out her high as she comes down. She pushed him away and he chuckled, face wet with her juices as he sucked on his finger. She watched him and thought it was the hottest thing. She couldn’t wait to wake up like this for the next 6 days.
#hannibal#hannibal lecter#mads mikkelsen#hannibal nbc#will graham#hugh dancy#will graham imagine#will graham smut#will graham x reader#will graham fanfiction
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Boynextdoor reaction - one night
(unexpectedly spending late night with them)
Pairing: boynextdoor x gn!reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: not proofread, but nothing else
Note: no, still not a request, I'm sorry, I swear I'm working on those too! Also I started writing this like months ago and today I felt like finishing it because I had a sudden attack of ideas for this fic, hope you like it! English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes
Masterlist
Sungho
Originally he invited you over to try out a new video game he got but neither of you thought that it will be so entertaining that you'll be at it for hours. First you were very calm about it, still figuring out how everything works but after you got into it, there was no stopping. You tried to accomplish more and more together in the game and playfully scolded each other when someone made a mistake. You had so much fun together that you didn't even realise how much time passed since you started. The sun slowly switched places with the moon and stars appeared on the dark sky one by one. When you noticed the time your were shocked about how long ago you started this game, but you didn't want to go home yet. So at the end you decided to turn this afternoon and evening spent together into a sleepover because you just didn't want to leave your boyfriend's side. Not tonight.
Riwoo
You planned a movie date for the evening at your place. What you didn't calculate with was the huge storm that decided to start right after he arrived and soon the electricity went off in the whole building thanks to that. So the movie date became impossible. You lit some candles to have something light up the place, it actually turned out pretty romantic. You ended up eating all the snacks you guys bought for the movie while waiting for the power to come back. After an hour or two everything went back to normal, the lamp working again, the tv turned on and the internet connection came back. However, Riwoo and you had so much fun doing nothing in the dim lights of the candles that movie night already became forgotten, you didn't want anything else than to just be with, and focus on each other. And maybe a little bit more snacks.
Jaehyun
Jaehyun is a weird guy. Everybody and their mother knows that. Therefore when he plans a date you never know what to expect. But something that you actually didn't expect was for him to put together the most romantic dinner ever known to mankind at his place. He put candles on the table, gave you your favourite flowers and cooked a delicious male by himself (or at least that's what he claimed). When you finished you didn't want to leave yet. It was a gesture that showed you how much he really loves and adores you and you didn't want this moment to end. So you just kept sitting at the table talking, really opening up to each other for hours straight. This was probably the point when both of you realised how serious you are about this relationship. And another thing that you realised that night was that Jaehyun can actually stay calm for more than an hour long.
Taesan
You were at his place, laying in his bed, cuddling. He hugged you so softly but still so close, your head on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat. It was calm. You made it calm. The same way he calmed you down. At that moment it didn't matter how stressful of a day you've had, how angry you were at the whole world just hours ago. But as soon as you were with him everything seemed to suddenly get better. And there you were, laying down with him as a calm melody was playing on his vinyl player. Words weren't needed in that moment. You were planning to lay there for a few minutes, but minutes soon turned into an hour and then more and more hours. "It's getting late" Taesan whispered to you "shouldn't you go home?" You looked up at him, right into those beautiful eyes of his, and said "right now all I want is to be with you"
Leehan
You know how much Leehan loves watching his fish even for hours straight. At first you didn't understand; how can someone be so entertained by some fish? they're not even doing anything special, just swimming around, how can someone just stare at them non-stop? But it seems like tonight you finally understood. Today was not just long but also really stressful for you and you didn't want anything else than just some comfort so you came over to your boyfriend's. After eating something the two of you just settled in front of his fish tank watching as the little animals swim around in the water. Your head resting on his shoulder, calmly breathing in and out, non of you breaking the silence. You didn't know how much time has passed since you sat down there but honestly, you didn't care. You felt closer to him than ever before, it gave you so much comfort, and all you did was watching some fish in the dim light.
Woonhak
Woonhak LOVES basketball and he also LOVES you so one day he just decided that he's going to teach you how to play. In the late afternoon of a random week day you two went out to the basketball court nearby and started to play together. He thought you a lot, even got carried away to teach you every single trick he knows so much that by the time you were too tired to move anymore the sun has settled, it was dark already. But neither of you wanted to go home so, the caring boyfriend he is, Woonhak put his hoodie on the ground and the two of you laid your heads on it to watch the stars while talking about everything and nothing. Calm moments with him were rare, not that you complained about it, his active personality is one of the reasons why you fell in love with him, but still, you cherished every second spent together with him, even if you are just doing nothing together.
#lovelynicho#kpop imagines#kpop reactions#boynextdoor reactions#boynextdoor fluff#boynextdoor#bnd reactions#bnd fluff#bnd x reader#bnd imagines#bnd#bnd jaehyun#bnd sungho#bnd riwoo#bnd taesan#bnd leehan#bnd woonhak#boynextdoor jaehyun#boynextdoor sungho#boynextdoor riwoo#boynextdoor taesan#boynextdoor leehan#boynextdoor woonhak#boynextdoor imagines#jaehyun ff#sungho ff#riwoo ff#taesan ff#leehan ff#woonhak ff
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sevika and her kitty gf! ^.^



author's note - uhhh this kinda sucks but i have better shit coming i promise!!!!
content warnings - fluff mostly, mentions of death i think??? or mentions of violence- MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE!!!!!
--------------------------------------------
- in my head, nekos can like pick and choose whether they want to be in cat-form or hybrid form, and that's kinda what happened when you two met.
- it was an especially bad day for sevika, another one of jinx's plans had failed which had meant silco had thrusted the responsibility of cleaning up his daughter's mess on his #2 . it was exhausting, having to care for a child she hadn't even signed up for. she had longed for a connection that wasn't about power or obligation, just pure domesticity.
- a group of drunks was messing around with you in an alleyway, throwing rocks at you and such, usually sevika would walk on with her night. but something stopped her from doing that this time and she scared the group off with her presence rather quickly.
- you nuzzled your face against her leg, rubbing on it repeatedly as the prettiest purrs came out of your mouth, she let you stay like that for a while until she decided to continue her walk back home.
- but everytime she turned around, she would see you curiously follow her around, your ears perked up and your paws never planted that much on the ground.
- she tried scolding you, yelling at you, trying to get you purposefully lost in dark places. but she eventually caved and let you follow her. "one night only."
- she didn't know what to feed you so she cooked you salmon because it's common knowledge that cats like fish.
- she let you roam around the house, gritting her teeth everytime she had to reprimand you each time your paw almost "slipped" and broke something. but at least you were smart enough to not repeat the same mistake twice. you listened well, she'll give you that.
- at some point, she found herself in bed with a kitty sleeping snuggly on her chest, her upper body vibrating as the creature was purring happily atop of the feared woman, your tail tickling sevika's buff arms every now and again.
- she'd never admit it to anyone but she melted when she saw you like that, having imprinted on her already.
- you could understand her surprise when sevika expected to see a furry friend perched on top of her chest and woke up next to a random woman with the same fluffy ears as the cat she couldn't find anywhere else in her home.
- after you had explained to her what you were and your abilities, she had felt way better than she had when she thought a random woman came into her house.
- you had offered her something no one else ever had. if she had provided you with a place to stay, you would provide her with some type of companionship.
- she was hesitant and hadn't believed you could offer her anything she hadn't already had. but she agreed, half out of amusement and half out of thinking this was a gift from the universe somehow.
- you'd always be waiting at the door in cat-form for her when it was time for her to come home. at first you'd take the initiative and lay down in her lap. curling yourself up in a comfy ball, spreading your paws out on sevika's thighs.
- after a while of getting used to this sevika would pick you up herself and situate you somewhere close to her, you two would usually stay there for the remainder of the night.
- when you're in hybrid form and cuddling, she loves to stroke your tail while you're on top of her. she'll call you a pretty kitty as you purr into the crook of her neck.
- whenever you two get into an argument, you immediately go into cat-form and walk off somewhere else when you've had enough, something sevika both loves and hates.
- wouldn't it be so funny if sevika had started bringing you around to the last drop with her while she's gambling. it was unheard of before but no one was going to question sevika. but then some guy cursed at you or something for getting too close to him while you were wandering around and then she had to beat some guy's ass over her cat.
- loves when you put your head in her lap and she can give your ears a good scratch.
- when she's had a really terrible day, you'll lay down on her chest and plant little kitten kisses all over her skin.
#arcane fanfic#vi and jinx#jinx arcane#jinx league of legends#jinx#jinx fanart#sevika smut#sevika arcane smut#sevika x reader#sevika arcane#sevika#arcane fic#arcane#vi and vander#vi arcane#vi and caitlyn#vi and powder
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Aretia: Homesick
Xaden Riorson x Gamlyn! Reader
Masterlist
Riorson Estate – Their Room, Late Evening
The fireplace flickered low, bathing the room in soft amber light. Xaden sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread slightly as Y/n settled between them on the floor, her back pressed gently to his chest while his fingers worked through the intricate Tyrrish braids in her hair.
The silks came loose one by one, fluttering softly to the floor like ribbons of sunset.
She sighed, shoulders relaxing as he gently combed his fingers through the curls. “You’re good at this,” she murmured.
“Years of watching Bodhi being obligated by Quinn to braid her hair,” he replied, a smile in his voice.
Y/n’s voice was quieter when she spoke again. “I used to braid Ridoc’s hair when we were little. He hated it, but he’d let me because I asked. Back in our town on the coast—Ceaelyn— our house sat so close to the ocean we’d wake up with salt on our windows. Mama used to dry herbs on the roof, and the whole street always smelled like basil and rosemary.”
Xaden slowed his movements, listening closely.
“I miss the way the waves sounded at night,” she admitted. “I miss running barefoot down the docks, chasing fish carts, eating fried sweetbread until we were sticky with sugar.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, just leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, then to her shoulder. “You’re afraid you’ll lose that part of yourself.”
She nodded.
“You won’t,” he said, firm and steady. “Once we wed, we can have both. Tyrrish silk and coastal herbs. We’ll build a home that smells like sugar and stormwind, where you wear your fruit perfume and your combat boots.”
Her breath hitched softly. Once we wed. So simple. So certain. So true in his voice that her heart lurched.
She tried not to show it—but her fingers twitched slightly over the silk in her lap.
Xaden noticed, of course.
He leaned closer, brushing his lips near her ear, a soft teasing hum there. “Don’t act surprised. You think I’m ever letting you go?”
She turned just enough to glance up at him, eyes wide, warm, and a little awed. “It’s just... you say it so easily.”
“Because it is easy,” he whispered. “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
Her hand reached up, cupping his cheek. “You’re going to ruin me.”
He kissed her knuckles. “I plan to.”
She smiled, glowing now—somewhere between old memories and the future he was quietly threading into her hair, into her heart. And with her head leaning back onto his chest, silks pooled around them like seafoam, Y/n finally let herself believe it: she could carry both worlds. And he would help her.
Training Grounds – Morning Sparring with the Girls
The sun was just beginning to crest over the training field, casting a golden sheen over the armor and sweat-slicked backs of cadets. Y/n spun, ducked, and knocked Rhiannon's blade aside with a practiced sweep, both girls panting, grinning, and relishing the exertion.
Rhiannon called for a break, and they dropped their weapons, plopping onto the grass where Imogen tossed over a water flask.
“I saw you come back from the estate yesterday,” Quinn said with a knowing smirk. “Looking very glowy.”
Y/n rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it.
“Did the Tyrrish duke charm your braid off again?” Imogen teased.
“Actually…” Y/n hesitated for a moment, twirling a fallen Tyrrish silk ribbon between her fingers. “We were talking, and I told him I was scared of losing the traditions from my home—and he said… ‘Once we wed, we can have both.’ Like it was nothing. Like that’s just… going to happen.”
All three girls froze mid-sip or mid-bite.
Rhiannon’s jaw dropped. “Once you wed? Girl, he said it like it’s scheduled between training sessions!”
Imogen grinned. “Why do you sound shocked? You’ve seen how that man looks at you like you personally built the stars.”
Quinn threw an arm over Y/n’s shoulder. “That man is already mentally in a thatched coastal home with Tyrrish drapes and your fruit perfume in his lungs.”
Y/n laughed, cheeks flushed. “I know, I know, but it just felt so… real. Like he already decided, and I didn’t even say yes yet!”
“You will say yes,” Rhiannon said firmly. “Because he adores you, and you adore him, and we are so ready to throw petals at your wedding.”
Imogen leaned back dramatically. “Can I wear pink? It’s my best color.”
Y/n groaned, but her smile gave her away. “You guys are insufferable.”
“And correct,” Quinn chirped, already plaiting a silk ribbon into Y/n’s braid. “Future duchess of Tyrrendor, warrior princess of the coast. You’re going to be iconic.”
And as the girls returned to their stances, laughter echoing across the field, Y/n felt it—that warm, grounding truth settling in her chest. Maybe it wasn’t so strange to believe. Maybe this was what home could feel like too.
The Moon Garden — Late Evening
The soft rustle of leaves and the low hum of nighttime insects filled the garden behind the war hall, bathed in silver light. Violet leaned against the stone railing, letting the breeze cool her skin after a long day. She looked up when she heard soft footsteps and saw Y/n approaching, arms crossed, lips pressed together.
“Hey,” Violet said gently. “Couldn’t sleep either?”
Y/n hesitated, then shook her head. “I needed air… and maybe someone to just listen.”
Violet patted the spot beside her. Y/n sat, silent for a few seconds before she exhaled sharply, like she’d been holding her breath.
“I think I’m… spiraling a little,” Y/n confessed quietly. “And I don’t know what to do with it.”
Violet turned to face her fully, the concern immediate in her eyes.
“I love him,” Y/n continued, voice soft. “I love Xaden so much it sometimes hurts. And things are good. Really good. The ladies and the people in the village adore me, the squad keeps teasing us about being Tyrrish royalty, and he—he said something about us getting married like it was the most natural thing in the world.”
Violet smiled faintly. “I mean… you two look like the end of a romance epic.”
“I know,” Y/n said, almost miserably. “But that’s just it. I feel like I’m not supposed to enjoy this. There’s a war. People are dying. We’re all fighting for our lives every day, Venin and wyvern's are everywhere, and here I am… letting old women braid silks into my hair, laughing at dinners, kissing him like nothing could go wrong.”
She swallowed, voice breaking. “Sometimes I wish he was still just my Wingleader. That I was just a first-year sneaking glances, trying not to blush when he smirked at me during drills. It was simpler then. Safer.”
Violet’s expression softened. “You’re scared because it feels real now.”
Y/n nodded. “Exactly. It’s like I’m fitting into this role—the Tyrrish lady, the partner of a leader, maybe even future duchess—and it terrifies me. Because what if I lose all of it? What if I forget where I came from, who I was?”
“You won’t,” Violet said gently. “You’re still that girl who walked into Basgiath with fire in her chest, daggers in her hands with dark red nails, heavily accessorized, and silk ribbons tied to her hair. You’ve just grown. You’re not forgetting—you’re expanding.”
Y/n looked down at her hands. “It just… feels selfish to let myself be this happy.”
Violet leaned in, voice quiet but steady. “Let me tell you something Brennan once said to me: ‘Hope isn’t a luxury. It’s a weapon. And love? Love is rebellion in a world like this.’”
Y/n blinked, breath catching.
“You and Xaden? You’re proof that even in the worst of times, something beautiful can survive. That doesn’t make you selfish—it makes you necessary.”
A long silence passed between them, and Y/n leaned her head on Violet’s shoulder.
“I miss the crush phase sometimes,” she mumbled.
Violet laughed softly. “Yeah, but now you get the man and steamy political dinners.”
Y/n snorted. “True.”
The Moon Garden – Moments Later
Xaden Riorson knew the feeling of an empty bed too well. But when it was Y/n who wasn’t beside him, it sat differently—like a part of him had been misplaced.
He’d stirred in the quiet of the estate, hand reaching out instinctively, only to find cold sheets where her warmth should have been. He waited—five minutes, ten. But the sense of unease crept in like a shadow, coiling tighter with every heartbeat.
So he dressed, silent and swift, and made his way through the stone corridors, dark as ink. Something tugged him toward the gardens.
And there—bathed in moonlight—he found her.
Y/n sat on the bench with Violet, her head resting on her friend’s shoulder. Neither spoke. The quiet between them wasn’t awkward; it was comforting, necessary. The kind of silence only shared by those who understood grief and love and war.
Violet saw him first.
She met his eyes and gave him the softest of smiles, the kind only someone who knew could offer. Carefully, she shifted, whispering something to Y/n, and stood.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Violet murmured, brushing a gentle hand down Y/n’s arm before slipping past Xaden with one final glance of knowing.
He stepped forward slowly, boots barely making a sound.
Y/n didn’t look at him. She stayed facing forward, hugging her knees to her chest.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered.
“You didn’t.” His voice was low, but not stern—soothing, deep as midnight. “But your side of the bed was cold. And I don’t like that.”
She smiled faintly, still not meeting his gaze.
He sat beside her, not pressing. Just there.
“Violet said something wise,” Y/n finally said. “Something about hope being a weapon. Love being rebellion.”
Xaden’s jaw ticked, but he nodded once. “Sounds like Brennan.”
A pause.
“I’ve been scared,” she admitted, voice barely audible. “Scared of how much I’ve let myself feel. Of how much of myself I’ve poured into this… into us. And part of me worries that if I lose it, I’ll lose myself.”
He didn’t speak at first. Instead, he reached out and gently took her hand, curling their fingers together like he always did when grounding her.
“You haven’t lost yourself,” he said. “You’ve just let someone see all of you. And maybe that feels like vulnerability. But to me? That’s the bravest thing you’ve ever done.”
She finally turned to look at him.
“Y/n,” he murmured, his thumb tracing over her knuckles, “you can be afraid. You can question, hesitate, scream at the unfairness of it all. But never doubt this—you are still you. Fighter. Twin. Leader. Lover. And mine.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but they didn’t fall.
“I just didn’t want you to see me unraveling.”
Xaden leaned forward, brushing his lips against her forehead. “Then unravel with me. That’s the point, isn’t it? We hold each other through it.”
She nodded slowly, leaning into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her under his chin as if shielding her from the world.
And in the quiet of the garden, for just a moment, nothing else existed but the sound of her heartbeat against his.
Xaden didn’t say another word as he felt Y/n melt against him, the last of her tension slowly dissolving into the warmth of his embrace. The garden was silent except for the rustling of leaves and the faint hum of night insects, and still—he stayed there, holding her, as if letting go would unravel the fragile peace she’d finally found.
Eventually, he felt her body grow heavier with exhaustion, her breathing steady and slow against his chest.
Without a word, he shifted, gently maneuvering one arm beneath her legs and the other around her back. Y/n stirred only slightly, her arms instinctively curling around his neck.
“You don’t have to carry me,” she mumbled, half-asleep.
“I get to,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. “And I will. Every time.”
He walked them back through the estate halls, slow and unhurried, as if carrying something sacred. The few candles flickering along the walls cast golden shadows across his face, highlighting the fierce devotion in his eyes as he looked down at her.
When they reached their room, he eased her down onto the bed with a gentleness that would’ve shocked most cadets who only knew the brutal Lieutenant. He pulled the covers over her, brushed a few strands of hair away from her cheek, and leaned in, his voice barely a breath against her skin.
“You are not alone, Y/n.”
Her lips curved faintly. “I know.”
He kissed her—soft and slow—before settling in beside her, tugging her against his chest with an arm draped over her waist.
And as she drifted into sleep, heart steady, wrapped in the arms of the man who would burn the world before ever letting her go, the cold space in the bed was warm again.
And so was she.
A few days later...
The sun was low in the sky when Ridoc returned from his mission, sand still clinging to his boots and the scent of sea salt lingering in his clothes. The moment he entered the gates of the Riorson estate, he didn’t head to the barracks or the mess hall. Instead, he made his way straight to Y/n.
She was in the training yard, blades sheathed, seated under one of the old trees near the edge, sipping water and catching her breath after sparring. Her brows lifted when she saw him, and a wide smile stretched across her face as she jumped to her feet.
“You’re back!” she beamed, running over to embrace him.
Ridoc hugged her tightly, burying his face briefly in her curls before pulling back with a familiar crooked smile. “Missed me that much, huh?”
“Always,” she said softly.
He reached into his satchel, careful, like he was holding something delicate, and pulled out a pale, spiraled conch. It glinted faintly in the light, still carrying traces of sand in its grooves.
“I know you’ve been... missing home,” he said, a little awkwardly as he handed it to her. “So I brought the ocean to you.”
Y/n blinked, heart thudding as she took the conch in her hands. She brought it to her ear and immediately smiled as the soft echo of the waves filled her senses.
Her throat tightened. “Ridoc...”
He shrugged, trying to play it off. “The village near the coast had a few. I remembered how you used to hold one like this when we were kids. Thought you’d like it.”
She threw her arms around him again, this time tighter, burying her face in his shoulder. “I love it. Thank you.”
Ridoc’s voice was gruff with affection. “You’re still my twin, princess. Even if you're off living in estates, riding dragons, training for battle, and falling in love with broody heirs. You’ll always be that barefoot girl running through the tide with seaweed in her hair to me.”
She laughed through the tears that threatened to fall. “And you’ll always be the boy who tried to surf on a piece of driftwood and nearly broke his arm.”
They both laughed, the kind of laughter that belonged to shared history—sun-drenched and tangled in salt and wind.
When she went back to her room later that night, she placed the conch by her bedside table. That night, as Xaden lay sleeping beside her, his arms wound protectively around her waist, she pressed the shell to her ear once more.
The ocean sang to her in echoes—and for the first time in weeks, her homesickness didn’t ache quite so sharp.
The room was quiet, moonlight spilling in through the open balcony doors. Y/n sat cross-legged on the bed, hair loose around her shoulders, the conch nestled in her hands. She didn’t notice Xaden stir until he rolled over, eyes sleep-heavy but watching her.
His voice was low and gravelly from sleep. “You’re not in my arms. That’s a problem.”
She smiled gently, turning toward him. “You were snoring.”
“I don’t snore,” he murmured as he reached out and tugged her toward him until she was lying across his chest.
She let herself melt into the warmth of him, conch still in hand. He glanced at it and raised a brow. “Is that… a seashell?”
“A conch,” she corrected softly. “Ridoc brought it back for me. From the coastal village he was sent on his mission. He remembered I used to listen to them when we were little. Said he wanted to bring the ocean to me.”
Xaden’s fingers brushed the shell, and then her cheek. “You’ve been homesick.”
“A little,” she admitted. “I haven’t seen the ocean since entering the quadrant in Basgaith. It feels like... a different life.”
He studied her face, his thumb moving slowly across her skin. “I’ll take you,” he said simply. “After this next push, when the border is more secure. We’ll go to your village. You, me, and Ridoc.”
She looked up at him in quiet wonder. “You’d really do that?”
“For you?” He leaned in and kissed her temple, lingering there. “I’d go anywhere.”
She rested her head back on his chest, conch pressed between her hands. “Thank you.”
He closed his eyes, breathing her in, one hand sliding up and down her back. “You’re allowed to miss things, Y/n. Missing them doesn’t mean you don’t belong here too.”
She nodded silently, heart full. And with the sound of the ocean whispering from the shell and his heartbeat steady beneath her ear, she let herself finally fall asleep.
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#iron flame#violet sorrengail#xaden riorson#fourth wing#fourth wing imagine#fourth wing x reader#fourth wing xaden#xaden riorson x reader#ridoc fourth wing#ridoc gamlyn#onyx storm#the empyrean#xaden riorson imagine#xaden riorson x y/n#xaden and sgaeyl#ridoc and aotrom#ridoc x reader#of light and shadow
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this is my first time requesting something from anyone so, sorry if i dont make sense
but would you be willing to do something about sirius taking care of his sick girlfriend
no worries, it makes total sense! also can i just say i am very honoured to be the first person you request from 0.5k+ wc (a cutesie little blurb) - fluff!! no warnings
A knock on your door has you digging your head further into your pillow, eyes shutting tightly to block out the light peeking through the curtains of your four-poster bed. The knocks fail to subside, continuing so vigorously that you know there’s only one possible person on the other side of that door. “Come in!” You manage to croak out, pulling the covers back up to your chin. You hear the door opening and closing softly, and you shimmy onto your back just in time to see Sirius’s head poking through the red curtains of your bed.
“Oh darling.” He opens the curtain wider and sits down on the mattress next to you, a hand reaching to push some hair out of your face. “Heard from Lily you weren’t well in transfigurations. McGonagall didn’t know whether to believe her or not.” You scoff at his words but it comes out sounding like a snort, your blocked nose stripping you from any charm in front of your boyfriend. “‘S that why Madam Pomfrey came to check on me?” You barely see Sirius’s grin forming through your squinted eyes, but it still manages to bring a small smile to your face, especially as he goofily says “Probably.” with a loose shrug of his shoulders.
Slinging his book bag over his laps from where it previously rested on the floor, he begins saying “I didn’t think you’d have had anything to eat so I brought you some stuff.” He pulls out a barely creased paper lunch bag, immediately telling you he’d gone to the kitchens before visiting you. “‘S got some orange slices and pastries. I also brought you tea.” Sirius says, placing the bag on your bedside table to go digging into his own one again, looking for the tea. You fish out a hand from under the covers, sniffling slightly as you go to place it on Sirius’s thigh. Your touch has Sirius immediately glancing up at you worriedly. “What?” “Thank you sweetheart.” The pet name brings a pink flush to Sirius’s cheeks, and he places his hand over yours, bringing it up to his lips so he can give you a soft kiss.
“Pomfrey excused me from classes for tomorrow too.” You tell him, watching closely as his eyebrows furrow. Letting go of his hand, you cup his jaw instead, rubbing your thumb on his cheek. “What? Can’t go another day without me?” You only mean to tease him, but the stubborn shake of his head has you huffing in adoration. It’s almost as if you can see the moment Sirius decided to lay with you, eyes widening when he shuffles down the bed to lay down next to you. “Sirius no! You’ll get sick.” You insist, but your body defies you, moving to make more space for him on the bed as his strong arms wrap around you. With a single kiss to your forehead, he’s made up your mind, hands finding warmth underneath the cotton of his shirt.
It’s no surprise the next day when McGonagall looks up to find not one, but two seats empty in her classroom. “Has anyone seen Mr. Black?” She asks, her gaze pointed at one table in particular. “He’s sick, Professor.” Sound out the voices of James and Remus, shooting each other amused glances.
Professor McGonagall has the decency to turn her back to her students before muttering “Of course he is.” Under her breath.
#rainydayathogwarts#harry potter#hogwarts#marauders fluff#marauders era#the marauders#hp marauders#sirius#sirius black#sirius black x you#sirius black fluff#sirius black x reader#marauders#sirius x reader#sirius x you
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Moon River 2
Warnings: non/dubcon, manipulation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Loki
Summary: your husband is a mischievous man.
Note: this kinda just came together.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
You race ahead in excitement. The turtles float lazily behind the tank wall but you crash into another before you can get far. You stop short and pout. You turn to face Loki as he struts through a gaggle of children and to you.
"I told you to wait for me," he girds.
"The turtles," you say.
"Yes, they will be there still if it takes us some time," he tuts.
"Hmph," you cross your arms.
He mimics you with an arch in his brow.
"You're not supposed to use your fairy dust on me."
"Magick and it was only for your safety," he assures you.
You stick your tongue out and reach up to scratch your head. As your hair slowly regrows, your scalp feels all too exposed. Your husband watches your nails graze through the short strands.
"You didn't wear a hat."
"I don't mind."
"I don't mean for vanity. It's sunny out." He girds.
"I'll survive. Gosh, you make the world seem so dire."
"Forgive me. I find my fears hard to let go of when they have come so close," he takes your hand.
"I'm fine. I'm in remission. The doctor said."
"Yes, I know what your mortal medicine woman said. What does she know?"
"Lulu," you chide. "Sometimes, I don't think it's the doctor and the neighbour and the barista you don't trust. I think it might be me."
"On the contrary, I've never trusted any but you," he assures. "It is why I am weak, darling. Thinking of life without you. Well... I'd never have found this place and had the pleasure of inhaling the smell of fish waste."
"Oh, you always see the bright side of things," you tease and swing his arm as you continue towards the turtles.
"You are the bright side," he insists.
"Loki Odinson, aren't you a soft little puppy," you chirp.
He tugs you to a halt in front of the turtle tank. He brings you to face him as his eyes flicker. He smirks. "You know I am no puppy."
"My baby boy," you speak to him in your dog voice. "Aren't you so sweet?"
"I've proven myself otherwise, haven't I? Not very long ago in the shower--"
"Yes, naughty puppy," you giggle and turn to the turtles. "But that will still be there when we get to it. Right now, turtles."
He sighs and turns so his sole squeaks. He leans over and rests his hand on your lower back. "And I'll still be as I am. Ready for you, darling." He whispers.
🐍
You haven't had a bad day in a very long time. Not like this. You're still in bed as Loki wakes up. You can hear him go downstairs and make his tea.
You don't even get up to join him. You usually have a smoothie but you just don't have the energy. He comes to check on you, startling you from a half-sleep with a hand on your shoulder.
"Darling," he sits behind you and rubs your arm. "What is the matter? It's a nice day. I thought you wished to go to the park and see the birds again."
You groan. "I'm just... tired."
"Do you ever sound it." He drawls. "I did keep you up rather late."
"Mm," you hum dully. You barely remember last night. You just feel weak.
"Is there anything I can do?"
"No," you babble.
"Perhaps a few more minutes," he suggests.
"Maybe," you whisper.
Your eyes close on their own and you drift off. When you wake again, Loki has you on your back. He rubs your chest as he calls your name.
"There you are," he says as he holds a bright green shape in his hand. It's the elixir. "You missed a dose."
You look at the bottle. "Yesterday. I forgot. I'm sorry."
"What about today?"
"I haven't got up--"
"So you should take it," he says as uncaps it. "It will help."
You nod. He leans over you and hooks one arm beneath you. He pulls you to sit up against the headboard.
"A bit extra today then to make up for yesterday," he slithers.
He puts the bottle to your lower lip and you let him pour it in. It spreads over your tongue and trickles down your throat. You swallow and sigh.
"And your smoothie? I made your favourite. Blueberry pie."
He puts the bottle on the night table and grabs the tall glass of purple. You smile and accept it, keeping it over your lap as you press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. The elixir takes a moment to settle.
"Lulu," you say.
"Yes, precious," he rubs your thigh.
"What is it?"
"What is what?"
You glance over, "the green stuff."
"I told you, an elixir." You puff out and look at him sharply. He squints. "Oh, I do hate when you look at me like that."
"An elixir? But what is the elixir made of?"
He takes a breath and tilts his head. "It's not important. I've told you what it does."
"I can feel what it does. But the doctor said my cancer is gone so..."
"It is an Asgardian brew. If I tell you the ingredients, you wouldn't understand. What it does is offer vitality." He explains. "The doctor also said that with your rebound that you will take time to feel yourself again. I didn't want you to wait so that's what the elixir is."
"Oh," you sniff. "I guess that makes sense."
"Aren't you gladdened to be here? To be alive? With me? You shouldn't worry so much about my fairy serum," he scoffs.
He's being dismissive. Yes, you tease him about the fairy stuff but he only copies that when he's mocking you.
"Of course I'm happy," you say..
"And are you feeling better?" He asks.
"A little," you lean back and drink the smoothie through the straw. You make a face. "You didn't add honey like I like."
He smirks, "well, darling, forgive me, I forgot to fetch some from the market. We are all out."
You make a face. "Well, now I am not so happy."
"Oh, no," he takes the glass from you gently. "Be assured, there is more than honey I have to offer."
He puts the glass on the night table and gets up on his knees. He pulls you down by your hips and straddles you on the mattress. You screech in surprise and giggle.
"Lulu!"
"Yes, darling, say it louder," he covers your body with his. "Forgive my forgetting. You know I could hardly need for honey with something so sweet as you at home."
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Christmas sweater- Jude Bellingham



The sun was filtering through the large windows of your bedroom, softly illuminating every corner of the room. The suitcase was open on the bed, with clothes scattered everywhere. Warm sweaters, jeans, shoes and, at the center of everything, the undisputed protagonist: the red Christmas sweater with white reindeer and the nose of Rudolf that lit up if you pressed a button.
"Love, you don’t have to, really," said Jude with a heavy laugh as he approached your back. His strong arms wrapped gently around your waist, and his chin rested on your shoulder. "I can’t wear that thing in public, you can’t do this to me."
You turned to look him in the eye, already finding him with that smile of someone who knows he won’t win the argument but wants to try anyway. "Jude Bellingham, the great football champion, is he afraid of a sweater?" you asked with a provocative grin.
"It’s not fear, it’s dignity," he replied, pretending to be serious as he gave you a funny look. "I’m happy to be the center of attention on the field, I don’t want to be in your house!"
You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms. "My mother loves Christmas sweaters. And do you know who she loves more? His future son-in-law, who dresses up for Christmas. So if you want your mother-in-law to make you her famous chocolate cake, you will wear this sweater with pride."
Jude sighed, shaking his head with a resigned smile. "It is not right to use food as a weapon."
He turned you gently and took your face in his hands, looking at you with that mixture of tenderness and fun that only he knew to have. "You’re impossible, you know?" he muttered in a low and sweet voice. Then, without giving you time to answer, he kissed you with infinite sweetness. His soft lips rested on yours, slow and delicate, as if he wanted to imprint that moment in his mind.
When he broke away from you, he stood a few inches away, eyes looking at you with affection. "All right, I give up. I’ll wear the sweater. But I want the cake, and I want a lot of it."
You laughed, letting yourself be embraced again by his. "I knew you would give in. No one can resist my mother’s cake."
You began to pack your bags together, carefully folding your clothes and choosing the right clothes for the days you would be spending in Birmingham. You were excited to see your family again and show Jude the places where you grew up.
"I can’t wait to show you the square where I used to go every winter as a child," you said as you folded a red dress. "And I’ll take you to eat the best fish and chips in town. I’m warning you, I don’t accept criticism about food."
Jude laughed, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking at you with a loving look. "I already know you’ll make me fall in love with those fish and chips, just like you did with me."
You felt a sweet heat spread in your chest and stopped for a moment to look at it. "You’re getting too romantic, Bellingham."
"Your fault," he replied with a playful grin. "You have ruined my plan to be a tough and unapproachable guy."
"You were never tough and unapproachable," you replied laughing. "You were always sweet. Even when you pretended to be serious, your eyes could read."
He shrugged. "Maybe you’re right. But only with you."
He threw a pillow at you and your laughter filled the room. The rest of the morning passed in a cloud of chatter, stolen kisses and small moments of sweetness. When you finally closed the suitcases, Jude came up and took the two handles, lifting them easily.
"Ready for Baverly hills," he announced in a TV host’s tone. "And with the world’s most ridiculous sweater in my luggage."
"The most adorable man in the world," you corrected, taking his hand and weaving your fingers to his. "And you know I’m gonna be the one who decides what pictures we put on Instagram, so be a good boy."
Jude made an exaggerated grimace but then smiled. "You are a formidable opponent."
"I’m your fiancée, Bellingham. You’d better remember that," you said with a wink.
The trip to Baverly Hills promised to be filled with love, laughter and, of course, some photos with the most talked about Christmas sweater of the year.
#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham#jude bellingham angst#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham x fem!reader#jude bellingham x you#judes hoe😚#jb5#real madrid#christmas#football fanfic#sexy footballers#hot footballers#english footballers#football imagine#football x reader#footballer fanfic#footballer imagine#footballer x reader#footballer x y/n#football#christmas imagine#sweet couple#couple#jude sweetwine#jude x reader
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