#Minx and her dog
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Do you have any pets?
I have a dog! Her name is Clover and she is the absolute sweetest and fluffiest little thing <3
whenever she lies down on the gravel outisde our house she blends in perfectly, she is a master of disguise lol
#my unlces dog Minx is a bit of a bad influence on her tho#she is a menace to all birds#and an absolte nutter#/affectionate#shes a german pointer so it kinda makes sense#they are hunting dogs#asks
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"If she wanted to kidnap me her agent would cover it up no question 😍" - me, deeply mentally ill abt Maxxine Minx
#lord I need her so bad it makes me look stupid#I wanna be her purse dog#One chance miss minx pls...#this is about the movie Maxxxine btw if u don't know#🦴 thirsts#tw kidnapping
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Direwolf.
Cregan Stark x wife!reader
Summary: Cregan's direwolf is spoiled by the reader.
A/n: Based on ask! Also I'm running a fever, so I'm praying this makes sense
Masterlist
.....................................
"Perhaps it was an idiotic thought from the start," Cregan mutters as he views the sight before him.
His sweet wife sat on the ground of the dining hall, lavishing their dire wolf in affection.
Well, Cregan's direwolf.
Well, it was supposed to be Cregan's.
He had found the wolf not long before he became the Lord of Winterfell. Now, after almost seven years with the animal, their bond was inseparable.
So when Cregan's wife joined the mix, Cregan was nervous.
But she had a love for Dark Night, as did the large beast for her.
"I find it sweet," the Maester said with a light smile. "It is important the two get along, isn't it? Better than fighting for your attention, I'd wager."
"That's the thing," Cregan sighed. "Neither of them needs my attention. They're content on their own."
The maester chuckled, looking at the sight of the woman and wolf before excusing himself.
Cregan walked to the pair, holding his hand out to his wife. "C'mon, sweet girl."
Y/n looked up with a smile and took his hand, brushing off dust from her skirt as she did so.
Dark Night let out a low coo, sitting up and nuzzling at her thigh.
"Seems I'll have to fight for even a moment with you," Cregan smiled as he tucked his face into her neck.
She let out a soft giggle. "Don't be so upset, Cregan. You know you always have my heart."
He chuckled with her, pulling away and leading her to the dining table, pulling out her chair before sitting across from her.
The two talked of mundane things as usual: their day, the problems of the North, ideas they had, anything and everything.
Finally, Cregan tilted his head with a furrowed brow. "What are you doing?"
She looked at him with wide eyes, as if caught in a horrid lie. "N…nothing."
He simply stared, his hands resting atop the table. "Are you feeding Dark Night under the table?"
She reaches to pick something off of her plate, lowering it below the table. "No?"
He leaned back in his chair with an incredulous look and a chuckle, "You little minx. He eats enough, you know that."
"Well, yes, but," she gave a shrug. "He just looks at me so pitifully, I cannot say no."
She reached up to grab more, but Cregan stopped her, "Don't."
She paused, "Cregan-"
"-Do not spoil that damn dog. He is fine."
Before long, Dark Night's large head weighed down on Cregan's lap from under the table, a longing look in the animal's eyes.
Cregan looked down at him with a tight lip and a shaking head, "Your methods may work on our sweet girl, but you will get nothing from me."
The wolf nuzzled in more, trying to get Cregan's attention still.
Finally, Cregan waved his hand out at the wolf, "Get. Go on. You have already been fed today."
Dark Night accepted the defeat and left the dining hall, an obvious annoyance in the way he walked.
"Now," Cregan sighed. "Let us try to speak again."
…
A few hours later, Cregan entered their chambers in pure exhaustion.
The day had been longer than he had hoped, and he wanted nothing more than time with his wife.
Seeing her curled up on the sofa next to the fireplace warmed something inside of him.
He came from behind, leaning down to place a kiss on the crown of her head.
She hummed, looking up from her book. "Hello, lovely."
A small whine sounded in the room.
Cregan's brow furrowed as he scanned the room for his wolf.
"Why is he on the bed?"
She leaned forward, looking over her shoulder to see that the wolf had indeed found a comfortable place on their bed. She shrugged, "He was there when I got here. I didn't have the heart to move him."
Cregan gripped her shoulders from behind, gently massaging them. "I've had this wolf years, and never has he even been allowed the notion that being upon the bed was allowed."
She smiled as she looked over her shoulder at Cregan this time, "He's been so wonderful today. Let him stay."
He leaned down to her ear, a teasing smile across his face, "Why should I?"
She let out a hum. "Please, Cregan."
"Please what?" He teased.
Her head leaned back against the back of the sofa, "You know what you're doing, Lord Stark."
He smirked, leaning up and moving to the bed, "Up."
Dark Night lifted his head to look at Cregan.
Y/n immediately gets off of the couch, "Cregan."
"I mean it," he complains. "That dog cannot run this castle."
"He's not," she comes as she moved to Dark Night, petting his fur.
"My love, he-" Cregan froze completely, eyeing the dog. "A collar? You've bought him a collar?"
She smiled sheepishly. "Perhaps."
Cregan crosses his arms, looking up at the ceiling for a moment as he bit the inside of his cheek in thought. "Gods, you're gonna be the death of me."
"He's being so sweet, Cregan. Look at him!"
Cregan looked down, seeing his sweet wife practically laying on the large animal.
He shook his head, a large smile coming across his face. "As long as there is still room for your husband."
"Oh, always, Cregan."
…
Cregan woke up in the night, pulling at the blanket that would not move. He leaned up on his elbows, seeing the giant dire wolf that laid on his wife's feet, holding the blanket down underneath him.
Cregan heaved a great sigh, but inside, he really didn't mind.
He was glad the two greatest things in his life cared for each other. It made his occasional absence to the Wall less guilt wracked.
He knew they'd keep each other warm until he came back.
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Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath, @yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver
#fanfiction#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones x y/n#game of thrones imagine#cregan stark x y/n#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfiction#cregan stark imagine#cregan x reader#cregan stark#cregan stark fanfic#hotd cregan#cregan fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#hotd fanfic
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idk if you write a lot about mattheo, but I loveee him heehehe. I feel like Mattheo is the guy that sleeps around A LOT but only has one or two girls he really dates, and is loyal to them. She's probably one of of pansy's friends too, so they are very close in the friend group. He would also make it very obvious and be very touchy, like if there's a group hangout or sleepover he's holding your thigh or waist, and when you guys lay down you're ON TOP of him, like he wants you and will make it knownnnnn. Anyways he's such a pookie even if he's a psycho he's cute.
hey love! omg i love to receive asks, thank you for interacting! 🌷 and you're so right about this.
i mainly write theodore nott, however mattheo riddle is a close second (i have many drafts about him </3) along with lorenzo berskhire, in the future.
I FEEL LIKE MATTHEO RIDDLE avoids getting attached to other people, hence why he rarely sleeps with the same person thrice. two times at maximum, really— specially if mattheo finds them really pretty or a good company.
full-on distances himself: would only stop avoiding them until he's perceived as an asshole and 'not worth it', since it saves him from a possible situationship that could turn out to be a big, big crush.
but you, pansy's friend? oh boy, that was disaster waiting to happen. pansy, from his friendgroup, who gets invited and dragged to each of their hangouts? pansy parkinson, your best friend that brings you with her each time, since the boys don't want to go out without pansy, and she won't go without you.
it's a simple equation, really. no you? no pansy. no pansy? no hangout. for the hangout, pansy must come, which equals to your presence there too. mattheo riddle sees you so many times that:
he'll give up on his friends (never happening. mattheo riddle gave his heart to them and he'd never admit this, but the closest thing he has of a family is them.) so he won't have to see you so many times,
or he will grow some pants and not steal one single glance. mattheo riddle is perceived as a very attractive slytherin amongst other students— he doesn't need your attention.
but god. you're such a cruel little minx, and you don't even notice it.
mattheo looks at you and it's like you have him bewitched, because thoughts and more thoughts silence whatever isn't about you inside his mind. and that blossoms some cravings within him.
like, listening to your voice. will nonchalantly ask pansy about something that you like, as in your favorite subject, or whatever the fuck you do as a hobby.
it could be the most boring thing for mattheo, to the point where he thinks that he might die out of boredom. however, as he smokes a cigarette, staring at everywhere but you, mattheo will find a way to get this interest of yours as the main topic.
and then you won't shut up.
mattheo smokes a whole cigarette (and even a second one, for the sake of having you talking more and more) while he listens to you.
god, aren't you thirsty? you haven't shut up. and you know what? he likes it. your voice. it might get into a very dangerous point where mattheo will smoke, staring at the wall, while imagining this voice of yours as moans. or even worse: telling him reassuring, sweet words.
he's down bad. and he'll blame pansy for it.
he'll sleep with you just one more time. this next party will be the last time that it'll happen. and then, goodbye! because mattheo riddle can deal with pansy parkinson chasing him around with the intent of ripping those dark curls out of his stupid head!
except that pansy is a scary slytherin and god, one warning glare of hers, is enough for mattheo straighten up his posture as he guides you to his bedroom, mid party.
⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’
mattheo can look like a fucking hunting dog when he puts some effort to it. sat behind you, as you obliviously go through another boring class— those dark eyes becoming threatening as he carefully looks at each. single. desk.
trying to get one miserable unlucky fool who might have an eye on you. so that he can give a warning that would soon spread around school like a bloody virus.
mattheo waits for you to leave the classroom first. then, menacingly, mattheo will make his way to the prick who couldn't get his eyes off you— a little warning, one that the entirety of hogwarts and their mothers know to be a very serious threat, and baam. 🗯️
no more love interests. no competition. at parties, mattheo is a bloody falcon to anyone who approaches you for a dance. sometimes you might be enjoying yourself, dancing along the beat, drunk in your owm enjoyment to notice how mattheo pushes a guy away from your back, yeeting them to the other corner of the dancefloor.
just in case someone steals you away from him. mattheo justifies his actions as being selfish, because he's a bad person. and bad people selfishly keep what they like for themselves.
and god, mattheo loves your company. even if it's platonic or more than that, he'd be damned if someone got you too busy to be dragged along with pansy to their hangouts.
hangouts become smoking sessions with all the group, some smoking, others making company (and mama blaise making sure that not more than two cigarettes are smoked). smoking sessions become outings to hogsmeade, which mattheo likes to pretend to be dates sometimes.
like, 'really, fuck off theodore i can't hear that fucking accent of yours anymore'— so you'll go with him, right? there's this thing he needs to buy. oh, you need to go to the bathroom? what he coincidence, he needs too. might as well go look for one with you. ahh, so there's this bullshit you wanna buy? mattheo rolls his eyes and sure, he'll accompany you; who knows what a gal like you might stumble against if he's not there just in case.
and as you said: physical contact! will wrap an arm around your shoulders, casually, as you walk with the group or the whole lot of you are standing somewhere, while waiting for class to start. if you're sitting in the common room? hand on your thigh, squeezing it every so often, not even conscious about it as he talks with his friends. or even one arm around your waist, as his fingers feel the curve from your ribcage to your hipbone.
then comes the sleepovers as you said, love! 🌷
it started as a girls' night for gossip. obviously, blaise joins in (he's one of the girls, alright?) and lorenzo follows him instantly because this man knows gossip from many different sources.
draco goes too, hating to be one to be left out. if blaise goes, he's coming too— and theodore, well, there will be snacks; besides, he doesn't feel like being alone tonight. mattheo riddle, on the other hand, was the first one to want to join the girls (you) but was waiting for the others to say the first word, so it's less suspicious for him to join.
this first sleepover becomes a slow tradition for the group; unless there's exams preventing you to do so, then this happens weekly. even if someone has a boyfriend or girlfriend expecting some quality time during this night? nuh-huh, sleepovers at pansy's are sacred.
once, theodore left to spend the night with some ravenclaw; the whole room boo-ed him so bad that theo got seriously offended.
the only problem that might surface is how many people pansy's room is meant to take. you see, if it was only the two of you, it'd be perfectly okay; but now there's five boys expecting a good night of sleep.
nevermind if pansy's plans were to have you two sharing the bed to cuddle; a few hours later, mattheo will have you sleeping on top of him (he's warmer!) and sincerely might have the most peaceful sleep with the reassuring weight of you on top of him. should you fall asleep first, mattheo will glare and shush at the other boys, if they happen to make too much noise.
also protects your sleep. if one of them grabs a pen to draw on your face, mattheo won't let that happen. mysteriously, when the hilarious clown (who suggested this idea) woke up in the morning, his whole face was doodled. ha. i wonder who did it.
HOWEVER, mattheo riddle would also be hot and cold. yes and no, clingy and distant.
as soon as some progress is made, or things are the slightest verbalized— mattheo riddle will distance himself so well, that you'll barely catch glimpses of him for a few hours or days.
then, he's all over you; snatching you from a conversation or full-on passing by you on a hallway, picking you up with him and carrying you for some alone time. might be making out, requiring your presence as he smokes (sometimes, he won't even encourage you to talk your tongue off) or sex. this happens when mattheo can't handle how much he misses you anymore.
those days spent apart are already known by the boys. at first, he's a bit silent, overthinking and distant from conversations. then, mattheo gets increasingly moody, rolling his eyes at everything and telling them to shut the fuck up— which, okay, moody much?
it's at this point that lorenzo and theodore exchange knowing glances, and soon draco joins in to participate on the bet of how long it'll take mattheo riddle to crawl back to you.
blaise thinks the bet is stupid— and so he bets the shortest amount of time with all the confidence in the world.
( unsurprisingly he's the one who won the bet. lorenzo accuses him of having mattheo telling him stuff in secret. )
⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’
this is in case some romantic, possessive feelings blossom between the two of you, or at least within mattheo.
however, the idea of him having one or two girls with whom he goes out on dates or fucks more than three times, a bit more platonically—that's something i can see happening too.
so hear me out,
this one person that makes it obvious that things between the two of are reciprocated. mattheo doesn't want a relationship, you don't want a relationship. he likes to fuck you, you like getting fucked by him. and things are never blurred lines; it seems natural, really. and so it becomes a weird type of friends with benefits because it's not like a real friendship, more of that person you know, you're attracted to, yet are no feelings envolved.
which is perfect for mattheo because thank merlin he doesn't have to go full-on asshole with you and run away around school, like the other six times he did so.
will ask you out on a date a few times, and accept to go on some with you; dates, because that's what outsiders would conclude at the sight of the two of you. in reality, those are more like hangouts, to suppress that silent craving of something more than superficial attraction.
will wrap his arm around you, indulge you, probably pay for your meal or some bullshit you found cool while window shopping. definitely walks you to your dorm, making sure that you got there safely.
will let you sleepover at his bedroom or rest a little before taking his shit and flee out of your bedroom. is more careless with you (in a way that he'll indulge these little things, overstaying and not running away) than with other girls, since he's not afraid to give you hope on something that won't ever happen.
might go to your bedroom if he's having a bad day, or needing to vent. might smoke a cigarette as he does so— and have the decency of doing this near the window, so he won't get your bedroom all smelly from the tobacco or with foggy due to the smoke. should you barge in his room for something similar, well, mattheo is all ears to you, too.
i feel like mattheo would genuinely care about this girl, even if it's platonically so. sincerely sees her as a friend, even though he won't tell you— mattheo hates to sound emotional or attached.
and if you get a serious fling or someone you like?
mattheo will tell you something like, 'yeah, yeah; just don't come back to my bed.' — which might sound so infuriatingly arrogant of him, but the little smile he gives you, reveals the intention behind it: if you don't come back to him, then you won't continue this friends with benefits thing for the sake of satisfying each other's void for something more that both of you are scared to have, well, then that means that you're happy. that you finally found someone for you.
after that, you'll only exchange glances. if mattheo passes by you in the hallway, he'll greet you, or at least nod in acknowledgement of your presence. things might be over, but i feel like mattheo would still have a space for you in his heart— as in, you've become someone that he actually has a lot of consideration for.
and god forbids this boyfriend of yours turns out to be an asshole; mattheo will gladly land him to the infirmary wing, for the sake of an opportunity to think about what he's done.
hey, mattheo riddle does care about you. you're like, a strange friendship to him. might come to you and ask you if you're alright, if you need anything.
but then he'll tease you— you have the worst taste for men, cuz hey, you remember that you did more than just fuck him once, right?
⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’
what would be funny is if these two situationships happen at the same time. because i feel like this fwb one might give the scolding that mattheo needs.
truthfully, mattheo wouldn't admit this weird attachment to you not even to theodore; that's how in denial he is. however, mattheo will ask this fwb about her opinion, or even seek some advice.
in conclusion: i totally feel like mattheo riddle is pretty loyal to these two girls, in different ways; one of them he'd slowly work on fighting over his commitment issues, while the other is a strange type of best friend whom he'd still defend her honor�� nevermind if you don't fuck him anymore.
🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.
— tysm for interacting with me! your ask got me giggling and created a whole brainrot because seriously, i can see this 100% happening.
the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷
#slytherin boys#headcanons#slytherin boys react#hp fandom#hp fanfic#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle headcanons#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle x reader#slytherin boys headcanons#slytherin#sbr#mattheo riddle imagine
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REMUS LUPIN | 16:63 ⏤BABY FEVER
SUM. : you and remus meet an adorable baby while grocery shopping
TAGS. : husband remus ; wife reader ; modern au ; muggle au ; married au ; baby fever ; mentions of birth control ; honeymoon phase ; domestic fluff
LENGTH : 0.6k
NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED
You and Remus were doing your weekly shop, list in hand as he pushed the shopping cart beside you. It’s a peaceful routine the two of you got into after making it official and moving in together. Every Friday, after the two of you got off work, he’d pick you up and you’d both go grocery shopping for the upcoming week.
“Should we buy welsh cakes or make them ourselves?” you mutter aloud as Remus chuckles beside you.
“You mean ‘or you make them’, you know I’m useless around ovens,” he presses an affectionate kiss against your temple and smiles at the giggle it draws from your pretty lips — music to his ears. People said it was impossible to stay in the honeymoon phase of your relationship for so long but you and Remus debunked all of that. From a distance, the two of you still looked like newlyweds.
“I suppose I have some time to make a few batches after we get home today,” you smile at your husband, “we can have some before tea,”
“Sounds like a plan, dove,” Remus agrees and, as you add a small bag of self-raising flour to your cart, you hear a cry to your right and turn to see a baby perched in the cart seat, reaching its small pudgy hands down for a small dog plush they must have dropped. To the left of the baby, you saw, who you assumed was the child’s mother softly ask what the matter was, her brows furrowed from worry. It appears as though she didn’t see that her child had dropped their toy.
Before you could take action, Remus was already handing the small plush back to the child, “here you go,” he whispers softly, “no more tears now,”
The mother flashed a smile at your husband, “Thank you so much,” she then turned to her child, “let’s say thank you to the kind man, darling,” she took the child’s small wrist and made them wave at you and Remus, who moved to stand beside you with an adoring smile on his face. Seeming to understand what their mother was asking of them, the baby gives a gummy grin with the few teeth they had as their eyes disappear behind their pudgy, flushed cheeks. At this, the mother gave one final grateful smile before moving on with her shopping, her baby hugging their beloved plush to their chest.
“How cute,” Remus mutters, smiling and waving a final goodbye at the baby as he gradually begins to realise how quiet you’ve been.
“Remus…” he looks at you with soft eyes as yours become rounded when looking up at him, they sparkled with want as you push your bottom lip out into a pout. It’s a look he’s familiar with; it’s the one you always pulled when you wanted something so he’s quick to anticipate any request you wanted to make.
“Yes, dove?”
“I want a baby,”
“A–...” speechless, Remus stares at you with his jaw slackened and his eyes wide. A heat crawls up his neck and floods his cheeks as he stiffens in the hopes that the tightening of his pants weren’t just his imagination, “a…a baby?...”
“Yeah…” your whining voice makes a heat pool in his lower abdomen and, just when he thought you couldn’t make things worse, your arms wrap around his torso to squeeze him close. He looks down with red cheeks as you place your chin on his chest and continue pouting, “I want a baby now!”
“D-Dove— we can’t–”
“Why not?”
“..y-you’re on birth control–!”
“I’ll get off it,” you quickly reply, grinning up at him like the little minx you are. He knows that you can see the profound effect your statement has on him, “please, honey~” like all of your requests before, Remus can’t say no to you.
He’ll give you a baby and he’s not going to wait for you to get off birth control.
NAVI.
A/N : i'm dying from a horrible flu and fever but i had to write this before i lost the inspiration to, again, this was inspired by tiktok XD i hope you darlings enjoy! i'll try to get better as soon as possible so i can get back to writing again ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝
TAGLIST : @rosalyn-s @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @chullu-bhar-paani
#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus x reader#remus lupin fluff#remus fluff#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin x you#☽ : timestamp
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can u write a smut which farleigh start has a breeding kink? i was so shy to ask but here we are...
Of course! don’t be shy, I love getting requests like this!
HOT & HEAVY
(a one shot)
PAIRINGS:Farleigh Start x reader
WARNINGS: foul language, clingy!Farleigh, pet names, fluff!
NSFW WARNINGS: breeding kink!!, cream pie, overstimulation, praise, light dumbification, cock warming
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
Farleigh was more antsy than usual. More observing and jumpy.
He’d been this way ever since last nights party when his friend, Mark, had arrived with a 1 year old in his arms. Said he was babysitting, although a party full of drunken and strung out people didn’t sound like an ideal place.
So, that’s what made you take it upon yourself to care for the child that night while everyone else had fun. You didn’t mind at all, matter of fact, you were excited. You were amazing with kids, and you’d much rather be spending your time taking care of one than having a killer hangover the next morning.
Farleigh had watched silently as you bounced the 1 year old, who’s name he learned was Marceline, on your hip half the night. The way she would babble on and on while chewing on your fingers absentmindedly while you casually talked to other people. The little giggles the little girl let out when you’d tickle her stomach, the smiles on both of your faces adoring.
Then it got him thinking.
What if that was his baby that you were holding instead? The one he’d only ever dreamed of having with you? How great of a mother you would be; naturally so caring and loving, kindness a default in your tender nature.
So of course it was the only thing spiraling in Farleighs’ mind for nearly 2 weeks since it happened.
Then his mind drifted off to….other things.
How beautiful you’d look swollen, full of his seed. Breasts sore, tender to the touch and full of milk he’d selfishly want to keep to himself. Everyone would know you were his, how could they not? He would be within 4 feet of you at all times if you’d fallen pregnant. The ‘scary guard dog’ over your shoulder, yet staring at you with the upmost love.
but you, innocent little you, were completely unaware of this.
So you gasped in shock when Farleigh had taken it upon himself to bend you over the kitchen counter when you were trying to make chocolate chip muffins.
You wore a baby pink robe with nothing but lilac laced panties underneath. “Baby, what—“ you started, but you were hushed by the feeling of his cock pressed against your already dampening cunt. “You little fuckin’ minx. Don’t know what you do to me, love.” He whispered in your ear.
You heard his pants drop to the floor behind you, and he pushed your panties to the side, lining his tip that was laced with pre-cum to your throbbing entrance that was clenching around nothing.
You whimpered as he pushed his fat tip in before filling you to the brim full of his cock. He was freakishly long, the biggest you’d ever taken the only cock you’ve ever taken, he was at least 8 inches, maybe a little more.
You could feel his tip kiss your cervix and your mouth hung agape, breathless as he began to relentlessly pound into you. His balls slapped against your clit with every thrust he delivered, and his hands gripped at your waist harshly, yet the angel kisses he delivered to your shoulders were gentle.
“Gonna fill you, baby. Gonna stuff you so full, you’re gonna look so so pretty when I’m done with you, honey.” He nearly whimpered out. Your cunt was spasming around him, and he knew you liked the idea by the way you clamped down onto him. You were so tight around him, he felt like he was gonna lose his mind if he couldn’t rut himself into you.
Farleigh was like a bitch in heat; and he was no better than you in this position. He was equally as a mess as you were. Both of you moaning uncontrollably, gripping at anything just to hold yourselves stable. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head when his fingers met your clit.
He rolled your bundle of nerves between his fingers harshly, adding just the right amount of pressure to make you see stars. He was using you like a fleshlight, a cocksleve that was made specifically for him. And the worst best part about it? You had absolutely no complaints.
You’d gladly let your needy boy use you anytime he wanted to if it meant getting your brains fucked out.
He gently craned your neck back by your hair “Gonna make you a mommy. Yeah? You want that? You wanna make me a daddy, sweetheart?” He asked against your lips. You whimpered and whined, his cock still drilling into you at an alarming rate. “Y-yesss, oh fuck! Farleigh! Whatever you want!” You all but yelled out.
He somehow managed to let out a half-assed chuckle in amusement. “Nearly fucked my baby dumb, I think. Don’t even know what you’re agreeing to.” He said as he held your face back down against the marble countertop. The way he towered over you, and overpowered without even trying is what had you tumbling over the edge with a loud moan.
You released all over him, his happy trail becoming sticky with your cum. But he wasn’t finished, hell, he hasn’t even had his release yet, but the way your cunt ached around him trigged it.
He shot his hot, sticky seed deep into your fertile womb with a satisfied groan. “I’ve fucked a baby into you now, yeah?” He asked, condescendingly. You were on too much of a high to even process the words the taller man was saying to you.
You felt him pick you up, and somehow turn you around on his cock, now facing him as he carried you to the couch. He sat down with you still on him, and began rubbing slow circles onto your numb clit.
You whined as you dropped your head onto his shoulder. “S’too much, Farleigh!” You whimpered out, but your pleas fell to deaf ears. “Shh, I know, baby. Just gotta make sure you stay nice n’ full of my cum.” He whispered out as he rubbed his hand up and down your back with his free hand soothingly.
“My good girl, hm? Takin my cock so well, princess.” He said as he kissed the top of your head. You nodded, still clinging onto him like your life depended on it.
Your eyes felt heavy with sleep as your boyfriend trailed his kisses down to your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. You were half awake, having your second orgasm as his fingers began to toy with your clit more feverishly.
Your swollen bud aching painfully, yet somehow still feeling so good just from his skilled fingers. “M’gonna cum again, Farleigh!” You moaned out as you humped yourself against his fingers at the same pace he was toying with you.
“Just let it happen, baby. So good f’me.” He cooed in your ear as you felt yourself squirt all over him for a second time. He groaned as he felt your juices slide down his cock. It was such a pretty sight.
You stuffed so full of his cock and cum, whimpering and helpless as you sat on him. The way your cunt squelched when you’d attempt to get off, yet Farleighs rough hands held you down.
You fell asleep in his arms, his cock still planted in you. Farleighs only hope was that you’d wake up with morning sickness, and if you didn’t, he’d have no problem fucking you everyday till you did.
Sure enough, after 2 weeks of the both of you fucking like rabbits every damn day, you’d finally fallen pregnant with your first child, and you and Farleigh couldn’t be any happier.
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!
TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3
#saltburn#saltburn fic#saltburn smut#saltburn imagine#saltburn x reader#saltburn movie#farleigh x reader#farleigh saltburn#farleigh imagine#farleigh catton#farleigh start#saltburn posting#saltburn thoughts#saltburn film#stvolanis#oliver quick smut#felix catton smut#oliver quick#felix catton#saltburn x you
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oh my goodness ive had so many ideas running around my head about sub! & virgin! ghost and im so in love with your depictions of sub him.. just imagine he being so confused on why hes so painfully hard and he doesnt know what to do, he just wants his mommy help him out so desperately, and hes so confused why it feels so good when she wraps her hand around his length.. 🤭
ive never actually been an anon on your page before so hii
hii my lovely anon thank u for this request, read this and started gnawing on the bars of my enclosure this is so good YES! 💯 sub!virgin!ghost who never had or has time to rub one out, he doesn't know how to 'do it', per se, and he doubts it feels that good anyway - always cynical. he's far too busy to even think of anything like that and he doesn't wanna sit there and just rub it like he's stroking a dog or something. what if it doesn't feel good? what if his hands are dirty and he contracts some illness? he's always overthinking whilst he suffers another night of his painfully hard, fat cock straining his pants as he scrolls through your social media, seeing your pretty little smile and the clothes he's convinced you put on for him to see like minx. and here he is again, back at square one as he thrusts his hips around in his sheets, not daring to touch himself. and next thing he knows, you found out about all this and wanted to take care of your sweet boy. you are the only female figure in his life after all, why not help him? by this point, he's begging you to sit on his face, dominate him, ride him until he is an overstimulated, stupid mess. he's babbling how good your hand feels rubbing his lengthy cock whilst his eyes twitch in pleasure and his pretty brown eyes cross.
you don't let him cum, no not yet. you don't just wanna feel his warm cum drip down your fingers, what a waste. you wanna feel it drip down your belly, or the crease between your boobs - not just on your fingers. instead you climb atop his red leaky cock and sink down right onto it whilst your gummy walls stretch to accompany his girth. his eyes lock onto yours in pure adoration whilst his cock twitches and stretches inside your gummy walls. he loves being fucked by his mommy, a smart one you are. so experienced huh?
and each jagged, awkward thrust he pounds into you is followed by a weak; "am i being good for you? is this good love?" in need of reassurance. so when you cup his face, pouting and reassuring him, "yeah baby," his cum shoots right inside you :(, feels good having his mommy take care of him. but he feels so bad about coming without telling you yet, he was just so overstimulated with emotions he didn't know what to do or say, so he apologizes profusely and offers to get you off with his mouth until you're trembling against his tongue with your juices spread on his mouth, cheek and chin as he holds your waist longingly in hopes you'll say yes. (inspired by this video<3)
#call of duty#cod#k6tzie#simon ghost riley#cod mw2#cod headcanons#cod modern warfare#cod smut#mdni#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#sub ghost#virgin ghost#simon ghost riley smut#18+ mdni#minors do not interact#seriously minors go away#cod sub#cod simon riley#thank you anon#:)#hope you enjoy#working on other reqs please be patient
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Dbf!abby pt 2
contents: nsfw!! age gap (reader is early 20s Abby is mid-late 30!) risky sex! no descriptions of reader..? (I think) fingering, pt 2 to a post I’ve already made and won’t really make sense if you haven’t read pt 1? (technically you can read it w/o pt 1 tho)
pt 1 here!
summary: Abby fucks you while you, your father, and her are watching a movie together.
Wc: 1.5k?
proofread?: no babes sorry
A/n: some of this is quite literally copy and pasted from c.ai. I did not want to write this bc it’s boring. (Hence why it took literally a month to get out!) I hope it lives up to your dreams tho!
taglist: @seraphicsentences @tohoko
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She chuckled at your reaction, stepping away from you just as your dad opened the door. You could tell Abby was disappointed too, but the look in her eyes hadn't completely left.
"Ah, there you are! Come give your old man a hug."
Your dad called out to you, a big smile on his face. He hugged you tightly before looking at Abby.
‘hey dad! how was it?’ your dad replies, rambling on on about a stupid dinner party. To be completely honest you don’t remember half of the shit he was saying really. your eyes too focused on the tempting looks Abby was giving you from behind your fathers back. your heart jumping around in your chest. you’re sight stayed on Abby. bluring out your fathers useless talking. when he finished dragging on his spiel he ruffles your hair, Turing to look at Abby.
‘thanks for watching my little trouble maker, I really appreciate it’
your gaze turns to Abby, looking up at her figure you force your eyes into a puppy dog pout. you take your lip between your teeth, biting the flesh in your mouth. you wink.
‘yah abs, thanks for watching me.’
she rolled her eyes, annoyed at your teasing antics. but truthfully your making her go insane. fuck. she groans at your wink before giving you a warning look, silently telling you to cut it out..
‘yah it was no problem!” her words seem so genuine, a sweet smile flashed at your father before her face deadpans back to you. your father looked between the two of you. raising his eyebrow slightly. you turn to you’re dad giving him a questionable hum.
“Hm?” you act clueless. you can feel Abby’s gaze on you. feeling her eyes trail down your body. your dad seemed slightly suspicious but her jst laughed and let it go.
“nothing, nothing! but hey, Abby if you don’t have any plans, wanna watch a movie? you know all three of us! like old times!”
“what do u say abs? you down to stay a while?” you give her a look, a knowing, begging look.
she raised the corner of her mouth at this offer. her eyes drift from your father to you, then back to your dad.
“Yeah sure, I don’t see why not!” It’s not like she could ever deny you. you and your god damn puppy eyes. your pleading pathetic look. god you were so pretty to her.
“alright im going to go set up the movie.”
“alright daddy, call us in when it’s all set!” you watch your father walk out of the room, when he’s out of sight your catch your lip between your teeth before looking up at abs.
“your a bit of a brat, huh angel? you love teasing me infront of your dad don’t you? little minx.”
“mhm, you love it tho. the adrenaline of almost getting caught, don’t you abs?”
She chuckled and stepped closer to you, her eyes darkening with desire.
"You're very observant, aren't you? How about I test that theory?"
Abby whispered in a low, seductive tone. She ran her hand over your arm, feeling the goosebumps form on your skin. She leaned in, her lips only millimeters away from your ear.
“How about we make sure we don't get caught..?”
“yeah? but oh, what if we did. what if I ran and told daddy right now that his best friend was about to fuck his innocent little daughter? What would happens then abs.”
you say in a teasing, almost daring tone. She paused as you spoke, her eyes darkening even more at your teasing remark.
"Oh really, angel? You're testing me, huh? I'm sure your dad would love to see his daughter pinned against the wall, writhing and moaning because of me."
Abby smirked, her voice dripping with provocative undertones. your lips crash with hers, desperation winning. It was dangerous, your father just in the other room. But the thrill made it even hotter. Abby responded to your kiss passionately, her tongue eagerly slipping into your mouth. She pressed her body against yours, the adrenaline of getting caught making the moment even more intense. She felt your tongue against hers, the taste of you making her dizzy. Abby's hands found their way to your hips, her fingers digging into your skin. It was so dangerous, but so damn good. you hear your father call out from the other room, telling you the movie was set up. You slowly pull away from Abby, looking into her eyes. A string of spit connects your lips to hers. your hands dragging down to hers, pulling her in the living room.
“stay quite okay?”
You can feel her breathing heavy, her chest rising and falling. Her cheeks are flushed, lips parted and eyes darkened. Abby is practically speechless as you pull her into the living room. She nods slowly, her voice barely audible as she whispers.
“Okay."
you drag her into the living room plopping down on the couch. Patting the seat next to u. acting as if nothing happened in the room next door. Abby follows you, her heart racing. She takes a seat next to you, trying to compose herself and act nonchalant. Her eyes are fixated on the tv screen, but her body is still buzzing with the adrenaline from your encounter. She leans slightly towards you, her leg grazing against yours under the blanket. you pull her hand onto your thigh under the blanket, turning to her. She looks at you, feeling your touch send sparks through her body. Abby turns towards you too, her fingers tracing circles on your thigh under the blanket. She smiles softly at you, knowing damn well how risky this whole situation is. You drag her hand higher, closer to where you want her. hoping she takes the hint. She feels her heart race as her hand moves higher, her breath hitching. She glances at you, seeing the desire in your eyes. Abby moves even closer to you, leaning in so her breath tickles your ear.
“You're being quite daring tonight, angel. Do you enjoy the danger? Do you want us to get caught?"
you whisper into her ear
“maybe, maybe not. fuck around and find out.”
She shivers as your breath touches her ear, and your whispers send her heart racing even faster. Abby lets out a soft laugh, and her hand continues to move higher, getting closer to where you need it. She leans in close, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers back.
“You little... devil. You know what you're doing, don't you?"
“of course I do.” you giggle softly. you feel her hand palm your heat. the contact making you jump. you look at your father, he’s completely interested in the movie. paying no mind to the two of you. her fingers slide your sleep shorts to the side. her digits rubbing your cunt over your painties. you close your eyes, enjoying the pure bliss of what you’ve been wanting for so long. her fingers work at your cunt. feeling your slick build up on the cotton of your painties. you bite down on your lower lip. hard. holding back desperate little moans. how pathetic. her hand slides under your painties. feeling your slick flesh. you bite back a moan, bucking into her hands.
“shhh shh shhh, quite baby.” a low voice whispered into your ear. how the fuck were you supposed to be quiet when her fingers were slipping into your drooling pussy? she starts out with one finger. slowly pushing it into your clenched hole. then she adds another. you try to hide the fact your dads best friend was inside of you but it was kinda hard. your hand flings up to ur mouth when she curls her fingers into u. your gaze turns back to your father who’s falling asleep in his chair. her eyes remain on the tv. never breaking and never looking at you. she knows what she’s doing and refuses to look at you. under the blanket her digits pump in and out of your hole. faster and faster. you wiggle around in your seat. Practically dripping. you whimper slightly. causing Abby to stop completely. she looks at you with a piercing stare, her eyebrow raised.
“m’ sorry.” you whine quietly. and with that her fingers return their unforgiving pace. you feel yourself at the brink of your orgasm. you bite down on the back of your hand holding back your whimpers and moans. you squirm in your seat as you cum on her fingers. her eyes still never leave the tv as your cum all over her. Her digits work you through your orgasm. you struggle to keep quiet. You calm down from your high. looking at your dad to see if he heard your sad attempt to stay silent. he’s passed out. you turn to Abby who has a shit eating grin plastered across her face. you punch her playfully, rolling your eyes before laying your head on her shoulder.
“whats happening in the movie?”
“I don’t know I haven’t been watching”
“yes you have?”
“you think I can keep focus on a dumb movie when you look so cute trying to be quiet from me?”
A/n: this sucks. ilyyy!!!
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Can you tell us what happened when price found out that she had stolen his radio? In way too curious👀 love your content you are such a good writer 💞
oh boy. the radio. | continuation of this and this. this one got away from me. ~1.3k words. banner by @/cafekitsune.
tags: food, smidgen of dacryphilia, noncon, cockwarming, throatfucking.
price knows something happened. the moment steps inside, quiet, hoping to catch his wife off guard, he knows. after all, he expected to see his wife dutifully working on the cherry pie she promised to make if he allowed her to remain indoors. (she’s been on her best behavior since the flower bed incident.)
instead, he finds the pastry half-pressed into the tin and washed cherries abandoned in a bowl. beneath his ragged breathing, he hears sniffling from the hall. the washroom. at first, he thinks she hurt herself. but that’d be mighty difficult. all she has are her fingers and spoons to bake with. anything sharper is secured.
he edges down the hall, stopping at a faint crackling, and an even quieter voice.
— ...beg me again, sunshine, and maybe i won’t tell.
ah, nikolai. so the minx snooped around and found his radio. he’s half a mind to barge in and let nik listen in on his latest lesson. but with nik’s laughter mutedly echoing beyond the door, he gets another idea. he silently creeps out of the cottage, waits a few minutes, and then announces himself.
big, clomping steps. whistling a tune. sure enough, the missus hastily scrambles out of the bathroom, smoothing the borrowed shirt she wears—she hasn’t earned bottoms back quite yet, and she’ll probably lose tops now, too—and gives him a tight smile. ekes out an apology and explains she wasn’t feeling well, so she’s behind on baking.
and being a paragon of mercy, john merely drops a kiss to the top of her head and tells her he’s going to wash up.
(he suppresses a laugh at how stock-still she goes at that. poor thing clearly didn’t think that far ahead. probably hid the radio under the sink.)
he doesn’t even look for it when he rinses off. it doesn’t matter, because she’s not going to try it again.
john goes about the rest of his day, feigning cluelessness to his wife’s transgression. he lets her stew. like a guilt-ridden dog who wants its owner’s hand, like a penitent sweating in church. she unravels. more skittish than usual, flinching when he moves through the house, pretending not to stare when he lingers near the washroom.
at dinner, she squirms and barely lifts her eyes from her plate. pushes her food around. no appetite for your own cooking, darl? he teasingly admonishes. can’t let you have dessert if you don’t eat. and you worked so hard on that pie, didn’t you?
it’s the tipping point. the final straw. big, glossy tears flood her eyes and stream down her cheeks. her lip quivers, her chest heaves—she looks so damn pretty when she cries.
what’s the matter, sweetheart? c’mere.
he pushes back from the table and offers his arms.
she can’t refuse. it may be fear that guides her around the table, but it’s hope that plants her on his thigh. hope that he’ll forgive her. (he always will.) hope that he won’t punish her. (he always will.)
poor thing can’t get the words out, so john tucks her into his chest, and waits until she simmers. waits until he thinks she’s mustering the courage to confess.
this wouldn’t be about the radio, would it?
a beat, then a torrent of emotion. all that pent-up energy surges out in a rush of tears and babbling, fidgeting on his lap. to her credit, she skips denial this time and veers straight into confession. she apologizes profusely, curling her fingers in his shirt, beseeching him to not be mad. he’s not. blood rushes south, molten as he swipes a thumb over her wet cheek.
serve me a slice of pie, darl.
the confusion that passes over her face doesn’t stop her feet from moving. he adjusts himself while her back is turned and scoots his chair in. she hovers after setting the plate down, sniffling.
he digs in. the crust crumbles, giving way to a burst of tart sweetness of cherries. juices mingling with cinnamon and vanilla. not too different from his wife. complex and piquant. a tasty thing in need of refinement and experienced hands. wherever she’s from, she’s clearly accustomed to running wild.
with a crook of his finger, she sinks to her knees just as he sinks his fork into another bite. he spreads his legs to let her crawl between them, eager for the forgiveness that only comes from his cock. once he’s freed, hot and heavy in her palm, he tempers her zeal, holding fast to the roots of her hair.
just hold it in that mouth an’ savor it. s’all the dessert you’re gettin’.
john’s grip loosens as her mouth sheathes his cock, not bothering to shove her down yet. there’s pie to eat, his favorite, and he plans to relish every bite. take his time eating. he luxuriates in the warm heat of her mouth, the twitches of her tongue against the underside of his cock, pinned flat and pliant. feels her subtly negotiate the muscle and organ for better airflow. soft puffs from her nose. drool gradually leaking from the seal of her mouth, dampening his hair.
she flinches when the fork clatters onto the plate and again when he leans back. he groans at the sight of her. tears and snot and spit mess her pretty face. his cock throbs at how debauched she looks already. her soft lips cushioning him in a gentle hold, slick and shiny. her eyebrows curve up in question. a useless one.
his free hand joins the first in her hair and yanks. burrows his cock as far as it’ll go in one swift motion. the sensation of her throat immediately constricting, the jumping panic—it sends a bolt of pleasure down his spine. he holds her nose flush to him for a prolonged moment, admiring the view and picturing the spots dancing in her vision. her fists curl against his knees. she knows better than to hammer them.
he gives her no more time to acclimate. it is a punishment, after all. it’s supposed to hurt. supposed to be scary. something hard and cruel to make her appreciate all he’s done. his endless kindnesses. nik might’ve collected her, but she’s his responsibility now. No life for her outside these walls, outside of him.
this how it’s gonna have to be? Hm? Am i gonna have to keep this mouth busy?
his hips roll off the chair, hands engulfing the back and sides of her head. each thrust pulls a wet gag, sputtering whines and whimpers. his bucking grows more erratic as he chases release, throwing himself after the tight coil in his belly. the chair scrapes. his heels dig in. her face disappears in the thatch of hair. padding for a soft landing after a mean push.
long, thick spurts to paint her traitorous mouth and obliging throat.
that’s it, that’s it. don’t waste—none of that, keep those eyes open.
he snarls, cock pulsing as the last of his cum spills. waits until he’s soft, gritting through the stimulation to prolong the indignity. to watch her cry a little more and listen to the garbled apologies. the ingrained gratitudes.
don’t speak with your mouth full, sweetheart. he says as he pulls out with a pop. reaches down as she sucks in air, pulls on the front of her apron until it gives, and wipes his cock. holds it like a leash while she sits on her haunches, cleaning her mouth with her hands.
john doesn’t excuse her from the table yet. tucking himself away, he holds her watery gaze, and the claw where his heart’s supposed to be uncurls a fraction.
what am i gonna do with you? he opens his palm on his knee and turns it palm up. her cheek presses to it automatically.
are you ever gonna try the radio again? he chuckles fondly when she shakes her head against his hand. good. i like your tongue too much to cut it out.
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Maybe headcanons for kinktober for daddy/mommy kink? Like you did with petplay 🥺
(if it's possible, don't include mentions of actual pregnancy or kids, pls)
I don't write for kids or pregnancy so I got you lol lotta head cannon requests coming out 🤔
I'd also like to say I don't see Mommy/Daddy in a kinky way as gendered. Example I prefer to be called daddy and would barf being called mommy. I've seen Dommy be used as a gender neutral version but please just insert what you prefer as I won't specify
Mommy/Daddy Kinks with the JJK Characters
(Head Cannons)
Ft ~ Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Ryoumen Sukuna, Choso, Takuma Ino, Shiu Kong, Uraume, Yuki Tsukumo, Shoko Ieiri, Mahito Kink ~ Mommy/Daddy Synopsis ~ How the JJK Characters feel about Mommy/Daddy Kink Content Warning ~ 18+, mommy/daddy kink. Idk adult stuff
Gojo ~
"I'll be you're sugar daddy baby cakes."
Being Called or Calling: Both. He'll call himself daddy or mommy depending on what he does. If he makes dinner he'll ask if mommy did good just to get a reaction and will call you one just because he can. General Feelings: Uses it more as a joke than sexual. Doesn't feel strongly about it one way it the other, doesn't mind if you use it and will use it but is okay not to
Geto ~
"Tell daddy what you want."
Being Called or Calling: Loves it when you call him daddy. Might reciprocate the nickname but wants you to call him daddy General Feelings: Will basically bust a nut if you call him daddy. It drives him FERAL to be called daddy
Nanami ~
"Is that so darling?"
Being Called or Calling: Both. If you call him daddy he'll reciprocate in kind because he prefers a more equal relationship dynamic General Feelings: He does enjoy it but it won't drive him crazy. Just enjoys any nickname you give him
Toji ~
"Yeah? Whose you're daddy?"
Being Called or Calling: He wants to be called Daddy. He'll probably also give you the nickname because he likes to match (he'll never tell you that though) General Feelings: LOVES it. Call him daddy and he'll bark like a dog and make sure you can't walk the next day
Sukuna ~
"I'm not your father."
Being Called or Calling: Neither. Won't use it and won't be called it General Feelings: HATES it. He would prefer names like Lord, king, or master, but doesn't like daddy. In turn he wouldn't call you it either because you're Minx. That's it
Choso ~
"Please! Please! Please!"
Being Called or Calling: You're being called the nickname General Feelings: Immediately melts, drooling and panting. Will call you almost exclusively by this term when in bed. Will immediately give him a hard on
Ino ~
"Is that so babe?"
Being Called or Calling: Both. If you call him daddy he'll reply in kind. Same if you call him mommy. He'll just call you the opposite to what you call him. General Feelings: Surprised by his much he likes it. Will fake moan after you call him daddy/mommy. It's not necessarily sexual for him but he does enjoy it
Shiu ~
"Be good for daddy, yeah?"
Being Called or Calling: Likes being called it. Unlikely to call you it too but would if you asked General Feelings: Makes him chuckle, but he does like it. He's always happy to take a dominant role (brat tamer coded) so the nickname pleases him
Uraume ~
"Do you like that?"
Being Called or Calling: You're getting the nickname, Uraume would refuse any version of it General Feelings: Really likes calling you by the nickname. It is absolutely sexual though and that's how they tell you they're in the mood
Yuki ~
"Open for Mommy."
Being Called or Calling: DOMMY MOMMY CODED. Wants to be called Mommy. She's the only one that gets this nickname General Feelings: Froths for it. Will jump you IMMEDIATELY if you call her mommy
Shoko ~
"Am I mommy or daddy?"
Being Called or Calling: Both and both names. She likes it when you mix up what one you call her General Feelings: Is amused by it. Doesn't necessarily get turned on by it but she does enjoy the nickname exchange
Mahito ~
"Just tell me what to do."
Being Called or Calling: You're about to get a new name. Will basically exclusively call you by it too, your actual name and pet names be damned General Feelings: Thoroughly likes it. Not even in a sexual way just in the fact you're taking the lead. Anything where he can give you control makes him happy
About the Kink: Mommy/Daddy Kink is not inherently an age play kink but a Dominant Submissive kink. This is generally a power dynamic Kink where Mommy or Daddy is in charge and the other participant is in a submissive role. How to Practice the Kink Safely:
With any kink it's important to have a safe word, action and sound. The action is in case it's not possible to be verbal. The sound is incase it's not possible to make words or move. Pick something easy to remember and wouldn't come up naturally. Eg. Red, 3 fast taps, 3 repeating grunts
This is a type of power dynamic play and should be able to be turned on and off. A phrase or signal to initiate. There isn't anything inherently dangerous about this kink, it should simply be known that this isn't a permanent dynamic but a roleplay esk one. Ensure both parties are still willing and eager participants, and have fun.
#jjk#jjk smut#kinktober#mommy/daddy kink#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk choso#jjk geto#jjk gojo#jjk ino#jjk nanami#jjk shiu#jjk toji#jjk sukuna#jjk uraume#jjk shoko#jjk yuki#jjk mahito
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content afab!reader, chubby!reader, josh and reader are in an established relationship, cunnilingus
note(s) until dawn is actually a game about a polycule falling out | sam is just kinda there but both josh and reader thinks shes fine af
Josh’s voice is soft as he calls up to Sam. You’re spread out on the sectional couch listening to their short conversation as Josh tends to the fireplace in front of you. The television above drones on quietly in the background. Stretching you blink slowly at him, Sam’s response coming back after a short pause.
“I’m going to take a quick shower before we head out.”
“Oh, well, do you need any help? Maybe with your hair?”
The last comment is a mumble and you scoff making your way over to the minx. When he finally notices your presence you lightly smack his chest with the back of your hand. He feigns hurt with a well-placed hand over his wounded heart.
“What, you want me to go up there and ask her to join us?”
His eyelids widen for a moment before relaxing.
“Really?”
“As if, like you’d be able to focus”
Honestly, Sam is gorgeous and you wouldn't mind her joining your personal soiree. Unfortunately for you, Josh gets distracted easily and your last threesome ended with you unsatisfied after he got overwhelmed. Dancing your fingers over his shoulder blade you take in the heat dancing in the air. Pulling yourself away you plop back down onto the couch and bounce a little as you settle in. Dragging a blanket over your lap you feel the fluffiness beneath your fingertips. The loft feels nice and cozy especially with the autumn chill settling over the city. Making his way over to your spot he crouches in front of you with a wolfish grin. Pulling the blanket slowly off your legs you watch him with thin lips. Keeping your protests to yourself as you assess exactly what his plan is. Finally, he leaves the blanket in a pile on the floor next to him. With gentle hands on your knees, he starts slowly pushing them apart so he can watch your dress slide up your thighs.
“Joshua Washington I didn't spend hours getting ready just for you to undo it all with this spiked libido.”
He gives you a simple chuckle and kisses the inside of your plush thigh. Huffing you shift to give him better access. He licks a stripe from his spot against your skin to your lace bottoms. A cute black thong he bought you for your anniversary months ago. Something you didn't have a chance to wear until now. And he absolutely loved it. He gives you a little growl as he creates a wet spot right against your clothed pussy. You want to argue with him, claim if he does this you’ll have to take a shower and you three will be late for dinner. A weekly occurrence, something Josh would rather die than miss. You know better. He won’t leave a mark that you don’t beg him to. Once his spit soaks through you're panting like a dog in heat. Something something he has you wrapped around his finger. Whatever quote Emily scoffs at you every time you have to hang up because he's grinding against your full ass. You couldn't care less, especially when he starts hitting that sweet spot deep in you. Hooking his thumbs into the legs of the lace you raise your hips to allow him easier removal of the infuriating fabric. Once he pulls them down around your ankles he claps his hands together excitement glowing in his brilliant irises.
“Here’s Joshy”
“Did you just quote Psycho at my vagina?”
He immediately looks at you genuinely appalled.
“You're not being serious.”
“You know I can never sit through those old movies, they have such long intros.”
“I really don’t know if we can continue. Psycho. God”
“Josh, I’m sorry I got Psycho and The Shining mixed up. If it’s any consolation I was thinking of the 1960 version and not that Bates Motel shit I know you hate.”
He takes a moment to think it over before responding. A long moment too and it has you shifting.
“You saved yourself with that.”
He taps his pointer finger against your knee during his response. Diving forward his tongue easily finds your clit. Surprise and pleasure flood your veins at the same time and it leaves you lightheaded. Gripping a fistful of dark hair at the back of his head you press him closer to your core. Forcing two fingers beneath his chin he slips them inside your soaked core. Wiggling them he’s limited in the amount of room he has to thrust. Focusing on using the tips of his fingers he slightly moves them in and out while pressing hard against that spongy part inside of you.
“Oh~ Josh, fuck.”
“I got you, babe.”
His voice is muffled but you hear him clear as a bell. Huffing you weakly grind yourself against his face feeling his prominent nose press against the fat of your lower stomach. Letting your head fall back against the back of the couch you relish in the moment. Pleasure floods your abdomen and you can feel it tighten as you get closer to release. He alternates between short licks and hard sucks. Something that works in his favor as the coil in your abdomen finally snaps and you flood his chin and fingers in your essence. Panting you leave your eyes closed for a few moments as you attempt to catch your breath. Pulling out of you with a slick pop you nearly jump out of your skin as something pops against your chest. Blinking, you see Sam handing Josh a towel for his soaked limbs. Looking down you take the fresh pair of underwear in your hands and slip it around your ankles. Grabbing the towel out of the air as Josh tosses it to you you take a moment to clean yourself up before pulling the dark blue thong up your legs and settling it snugly against you. Fixing your dress you give Sam an apologetic smile.
“Hope you two worked up an appetite.”
#something short because i used to have this reoccurring dream about him#until dawn#until dawn smut#josh washington#josh washington smut#josh washington x reader#josh washington x you#sombrashe writes
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I have this image in my head of the boys teasing trouble with Peter around, and he doesn't really do anything because it's all playful, and he knows she doesn't care– but I can imagine that one day trouble decides she 'had enough' or maybe just wanted some quiet (she's not actually bothered, she's just a little minx) and kind of like, said Peter's name in a small voice—maybe she buried her head into him to really get him where it hurts—after they made some comments, and Peter instantly tells them to back off a little. Imagine trouble looking over at them smugly when Peter wasn't looking.
I feel like she pulls the Peter card with them whenever she can, just because. And I feel like Ethan was the first she used it on so he doesn't really do anything of the sorts anymore, and just sits back and watches as trouble causes trouble.
<3
— 🩰
*cleaning out my inbox.*
HOOEIWBFOEB YESSSS YES
imagine everyone was dogging on tarrent and you joined right in.
'seriously, it looks like something my grandma would wear.'
'what would you know about women's fashion? you only buy clothes to throw them on parker's floor.' the crowd softly oo's, you almost crack a smile yourself at ethan's clapback. instead you play smarter.
you tuck your head against peter and softly pout when you call for him. 'peter.' he wraps his arm around your back and barks at ethan. 'cut the shit, keznek.'
you peek an eye open and poke your tongue out at ethan, he whines and points at your expression. 'she's making it all up!' you hug your boyfriend tightly, 'peter.'
'leave her alone. all of you.' you give another sneer, tarrent looks proud. ethan holds his grimace and you keep your guard dog in your back pocket.
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Tethered.
The lines of friendship blur when you’re this close. Also known as - each of the times you’ve kissed Benny, Frankie, Santiago and Will.
Pairing - Benny Miller, Frankie Morales, Santiago Garcia, Will Miller x female reader
Age Rating - 18+
Warnings - Cursing, sexual content, mentions of sobriety
Word Count - 5523
Author's Note - by popular demand!! thank you to everyone who voted in the poll, it was so helpful!! don't worry, there is still a stewy hosseini fic coming very soon. i love writing for the triple frontier boys, so if anyone has any requests or particular thoughts, please send them my way. i'm also a total will girly, if you couldn't tell. as always, lots of love <3
my other triple frontier fics - Time, Tranquility and Home Is Where The Heart Is.
Masterlist. Requests.
Will’s strong hand rubs steady circles into your thigh under the table as you all hunch over laughing.
Benny’s telling the story of his bad date from the night before. The combination of his masterful storytelling and the whiskey that seems to be refilling itself is making you giddy, all of you high on the joy of being with your best friends. There’s no feeling quite like it, laughing until you cry.
“Wait, that doesn’t explain why she slapped you!” Santiago exclaims from opposite you, clapping Benny on the back.
“She slapped me because, it turns out, I’d kissed her best friend a few months ago. She called me a dog and everything,” he laughs, tears escaping from his eyes. “She had a strong hand!”
“Did you know who she was when you saw her?” Frankie asks, genuinely intrigued.
“I realised as soon as I sat down. I didn’t know it’d be a problem! Man, fuck blind dates,” Ben chuckles.
“Am I crazy for not seeing the issue here?” Santiago asks, looking around the table.
“I didn’t see it either, apparently. It’s not like me and Lucy ever went anywhere. It was just a kiss.” Benny’s face is scrunched up in confusion. It makes you want to smooth your thumb over the crease between his brows.
“She was giving me the look, I swear,” he continues. “So I went in for the kiss, and she hit me.”
The boys are all laughing again, and as guilty as you feel, you can’t help but join them. Benny has such an animated, expressive face, that even the most boring of stories are entertaining when being told by him. It’s a gift. He just has a way with people.
“What do you think, hermosa?” Santiago asks, looking at you pointedly. “Would you kiss someone your best friend has kissed?”
“I don’t know,” you reply carefully. “Depends on the situation, I guess. I’d try not to, I think.”
Will’s looking at you with amusement in his eyes, slight smirk on his face. It’s clear that no one is putting the pieces together.
“Would you, Santi?” you question, lips quirking up at the corners.
“Probably not. I’d avoid it, if possible,” he replies.
The whiskey is making you braver than usual, a warm buzz running through your veins. Without thinking, you laugh,
“Too late.”
Everyone looks at you, brows raised in confusion. Will’s grinning now, chuckling to himself quietly. You’re giggling at their faces, their naivety making you smile.
You watch as Frankie looks slowly around the table, and then back at you. Shaking his head, he catches your eyes and snickers.
“Minx,” he mutters, still smiling.
“Am I missing something here?” Benny asks, surveying the silent communication happening between you, Frankie and Will.
You sigh sarcastically and throw your drink back, downing it in one go. Well, we’re doing this, you think.
“I’ve kissed every single person at this table,” you start. “Which means you’ve all kissed the same girl your best friend has kissed.”
Santiago and Benny go silent for a moment, processing this new information. Will and Frankie are still smiling, already a step ahead.
“Wait, what?” Santiago finally speaks. “You have?”
“Oh no. Pope thought he was special,” Frankie laughs, head thrown back.
“Stop it, Francisco! You are special, Santi. It just so happens that they are too.”
You point generally at the other boys, all of them with their eyes fixed on you. You can see that Benny is still figuring things out, the alcohol making his brain work slower than usual.
“I’ve known you guys for years. We’ve been through a lot together. And you’re like, the four most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen! It was bound to happen sooner or later,” you justify.
Everyone’s laughing now, the final piece finally being put into the jigsaw. You can tell they’re all thinking back to their kisses – you are too.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
Benny had been the first one to kiss you.
It happened right at the beginning of his boxing career. He’d started working out religiously, meal planning, prepping for his first big fight. He set strict rules for himself – no alcohol, no women, no sex. You were glad he’d found an output for his energy, glad he was taking something so seriously – even if the idea of him getting hurt did terrify you.
The four of you had gone to support him, eager to see him win after months of watching him train and prepare. He’d really committed to the process, which was a surprise – Benny was a notorious ladies man. He loved to relax with a beer. But he’d never broken his self-made rules, not once. No matter the outcome of the fight, you were insanely proud of him. All of you were.
The atmosphere in the warehouse was electric. It was a big venue, with hundreds of people gathering to spectate. You hadn’t realised this was such a popular event. Adrenaline buzzed through the air, making you antsy with anticipation. You and the boys had front row seats by the ring, allowing you the perfect view, the ideal place to support Ben.
“I’m gonna go get us some beers,” Santiago yells over the noise.
“I’ll come help you,” you shout back, linking your hand into his so you don’t get separated.
You make your way out of the double doors and down the hallway in attempt to find the bar. On the journey, you spot a sign that points to the locker rooms.
“You order, I’ll be right back,” you tell Santiago, before following the directions.
You push open the door and step into the locker room. Benny is sat on the bench, headphones blasting music so loud you can hear it from 10 feet away. You make your way over, and touch him on the shoulder gently. He doesn’t startle.
“I don’t want to disturb you, Ben. Just wanted to say good luck,” you say quietly.
He grabs your wrist and pulls you to sit next to him.
“You could never disturb me, honey. You’re my good luck charm,” he winks, and the cheekiness of it warms your chest.
He pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you, breathing in the scent of your strawberry shampoo. You inhale with him, and soak up the heat that’s seeping into your skin.
“It doesn’t matter what happens out there,” you tell him. “I’ll love you no matter what.”
You press a kiss to his cheek, and throw a beaming smile at him before leaving. You find Santi at the bar, and help him carry the beers back to the boys.
You’ve never seen this side of Benny. He’s throwing and dodging punches like it’s second nature. The man moves like ocean waves, fluid and constant, never once caught off guard. There’s a lot to be said about the pastime of men fighting each other, but honestly, Ben has found his calling.
Electricity crackles through the air as Benny swings his last punch. His opponent falls to the mat as you rise from your seats. All of you instantly begin screaming, roars of celebration filling the space. Ben throws his fist in the air, signalling his victory. It’s rare, this feeling. The five of you don’t win very often. This needs to be savoured.
Eventually, the cheering dies down, and Benny leaves the ring to go and get changed. The boys are all ecstatic, chattering with pride in their voices about their brother, their teammate, their best friend.
“Be right back,” you tell them, moving to slip out of the doors and down the hallway.
You strut into the locker room, eyes scanning the space for the man you’re looking for. You find him stood, unwrapping his hands. Before you know it, you’re running into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he spins you. His bare chest is dripping with sweat. He’s covering you in it, but you couldn’t care less. You’re both laughing, joy and love filling the air.
“I’m so proud of you,” you breathe into his neck, still in his arms. Your feet finally find the floor, and you lean back slightly to stare up at him.
“Couldn’t have done it without you, pretty girl,” he beams at you.
You can feel the energy coursing through his veins. He’s thrumming with it, buzzing with adrenaline – it feels like he’s going to burst. He’s practically vibrating.
Before you can even register what’s happening, Benny pulls you back to him, smashing his lips onto yours. He skims his hands down your back to grab at the backs of your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly. You wrap your legs around his waist and press yourself into him.
The kiss is needy, desperate, pulsing - all teeth and tongue. Benny walks you backwards to slam you against the lockers, using the pressure of his body to lean forward into you. Your hands thread through his hair, pulling forcefully. He groans, deep and guttural, and it’s one of the most gorgeous sounds you’ve ever heard.
He’s grabbing at your ass as he dips his head down to leave open mouthed kisses on your neck, biting at the column of your throat. Your dress is practically around your waist, and you roll your hips forward, searching for friction. It’s your turn to groan now.
“Fuck, honey,” he murmurs. “Prettiest sound I’ve ever heard.”
He holds you up with one arm, and moves the other hand to twist into the waistband of your underwear. He’s pulling them down when someone bangs on the door, startling you both.
“Benny! Champion! Get out here, man, or we’re coming in!”
It’s Will’s voice, that deep tone instantly recognisable.
You pull your lips from Benny’s, your head dropping back against the locker with a clang.
“Shit,” he chuckles, gently pressing a kiss to your sternum.
“Shit,” you repeat, giggling gently.
Benny puts you down carefully, smoothing down your dress with those big hands of his. He fixes your hair next, sweetly moving it out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. He runs his thumb under your bottom lip, wiping where your lipstick has smudged.
“Do we look like we just made out?” you ask him, amusement evident in your tone.
“You do. I look like I just won a fight.”
He smiles at you, and you can’t help but smile back. God, this man. One minute he’s got you whining against the lockers, and the next he’s got you giggling like a schoolgirl.
“Come on,” you urge. “They’re gonna come busting in here any second.”
Right on cue, the door swings open, three men barrelling inside. They all jump on Benny, ruffling his hair and pulling him into a headlock affectionately. You watch from a short distance away, smile still etched on your face. You love them so much you’re worried your heart is going to burst out of your chest.
You look at Will, and find him smirking at you. Always a step ahead. Frankie grabs your wrist and pulls you into their celebrations. You’re being thrown around like you’re in some sort of whirlpool, dizzy with the joy of being with your best friends. You wouldn’t change a thing, even if you are a little lightheaded.
You catch eyes with Benny, and he winks. You know that the events of tonight aren’t going to change anything between the two of you. Your friendship is so solid, you’re convinced it can withstand anything. The five of you are connected, somehow. This unexplainable, invisible tether, binding you wherever you go. The kind of friendship that they write books about.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
Frankie was the next person to kiss you.
Or maybe you kissed him. You’re still not sure.
The five of you were at a bar downtown, drinking and laughing. The boys were a few beers deep, muscles relaxing and minds quietening.
But not Frankie.
When he’d made the decision to get sober, he’d included everything. He wasn’t a man who believed in partially sober, or ‘California sober’. If he was going to commit, he was going to commit fully. Alcohol included.
Usually, it didn’t bother him. He could go to bars with his friends, happily crack open beers for them when they watched a football game, make a mean margarita when they hung out at his pool in the summer. But that night, he was on edge. He didn’t know why, couldn’t pinpoint any reason specifically, but he was on overdrive. His mind wouldn’t slow down - thoughts barrelling into him at a hundred miles an hour. He was debating going home to bed, before realising that he was designated driver. So, he’d sat back in his seat, taken a deep breath, and tried to pretend like he wasn’t about to combust.
You’d noticed. Of course you had. You, with your observant eyes, your careful gaze, your genuine smile. You’d noticed.
Will had too. He was keeping an eye on Frankie from across the booth, but he wasn’t worried. He knew you were watching him like a hawk. That reassured Will to no end.
“Oh yeah? Come on then, old man, put your money where your mouth is!” Benny’s yelling at Santiago, grabbing him by the bicep, up and out of his chair. You watch as he drags him over to the pool table, determined to prove himself.
No matter where you were, or what you were doing, somehow, Benny and Santiago always managed to turn it into a competition. You, Will and Frankie were always happy to watch – you usually ended up playing referee, only interfering when someone cheated or got too rowdy.
The two of them began setting up a game, leaving you at the booth with the other two.
“I’m gonna get some air,” Frankie says suddenly, standing up and making his way out of the door.
Will gives you a look of concern.
“I got it. Just make sure those two idiots don’t kill each other with pool cues, please,” you joke.
Will chuckles and nods, squeezing your waist as you move past him to follow Frankie.
Outside, you find him around the side of the bar, leaning against the brick wall. He’s breathing heavily, clearly trying to get a handle on things. You watch as he takes off his hat and runs his fingers through his hair. He slides down the wall, sitting on the cool ground, legs bent in front of him.
You walk over and sit down next to him, ignoring the feeling of the cold concrete underneath your bare legs. You lean into him slightly, placing your head on his shoulder. He breathes you in, and you feel some of the tension melt from his muscles.
Eventually, you speak.
“You okay?”
He wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in closer.
“Yeah, cariño, I’m okay,” he murmurs. “I’m usually fine in bars, it doesn’t bother me. Guess I’m just anxious tonight.”
You hum in understanding, before realising something.
“What’s today’s date?”
He looks at you with puzzlement written all over his face, but answers you anyway.
“March 16th.”
“Happy one year of sobriety, Francisco.”
You can see it all clicking into place in his head. The reason he’s been on pins all day, the reason he’s been so wound up tonight, unable to settle. You figured it out before he could. Clever girl.
“And I’m celebrating it in a bar, apparently. How appropriate,” he laughs. It’s a real, hearty, genuine laugh. You love when he laughs like this – so hard that he starts wheezing. It’s so endearing, it makes you want to cry.
“I can’t believe I forgot. A year ago, it was like, the biggest milestone ever. And I forgot.”
You can tell he’s almost disappointed with himself. But you’re not. No, quite the opposite, actually.
“You see how great that is though, right?” you ask him. “You’re so busy living your life now, working, being the best dad ever, that you didn’t even have to think about it. It’s not a bad thing that you forgot about it, Frankie.”
He pulls you closer, both arms wrapped around you, your head pressed into the crook of his neck.
“How do you do it, hermosa?”
“Do what?”
“Always know exactly what to say.”
“Years of knowing you, probably. Years of loving you,” you answer.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, but you hear him clear as day.
“No, I don’t deserve you. I’m so proud of you, Francisco.”
He pulls away from you to look at you earnestly. He smiles at you, and you grin back at him. If love could lift you up, you’d be floating, both of you levitating with it.
Frankie leans in closer to you, and you mirror the movement. You’re not sure who kisses who, but suddenly his lips are on yours, his hands moving to cradle your face. It’s careful, and it’s gentle, and it’s so full of gratitude and history that it takes everything in you not to break out into a grin. One of his hands moves through your hair as the other one caresses your cheek. You can’t remember the last time you were kissed so tenderly. Neither can he.
Unbeknownst to you, Will has come out to check on you both. He stops in his tracks when he sees the two of you wrapped up in each other. His heart swells in his chest, and he can’t help but smile. He knows that this won’t change anything between you and Frankie. It’s just the comfort he needed – you both needed. He makes his way back inside quietly, grateful for the both of you and the way you look after each other.
Eventually, you both pull apart. Frankie rests his forehead on yours, and takes the first full breath he’s taken all day. His shoulders relax, his jaw unclenches. He’s okay, thanks to you.
“Thank you, cielito,” he murmurs.
“For what?”
“Everything. Knowing me better than I know myself. Knowing all of us better than we know ourselves.”
“Someone’s gotta keep you all alive,” you grin, and he chuckles, the vibration of it settling into your bones, warming you up from the inside out.
He pulls you back against his side, wrapping his arms around you. You both sit against the red brick, cold ground underneath you, for what feels like hours.
“There they are!” Santiago yells when he spots you both.
“Mom, Dad, can we go home?” Benny jokes, clearly down one drink too many.
“Of course we can, baby,” you smile, pulling Frankie to his feet with you.
You all clamber into Frankie’s truck – you riding shotgun, the other boys crammed in the back. You reach for your drivers hand, and interlace your fingers, resting your palms in your lap. You hold onto him all the way home, and can’t help but notice how much lighter he seems.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
Santiago kissed you next.
The five of you were having a pool day at Frankie’s, trying to cool down in the Texan summer heat. It was rare, for all of you to have the same day off, so you planned to make the most of it.
The four boys were already in the backyard when you arrived. Letting yourself in, you made your way through the house, briefly stopping in the kitchen to put your popsicles in the freezer. You’d purposely picked the strawberry ones, knowing they were Frankie’s daughters favourite. She was at her mom’s house for the week, but you knew she’d be back at the weekend.
“Hey, honey!” Benny yells when he spots you at the back door.
All of them turn to look at you, and you’re slightly taken aback by all the golden skin on display. Benny is wearing swim shorts with an inseam that can’t be any more than 5 inches, strong thighs just begging to be bitten. Will’s navy shorts compliment his blond hair beautifully, and Santiago’s green ones bring out the dark brown of his eyes. Frankie still has his shirt on, but it hugs his biceps just right. Damn, you think. I might just have the most attractive best friends in the world.
They’re all grinning at you as you survey each of them. You know they don’t mind being ogled just a little.
“Eyes up here, princess,” Santiago teases, no seriousness whatsoever in his voice. You scoff and throw your head back in a laugh, all of them simultaneously joining you in your amusement.
You put down your bag and kick off your shoes, before grabbing the hem of your dress.
“Give us a show, Miss Supermodel,” Benny whistles, winking playfully.
You peel your dress over your head slowly, wiggling your hips as you go. You’re left in a little black bikini that admittedly doesn’t leave much to the imagination. You don’t mind. You’re safe here.
They’re all whistling and cheering, make you laugh. You never feel more appreciated than when you’re with these boys. It’s everything. They’re everything.
“It’s like Sports Illustrated in real life,” Frankie grins, bumping your shoulder with his.
“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” Will says quietly when you catch his gaze. You roll your eyes playfully, but smile at him genuinely, silently thanking him.
Your eyes flicker to Santiago. He has a look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. It’s more than his usual appreciation. It’s hungry, hot, burning. It makes your skin prickle, the hairs on your neck standing up. You have to get away from his stare before you jump his bones right in Frankie’s backyard.
“Want me to make you a margarita?” Frankie asks, innocently breaking through the moment.
“Yes, please. That sounds amazing.”
He smiles at you before retreating to the kitchen, Benny following him in search of beer.
The heat doesn’t ease up all day. It’s sweltering, covering you all in a sheen of sweat that can’t seem to be wiped away.
Santiago’s gaze doesn’t help your warmth. Every time you look over, he’s surveying you carefully, eyes raking over your body in a way that makes your breathing quicken. There’s always been chemistry between you, sure. You have chemistry with all of the boys. But it’s never been like this with Santiago. Yes, you flirt with each other – it’s in both of your natures. But this is different. This is real.
You spend all day lounging around. Frankie keeps you topped up with margaritas as you make trips in and out of the pool, messing around with the boys. Benny hoists you up onto his shoulders in the water, throwing you up into the air as high as he can and laughing when you splash back down. You and Will throw a ball back and forth, doubling over when he overshoots and hits Frankie, who’s soaking up the sun in a lawn chair. In the late afternoon, Frankie fires up the grill, preparing to barbeque for dinner.
“Pope, you gonna help me?” he shouts from the deck.
Santiago looks at you, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, before joining him. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. There’s anticipation bubbling at the pit of your stomach, butterflies swirling. Warmth has settled in your core, and Santi’s heated glances are only fuelling the fire.
The sun finally gives you some respite in the early evening. You all settle on the grass, drinks in hand, laughing about nothing and everything. Benny’s telling you about his next fight, describing his opponent in hilarious detail. You look down, and realise your glass is empty.
“I’m gonna get a refill. Anyone want anything?” you ask, smiling as you watch Benny jokingly pretend to box his brother.
“Can you grab me a beer, princesa?” Santiago asks, pointed gaze trained on you.
You nod and make your way inside, praying that it’s cooler in the kitchen. The sun might have gone in, but the warmth in your core hasn’t left.
You reach into the fridge for the jug of margaritas that Frankie made earlier. You’re rising onto your tiptoes to fetch a new glass from the top of the cabinet when you feel a presence against your back. Santiago grabs one from the shelf and places it on the counter in front of you, leaning forward as he does it. His lips are brushing the shell of your ear, and you shudder out a breath.
“So you’re feeling it too, mi amor?” he murmurs.
“Yes,” you breathe. You’re worried you might combust if he keeps speaking to you in that deep, low, raspy tone of his.
“Don’t know what’s gotten into me. Can’t keep my eyes off you,” he whispers. He feels a shiver wrack through your body and chuckles.
You turn around to face him, and he steps forward, caging you in against the counter, arms on either side of you. You can’t go anywhere. You don’t want to.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he practically purrs.
He runs his thumb across your bottom lip, testing the waters. You catch it with your teeth and pull it into your mouth, biting down gently before sucking, not once breaking eye contact. He groans and tilts his head back, exposing his throat to you. You tangle a hand in the hair at the nape of his neck, and give him a look that says I dare you.
Santiago surges forward to capture your lips with his. It’s desperate and needy - a perfect representation of both of your states all day. He slips a strong thigh between your legs and pushes upward, making you whine. You’re pressing yourself into him, trying to get as close as possible. His hands are everywhere all at once – your hips, your hair, your back, your ass. He wants to feel all of you, and can’t decide where to start.
You feel drunk off of him as he kisses you. His tongue is making you melt, his steady hands the only thing keeping you upright. You could kiss him like this for hours, surrendering yourself to this man you call your best friend. This man you’ll love forever.
You’re so lost in each other that you don’t notice Will entering the kitchen. He clocks the situation in front of him and tries to exit silently, walking backwards out the way he came in. He knocks into the recycling bin, startling you and Santiago, causing you to jump apart and hit your head on the cabinet behind you.
“Shit, sweetheart, you okay?” Will asks, genuine concern etched on his face.
Santiago cradles the back of your head as he looks at you, eyes searching yours for any signs of pain.
“I’m good, I’m good, don’t worry,” you reassure them.
Will smirks at you and winks cheekily before he leaves, grabbing a beer on his way out.
“Oh god,” you groan, leaning forward to rest your head against Santiago’s chest. He strokes your hair lovingly, a laugh rumbling through him.
You both know Will isn’t going to say anything. He’s the most trustworthy one of them all. Always observing, never gossiping.
“Love you, hermosa,” he chuckles.
“Love you too, Santi,” you reply, wide smile painted on your face.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
Will was the last to kiss you.
It had been a long time coming.
Some people think Will is hard to read. He’s introverted, quiet, a wallflower of sorts. But he isn’t hard to read. Not really. You just have to know what you’re looking at.
He’d called you up one Sunday morning, asking if you had plans. When you’d told him you didn’t, he invited you over for a day of pancakes and terrible movies. It sounded perfect.
Which is how you found yourself lying on Will’s couch, legs tangled together, your back to his chest. His strong arms have found home on your waist, wrapped around your middle. You’re not sure how you ended up here, as you started the movie on opposite ends of the sofa. No one’s complaining.
It’s rare, this kind of intimacy. Casual, effortless, easy. No thought goes into it. You just fall into each other as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Will’s always had that gift. He makes people feel comfortable. No matter where you are, or what you’re doing, one look from those big blue eyes is all it takes to calm you down. It doesn’t matter if you’re being shot at on a battlefield, or just getting overwhelmed in a supermarket. Will’s there, and he knows exactly what you need. You’re convinced the man might be a mind reader, honestly.
He’s not, in fact, clairvoyant. He’s just a listener. No matter what you’re talking about, Will’s looking at you like you’re the centre of his universe. He’d be perfectly content to listen to your voice, to watch the way your eyes light up when you tell stories like this forever. You feel like the only girl in the world, as you lay here in his arms.
You’re deep in thought before you decide to break the silence, voice floating through the warmth of the room.
“Have you ever wanted to kiss me?”
You feel him hum from behind you before he answers softly.
“Every day since I met you.”
You nod gently before relaxing back into him, sighing in contentment.
“Have you ever wanted to kiss me?” he asks, mirroring your question.
“Not a day goes by that I don’t think about kissing you, William,” you murmur.
His arms tighten around you slightly, pulling you impossibly closer. He presses a kiss into your hair, and another to your bare shoulder.
You sit in the silence for a while, letting the questions hang heavy in the air. It’s not awkward – no, it’s the exact opposite. It’s comfortable.
“I’ve kissed Benny, Frankie and Santi,” you confess quietly. You’re not sure why, but it just feels like something you need to get off your chest. You don’t want him to judge you.
“I know,” he speaks softly. He knows. Of course he does.
“Does it make you think differently of me?” you query. You almost don’t want to know the answer.
“Of course it doesn’t,” he replies earnestly. “Why would it?”
“I don’t know. Just doesn’t look good for me, I guess.”
“That’s not true, sweetheart. They’re your best friends. You love them. A kiss doesn’t have to change anything - not always, anyway.” He pauses. “Do you regret any of it?”
“Not at all,” you whisper.
“Exactly. We all think the world of you. You should know that by now.”
You shift and turn so that you’re sitting in between his legs, facing him. You press your forehead into his, and he smiles gently.
“I love you,” you say softly.
“I love you too,” he replies, grinning widely.
Suddenly, he jumps off the couch, pulling you up with him.
“Let’s go outside,” he prompts, dragging you out the door behind him.
“Will, it’s raining!” you squeal as he practically carries you into the backyard.
He grabs you by the waist and spins you around, both of you laughing. The downpour has drenched you both, clothes sticking to your skin, hair dripping. He puts you down and looks at you as if he’s reading the words off the very surface of your soul.
Gently, he pushes the hair out of your face, moving it to behind your ears. He uses his thumb to catch a raindrop that’s making it’s way down your cheek, swiping it away. You’re both soaked through, but you can’t feel the cold. You feel the warmest you ever have, love illuminating your bones.
Will leans down and presses his lips to yours. His hands are on your waist, and he pulls you closer, plastering you together. It’s tender, and it’s sweet, and it’s a perfect amalgamation of Will. You’ve never felt more at peace.
When he pulls away, you remember his words from earlier.
“Does this kiss change anything?” you ask, megawatt smile etched on your face.
“Everything, sweetheart,” he replies, grinning widely. “It changes everything.”
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
“You saved the best until last,” Will beams, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.
The boys all scoff, laughing as they do it. You smile broadly, moving to peck his lips tenderly.
“Sure did.”
Benny and Santiago roll their eyes jokingly, while Frankie jabs them both with his elbows.
“Idiots,” he murmurs, still chuckling.
Will’s hand finds yours under the table. His fingers twist the ring you’re wearing absentmindedly, and he leans in to whisper in your ear.
“I love you, Mrs Miller.”
“I love you too, Mr Miller.”
“Guess I just had to kiss a few frogs to find my prince,” you wink at him, the whole table erupting into protests. You throw your head back in a laugh, your whole body vibrating with it. All four of them agree it’s their favourite sound in the world.
#triple frontier#triple frontier fanfic#triple frontier fic#triple frontier fluff#triple frontier x you#triple frontier x reader#triple frontier smut#reader insert#fanfic#santiago garcia x reader#benny miller x reader#will miller x reader#frankie morales x reader#pedro pascal#charlie hunnam#garrett hedlund#oscar isaac#santiago garcia#santiago pope garcia#frankie morales#frankie catfish morales#benny miller#will miller#triple frontier fanfiction#frankie morales fluff#will miller fluff#benny miller fluff#santiago garcia fluff#santiago garcia smut#frankie morales smut
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i hear searching for fluff. i raise you cat animagus reader and the animal politics that come with being a cat. oh that’s a glass of water you’ve placed on the counter? what a perfect place for my paw to go. they’re a total goodie two shoes but can never stop themselves from swatting at and generally terrorizing sirius, dog form or not. i’ve seen so many videos of woodland animals like stags befriending cats or stealing their food and everyone just being like “wdym i didn’t know they could do that”. reader starts slow blinking at people without realizing. i could go on for forever i would love to see shenanigans and hijinks
beautiful thoughts, i enjoyed all of them. i let them inspire me into a drabble situation of cat!reader terrorising sirius with reg (and rem) on her side. this is just pure chaos and silliness, thank you for the opportunity lovie<3
Words: 2.4k
Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, no use of y/n but your cat form is called "whiskers", james and sirius pranked you mildly, you get revenge as a cat, you are only in cat form throughout this, sibling squabbles, super minor injuries (you put your claws in sirius), platonic physical affection, general chaos and fluff
Note: this is technically in the same universe as my other two (first, second) cat!animagus!reader fics with regulus, but can be read alone. it is more of a platonic!sirius x reader fic though, it focusses on the interactions between them + reg, rem and james
Sirius had been made aware by many a parent, professor and otherwise nosey adult, that actions had consequences. Which was all fine and dandy with him, the consequences were often the sole inspiration for his actions.
This, however. This, they did not warn him about.
“Ow, ow, ow!” he hissed, trying to shake the feline creature off his shoulder.
Just a few seconds ago, she had been innocently peering down on his textbook, front paws resting on his shoulders as she stood on the top of the sofa he was reclining against. That didn’t last long though, as her claws came out and dug in through the fine material of his shirt, seeking the pain and destruction this evil creature seemed to live off of.
Unaffected by his shaking, she elegantly climbed down his arm – claws still out and still using him as leverage – to plop onto the table before them with a soft prrt!
“Remus, your friend is hurting me,” Sirius sneered at his boyfriend who was sat in a grandfather chair beside him, flipping through a newspaper Sirius was quite certain was out of date.
The other boy hummed noncommittally. “Does she have reason to?” he asked without looking up from the paper.
“No!” Sirius exclaimed at the same time as Regulus said, “absolutely.”
He shot his brother a glare on the other side of the sofa. He was reading through a novel in pristine condition, only looking up to glance fondly at the menace currently parading around the coffee table. Sirius was growing miffed that none of his hangout companions were sparing him any attention.
“I haven’t done anything, and if I had the minx should be over it by now.” Sirius did his best to seem authoritative, but he had a tough crowd.
You hissed at him from where you were standing on the table. Regulus looked up at that with mirth swimming in his eyes despite his impassive facial expression.
“She seems to disagree, Pads,” Remus said nonchalantly. “She’s also been running around as Whiskers for the past few hours, which she only does when she is either really pleased and really upset.”
“And she’s not pleased,” Regulus added unhelpfully.
Sirius muttered something under his breath that amounted to “I wouldn’t be pleased either, if I had to be in a relationship with such a grump” to which he received a throw pillow to the face, another hiss and an admonishing “Pads”.
"It was just a little prank," Sirius defended himself. "It's quite literally what we do." He didn't feel the need to go into the specifics; this was a dog he wanted to bury yesterday. Or, well, cat.
"To no one's enjoyment but your own, I'm sure," Regulus huffed. "If she's bothered by it, that's entirely her right."
Sirius looked to Remus for some backing up, and when he found none, he let out another groan, collapsing further into the sofa in his evident despair.
He would have happily stayed there, bitching and moaning as he pleased, had it not been for the suspicious sounds coming from the coffee table.
There, he found that you had not looked away from him and were sitting disturbingly close to the little homework station he had sat up earlier to then promptly ignore – an open textbook, half-written essay, quill and unscrewed inkpot. The look in your eyes was one you had picked up from Remus in your early days together, full of mischief and tomfoolery.
“Don’t you even dare–” Sirius managed to get out as he sat up in his seat and pointed a chiding finger at you, but the damage was done.
With what almost sounded like cat laughter – something most unknowing students would brush off because why would a cat laugh but Sirius knew all too well must be your joy at his expense – you knocked over his inkpot. The pot was almost full and the ink fell right on top of his essay and textbook. He let out a half-screech as he moved forward to correct the damage, but you walked straight into the pool of ink, ensuring you were spreading it further around his essay and the feather of his quill.
Regulus let out an unrestrained bark of laughter as Sirius sank to the floor in front of you, blabbering anger, while Remus simply snorted as he shook his head, choosing not to get involved yet.
“You furry bastard!” Sirius called out as he picked up his parchment, trying to shake some of the excess ink off, only worsening its condition. “You absolute menace.”
Some of the ink he shook off got on your fur, adding to what was already coating your paws from dragging it around. You solved this in the only manner that made sense in cat-world – by launching yourself at Sirius, effectively doubling his screeches within the second.
“Oi! Oi!” Sirius kept calling as you hopped onto his chest, burying your claws into him so he couldn’t simply shake you off, ink smearing all over Sirius’ previously white shirt. The assault of a lifetime, if you asked him. “Azkaban! Azkaban for all of you!” he called when he saw Regulus doubling over with laughter on the opposite end of the sofa.
“Pads! What’s going on, mate?” James’ voice called as he came half-running over after spotting the commotion the second he entered the common room.
Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but upon James spotting the feline devil currently attempting to smear more of the ink across his being, he interrupted with a coo.
“Oh, hi there little Whiskers!” James greeted, bending down to pick you up by the neck. In that James-Potter-way he simply peeled you off of Sirius and held you out before him, just far enough that the ink wouldn’t get on him. “What’s got you in such a tizzy, huh?” he asked, poking at you with his free hand which earned him a petulant hiss.
“The bloody puma destroyed my essay and leaped at me,” Sirius huffed as he clambered back up, ignoring how he sounded like a first year telling on a classmate to McGonagall.
“I believe she is seeking revenge from that little stunt you two pulled earlier,” Remus drawled from his seat, sharing a look with Regulus who rolled his eyes. They knew.
“Which is fully within her right, I must add,” Regulus said, ever the devoted boyfriend. Bloody lucky you. “And she’s not a puma, you wanker, you’re just scared of cats.”
“Slander! ‘M not!” Sirius defended himself, but James ignored him, turning his attention to the cat wriggling in his grip.
“Did we upset you, little kitten?” James asked so friendly you almost wouldn’t catch the teasing in his tone. “So sorry. Next time we’ll hex your tie a different colour. Robe too, yeah?”
Upon receiving another hiss from you and a lunge of your paw, James outright giggled and petted the top of your head carefully, neutralising you if for but a moment.
“How come she’s forgiving you right away? I have had my property destroyed and was lightly maimed in her quest for revenge!” Sirius shook his head in disapproval, attempting to stare you down. It wasn't turning out to be fruitful.
“Sirius, I have a question for you.” Regulus didn’t continue until Sirius reluctantly met his gaze. “Did you know – and be honest with me now – that you’re a wizard?”
Before Sirius could give him a snarky response, Regulus had waved his wand casually over the ink pools on the table and stains on his clothes, cleaning both up effectively as if nothing had happened. Then he gave Sirius a smug smile that made him want to turn into Padfoot and lunge at him – which probably wasn’t a good idea given there were other people in the room.
“Imbécile grossier,” Sirius muttered under his breath as he kicked a leg out at Regulus, intended more for effect than harm.
He received a “connard stupide” in return as Regulus dodged any further assault by getting up and walking over to James, who was now fully petting the rabid killer, whispering something about “please forgive me, it was just too funny not to”. Traitor.
“Hey there, amour,” Regulus said as he picked you up out of James’ arms. “Are you regretting marrying into the family?”
You made a huffing sound, climbing out of his arms to settle along his shoulders, over his neck, were you could cuddle against him while still scowling at Sirius.
“You and me both, sister,” Remus mumbled half-heartedly. Sirius gasped at him with every theatrical bone in his body, earning him an eye roll and – at last – for Remus to abandon the paper to give him a quick smooch.
“I didn’t realise sister-in-laws were allowed to be as sibling-y as an actual sister,” James mused as he folded his arms to take in the scene before him.
“She’s not,” Sirius argued, extracting another eye roll from Remus who patted his thigh placatingly. “Cats are just evil.”
“You could always confront her as Pads, you know, level the playing field,” James suggested.
“Absolutely not.” Regulus turned around so his body was shielding the cat on his shoulders from the three boys. “Not that I doubt she would win against your clumsy self any day, but let’s not even go there.”
Sirius and James barked a laugh that was disturbingly similar while Remus shook his head. “Don’t worry Reg, the less time I can spend around kittens, the better,” Sirius said briskly, feeling emboldened by James’ presence.
You poked your head around Regulus’ neck at that, so that the two of you could share a look. It’s always peculiar for Sirius to see how much understanding seems to pass between you two, especially when in different forms altogether. It's not something he expected for his baby brother and he feels his heart warm at the display – which he promptly pushes down to focus on the war currently playing out in Gryffindor.
As if you two reached an agreement through just that look, you butted your head against Regulus’ cheek while he nodded. Carefully, he manoeuvred you into his arms and plopped you down on the armrest of Remus’ chair, and disappeared from sight to a secluded corner of the common room.
“What in Merlin’s name just happened?” Sirius mused out loud, exchanging bemused glances with James who plopped down beside him.
“Oh, I’m sure it was nothing good.” Remus smiled through his words as he freed one of his hands to scratch under your chin, causing you to purr and brush your feline body closer to his arm. Sirius would be remiss if he didn’t think the sight of pure love between you two wasn’t adorable, but to hells if he would admit it before you two reached a truce.
Your purring was interrupted as you let out a soft prrt! for seemingly no apparent reason, and reached up to give Remus’ cheek a soft cat kiss – that made the boy’s face crinkle into a smile – before jumping down onto the floor. There, Sirius saw the reason for your joy and felt his heart drop in his chest.
“Oh, hi, Shadow,” Remus greeted the black cat that made a beeline for you on the floor, brushing his body against yours with soft purrs. “Come to join in on your brother’s torment?”
“Absolutely not–” Sirius started, but before he could get up and out of his seat, both cats had jumped up onto his legs and made their way to his lap. “What are you guys doing? Get off?!”
James was giggling once more beside him and Sirius had half a mind to throw the cats at him and run away. Though, he was beginning to doubt whether he would be able to as he saw the determination in Regulus’ eyes.
“I believe they’re making you eat your words, love.” The smile in Remus’ voice was so evident that had he not been as handsome as he was, Sirius would have smacked him.
His arms were frozen at his sides, hands hovering in the air, unsure of where to go as he watched the two cats settle down in his lap in horror. Your bodies were horizontal with his and flush against each other’s, becoming liquid in the cuddle puddle you were currently creating.
Sirius tried hissing at you to no avail as Regulus only slapped him with his paw in response. He tried shifting slightly to push you off, but you buried your claws through the fabric of his trousers – Sirius would give Remus a run for his money as the scarred one of the group after you were finished with him. He tried looking to James and Remus for help, but neither boy were willing as they took far too much enjoyment in the show. Remus at least pretended not to as he “read”, but James was fully angled towards him to see the events unfold, shoulders shaking with mirth.
A sigh escaped Sirius as he accepted his fate. “I hate you lot,” he said decisively. “Each and every one of you.”
Regulus made a noise that sounded like it was in disagreement with his statement while Remus just hummed. James nodded his head as if to say “fair”.
You, however, picked your head up from where it was resting over Regulus’ and just stared at Sirius. Usually he felt like he could read you quite well in feline form, which he assumed was due to some skills of Padfoot’s transferring over, but right now you were impossible to understand. You held his gaze head on, almost as if you were studying him, but your breaths were coming so slowly you had to be calm, right? Though this forced proximity was clearly a form of punishment, you were growing comfortable. Was he forgiven?
His train of thought was interrupted as the staring competition you had for a few seconds was interrupted – by you blinking. Slowly. Keeping your gaze on him but fully closing your eyes intermittently.
A slow grin spread across Sirius’ face.
He didn’t know a lot about cats and he principally disliked them. But he did know what that meant.
“Yeah, yeah, princess,” he mumbled as his cheeks almost grew a bit red. “You too.”
#regulus black#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#regulus black x y/n#regulus x reader#regulus x you#regulus x y/n#regulus black reader insert#regulus black self insert#regulus black x fem!reader#platonic!sirius black x reader#platonic!sirius x reader#platonic!remus lupin x reader#platonic!remus x reader#sibling!remus x reader#sibling!sirius x reader#marauders#marauders era#marauders era fic#marauders era reader insert#marauders era self insert#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#the slytherin skittles#slytherin skittles#slytherin skittles x reader
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𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨; 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬
in which he lets her measure his body for a new set suit for him, riddling him with her innocent touches; his view meaning the fic is written in his point of view
fluff with a lot of tension, like drenched with it. Gallagher lowkey being obsessive and loves to tease and spoil his little lady; 2K words!!
It’s Saturday.
She said she wouldn’t be home until later tonight, so I’m alone for the rest of the day. I’ve been sharing my roof with her for around 3 months now. Funny, I seem to forget how quiet this place is without her. At this hour she would be on the couch with the television on, her favorite shows would air around this time.
Am I being a creep for knowing her daily schedule like this?
Hope not, I mean that brat has been stickin’ beside me ever since day one.
Ah shit, it’s supposed to be the other around. She’s my secretary, but here I am acting like I’m some sort of personal assistant of hers, ah that little minx had me all wrapped around her pretty little manicured fingers huh?
Can’t complain though, not when she does her job perfectly.
It’s just that I rarely wanted her to work, to begin with. Her day consists of following me around like an assistant yet she treats me like I’m her assistant instead. Ahahaha I ain’t setting up a good example as her boss, but then again no one could blame me.
I mean with those fucking doe eyes and pouty lips, she’s the type of woman people wrote on their poetry. At this point, It’s clear as day that I miss that little brat. Y’know I’ll just take a quick shower before she comes home, I don’t want her to drag me to the bathroom again like yesterday.
Stepping into the shower made me realize that every single thing here smells like her. Her vanilla-scented shampoo bottle sits next to mine, her body scrubs, her soap. Damn, I never realized how much product she used, no wonder she cooped up in her for a good hour or more, being a pretty lady like her looks like hard work, perhaps harder than my line of work.
She smells like heaven afterward though, so I won’t complain.
Never mind, I would actually complain about one thing.
The fact that her scent drives me crazy sometimes, not to mention the fact that while working she often clings to me like a second skin. The amount of questions I get asking about why my clothes smell like vanilla and roses is crazy. The other hounds, hell even Siobhan tease me for smelling like a lady.
Well, as long as I don’t reek of smoke and alcohol like I used to I guess it’s a good change. As the cold water rinses through my body, I start to worry about her. She’s an adult, she would be fine traveling around Penacony, but why am I worried about her like I’m her old man? Probably because she didn’t tell me where she was going, this girl goes on a shopping spree almost every week and the one thing she never forgets to bring is her walking ATM, which is me.
Should I go look for her?
Nah, she must’ve needed some time alone. She’s probably sick of an old geezer like me, all I could entertain her with is my crappy dad jokes and a little mixology classes here and there. She seems to like my cringe dad jokes though weirdly enough and she also learns quickly on mixing beverages.
Once I finished rinsing my worries away, I put on a pair of sweatpants. I sigh as I brush my damp hair back remembering that I forgot to bring my shirt inside, my age is starting to catch up on me. Oh well, it’s not like she’s coming home soon. I let out a small chuckle as I looped the small towel I used for my hair around my neck.
The mirror in front of me reflects my rugged face, my fingertips graze upon my stubble feeling the sharp little hairs protruding from my cheek. I’ve been thinking of shaving it clean off for a while, but I remember her weird fondness for my stubble. That girl loves rubbing the back of her hand across my face like I’m some sort of a dog, which in this case relates to my line of work funnily enough.
I figured I’d let it be for now, can’t have her whine about my appearance now like she did last month when I talked to her about cutting my hair short. Her argument was if I did cut my hair she wouldn't be able to play with it anymore, such a silly girl that one.
I should fix myself a cup of coffee before cleaning around the house, it ain’t like I have anything better to do other than waiting for her like a lost puppy. I let out a hefty yawn as I walked towards the kitchen. It's easier for me to find things these days since she arranges it in a specific way. Before her, it took me around 5 minutes to search for the coffee bean, but now I can see the labeled jar from far away.
I couldn't help but let my lips curve into a small smile as I twisted the jar open, the charming scent of the coffee beans she picked emanated through the air, that little lady has good taste I must admit. Heh, she must’ve learned it from me. She used to be a tea gal before she met me, but now it seems she quite enjoys a little more caffeine here and there.
Can’t help to let out a small smirk as I brew myself a cup of coffee. She utterly consumes me at this point, every single damn thing reminds me of her it ain’t funny. I never thought I could still feel this giddy like a teenage kid at my current age, but then again she had always said that I still have my child-like wonder.
I rest my body against the counter, the cold marble hits my bare waist making me wince at the sudden temperature difference. After this, I’ll do laundry and then afterward I should start preparing for dinner.
As I lost myself in my thoughts I could hear the sound of a key twisting inside the keyhole, ah she’s home. “I’m back. Miss me, old man?” she muses as she turns her head towards me.
“Nah, I’m starting to miss my short-lived tranquility though,” I smile, pressing the rim of my glass against my lips to hide my smirk. She on the other hand has her eyes wide open, her mouth wide agape.
She stares at me a little too long before I finally break the silence between us, “Why'd ya look at me that way kid ?” I ask as I gaze toward her small face, analyzing her expression.
“You’re practically half naked, but wait that’s good actually,” shit, I forgot about that. She starts to walk towards me with a nasty smile, oh she’s scheming something alright.
“What? why is it a good thing? you've never seen a man’s body before ?” I snicker, masking away my flustered interior.
“Oh because I could clearly measure it now,” she smiles. Now hold on, measure what ??!!! The seemingly ambiguous sentence drives my mind toward possibilities that would definitely put me behind bars.
“Measure what huh ?” I let out a small chuckle, I put my cup down and leaned towards her eye level.
“You definitely won’t fit a size XL,” she sighs. Well ouch! cut me some slack little lady. I might be slacking off on my training, but I’m still in good shape. “What a way to break this old man’s heart you little brat, fyi I’ll definitely fit a size L,”
“Said that to your shirt. The poor thing needed its button to be stitched back up yesterday,” okay maybe she’s right but it still stings, my lips curve downward as I look at her, she’s out here breaking my heart to pieces.
“I’m not saying you’re putting on weight, what I’m saying is I want to measure your measurements so that I can buy you something custom-made,” she caresses my chest as her eyes lock towards mine.
I could feel my heartbeat drumming against my eardrum as her touch burned against my skin, marking it as hers. Fuck, feels so fucking good to feel her touch. Is it greedy for me to want more of her?
Her pink ‘nd soft lips curve into this delicate smile.
Fuck, she looks so pretty like that.
“Oh, what’s the occasion for dressing up this old hound ?” I smile as I lean forward to close the gap between us, trying to take control of my not-so-innocent thoughts about her lips.
I can’t recall anything worth celebrating between us, maybe the fact that I’m cutting down on smoking, but that’ll be worth something when I fully ditch it.
She merely chuckles before lightly hitting my chest like I’m telling her a funny joke, “You are an old man after all, how can you forget that three months from now is going to be the annual family?”
Ah right….
I was never the person who enjoyed those fancy parties, but hey I have her by my side so maybe I might change my stance.
“Those types of events were never my thing,” I avert my gaze, my finger drums against my nape.
“Well those types of events are my thing, so you’ll come right?” I mean with those puppy eyes, of course I’ll come.
“Fine, I guess this year’s gala could be bearable with you by my side,” I could only sigh as I stroked her hair, truly she dictates the same way as an old friend of mine.
With a smile that rivals the sun curving on her lips, she pulls out a measuring tape from her purse. Ah, so this is the ‘measuring’ part she talked about.
“Since when you’re a tailor,” I snicker as her fingers trace the long tape to find the zero mark.
“Oww hush, you’ll be the first person I’ll measure so be kind,” she mutters as she unravels the tape, “Alright lady,”
She leans closer to me as her finger holds one side of the tape beside my bare ribcage, “Stay still,” she mumbles, easier said than done.
How can I stand still when her fingertips press against my skin? It’s my damn Achilles heel. She’s too close, way too close. I don’t know how to act nor what to think when she’s soo damn close to me, the air feels stuffy and the atmosphere feels way too intimate and somehow sexual?
Kill me now.
She almost has her small face pressing against my chest, my bare chest to be exact which made this seemingly harmless interaction so dangerous.
Her other hand still struggles to find the tape behind my back. “Your chest is too broad,” she complains, I just let out a snicker at her statement which made her lose her focus.
“M’sorry anything I could do to help ?” I couldn’t do anything though, I could only extend my arms to the side to let her in, closer to me.
“Just stay still,” she huffs. Alright then, I’m cool as a cucumber. Without any warning, her cheek presses against my chest as she hugs me.
The warmth of her skin seeps through my cold chest, now this warmth burns inside me. “Ah! This works,” well I’m happy for her but there’s practically no distance between us, not even an inch.
“Stay still ol’ hound,” I must’ve been moving too much. I look down at her, her fingers skillfully bring the other side of the tape in front of my chest.
Now her forehead rests against my chest as she struggles to read the number that transpires, “Uhhh how do I read this again ?” she huffs.
“Can’t read a simple measurement now ?” my hand finds its way back toward her head, brushing a loose strand back behind her ear.
“Don’t tease,” well of course I’m going to tease as if I’m not the one who's secretly flustered as hell.
“Alright got it, now I’m going to drag this down to your waist,” she smiles as she drags both of her hands down and tightens the tape around my waist.
I never thought of myself to be a squeamish person, but I am now. “Oh wow, your chest and waist ratio are quite something….”
“What d’ya mean by that ?” I ask as she looks up towards me, “Your waist is quite slim and also your shoulders are broad so you do have that hourglass silhouette…” she muses to herself.
Well, ain’t that interesting…..
“Oh yeah your shoulders and back !” she naps herself back from her trance, cute.
With that, she took a couple of minutes to measure my upper body to the best of her abilities. Albeit the fact that I need to crouch down a bit for her to be able to measure my shoulders and back.
She takes a couple of steps back with newfound determination exuding her. I guess it’s from the fact that she’s getting the hand of measuring me.
“Are we done now ?” I ask, rather impatiently. Her fingers still linger in any direction she wants. Mapping every single inch of me into her memory.
“Still a long way to go,” she huffs. I see that she wants me to be as still as a mannequin, the things I do for her…
She hums a familiar tune, a song I like to hum. She crouches down bringing the tape around my hips, then she circles back in front of me, “Pardon my intrusion,”
Well the sentiment is rather too late now, she had been breaching my personal space since the very beginning. She couldn’t help but rest her forehead against my lower stomach as she looked down, reading the tape.
“Take your time, s’not like I could go anywhere,” I sigh as I stroke her hair, letting her silky smooth locks stream through my fingers. “I thank you for your coordination,” she snickers as she looks up at me, pretty little thing she is.
So stinkin’ cute. I smile as I cup her cheeks, letting my thumb graze against his lower lip, “Anytime, Lady,” I reply, before casually folding my arms back against each other.
Why the fuck did I just do that?
“I’m going to go lower now, I need to get some measurements for your pants,” she continued her current action without any signs of discomfort, thank god. “Oh wow even a pair of pants, you spoil this ol’ hound too much,” I feel as though my chest cavities were filled with cotton, making my heart all warm and soft.
“We both know you spoiled me rotten, Gallagher,” she cuts me, the tape now encircling around my thighs.
“Have I now?” Honestly, she deserves more than I could afford.
“You have you silly hound. Now let me repay your kindness,” her face now rests against my thighs as the tape travels slightly lower.
“Heh is this your way into getting to my pockets again,” I snicker, knowing that it’s one of her best manipulation tactics. Acting all cute and then stealing my money.
“Hey! I’m spending my own paycheck on this mister,” she protests as she stands up. “Oh, she’s a big girl now. She doesn’t need my money anymore right ?”
“Well technically no,” she looks away to the side, biting her lips in annoyance.
“She doesn’t need my money, but I’ll give it to her anyway because she has me wrapped around her little fingers,” I cup her cheeks, guiding her face to see me. “Cuz she’s my lil lady,” I smile as I press our forehead together, I can feel a thin imaginary veil between us.
“Of course I am and you’re my old hound,” she wraps her arms around my neck as my hand rests on her waist.
The thin barrier that puts a blur in our relationship, but somehow it just feels right, whatever we are it’s perfect. I don’t need more or less, just her warmth against mine.
#☆彡veririnwrites#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#gallagher hsr#gallagher x reader#gallagher fluff
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Our dog passed away yesterday. Her name was Minx and she was 11 years old. We actually shared the same birthday.
I'm going to miss her a lot.
#she was such a nutter#its going to be weird without her terrorising the wildlife#she caught a pheasant once#she was really proud of it too
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