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ghouljams · 3 months ago

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Ok nobody extrapolate anything about me from this...

The first time you cry in front of the 141:

The first time you cry in front of Ghost it's because you can't fucking take it anymore. All the little things, all the comments you know he didn't mean to hurt, all the conversations you ignored because you didn't want to make him feel like the bad guy, it all comes to a head. You don't even mean it to happen, and you feel like shooting yourself on the spot as soon as the tears start flowing. It feels manipulative. It feels disingenuous. You feel like a piece of shit having him awkwardly bundle you in his arms as you break down sobbing over a topic that normally would mean nothing to you. And it all comes out. All the worries and slights you ignored, all the fears and doubts, all the things that made you question if you could ever even start to bring up with him. Like throwing up, once it starts you can't stop it.

He looks like you've hit him when you finally escape his bear hug. You barely get the chance to take it in before you're thrust back into sobbing hysterics, blubbering out apologies, how you feel like you're manipulating him, how you're a bad partner, how you're sure he's going to realize he doesn't want you and leave. You barely hear the rough "Jesus Christ" over your own hiccuping.

Ghost shuffles the two of you over to grab you a t-shirt to blow your nose in while you're sniffling and wiping at your eyes. You feel pathetic having him hold the fabric to your face and telling you to blow.

"Didn't know ya made this much snot love," he jokes.

"You're dot funny," you whine, nose still clogged with wattery mucus as your tears finally start calming down.

"I know," he grumps.

"You're mad at me," you sniffle.

"I'm not," he sounds mad, "mad at myself. Shoulda seen ya keepin' things to yourself, I'm glad ya finally told me." His scarred mouth screws to one side. "Just gotta work on makin' sure we don't get to this point again."

The first time you cry in front of Soap it's because you're so fucking mad at him. He's arguing with you over nothing, the same way he always does when he's in a bad mood. Finding little things that dig at you and twisting just enough to make it not his fault when you snap. Back and forth with your barbs until you got to bed angry.

You can feel the tears burning at your waterline before they spill and you know your hot cheeks don't bode any better. You're not yelling but you almost wish you were, at least of you were yelling at each other it might make you feel better about the sudden waterworks. You hate when this happens. Too big an emotion in the body, it has to come out somewhere, you suppose this is just the quickest avenue. The way Soap's face drops from anger to concern pisses you off though.

"Hen, are ya-"

"I'm so fucking mad right now," you assure him, "don't look at me, don't even acknowledge them."

"Ah dinnae ken," His voice is getting softer, it only makes you more upset, "Oh my bonnie, ahm sorry ah didnae think this would hurt ya so bad."

"Fuck off," you try to push past him to lock yourself in the bathroom and he catches your arm to pull you against him. "Fuck off!" You shriek, pushing at him.

"No," he holds you a little tighter, "my mam would 'ave my heid hearin' ah let ya walk away from me like this, yer stayin' 'ere."

"I will fucking skin you Mactavish," you struggle harder.

"Aye anno, now shut up an' quit yer kickin'."

You do neither of those things.

The first time Gaz sees you cry it's because no one's ever seen you before. Even in your best relationships, your closest friendships, no one sees you like Gaz. No one picks you up from work with flowers and takes you by your favorite bakery just so you can have a slice of cake when you watch your comfort show. You're not even through the title music, Gaz sorting through your takeout options after he'd gotten you a "fancy plate" and a small fork to eat with, when you break down in sobs. He's on you immediately, hushing you as he gathers you into his arms. He's so attentive it hurts.

"It's OK baby," he hums, "don't have to talk about it, you just let it out."

God even that gets you crying. You don't have to get your words right or find a way to explain what you're feeling, you can just feel it. You try to think of a way to put it into words but it all lines up wrong, sounds too juvenile, doesn't make any sense even to you. There's no need to say anything though, Gaz just sits there with you, holds you through it as you wet his shoulder with your tears.

You don't even know why you're crying by the end of it, you just kept coming up with other reasons to cry. Jesus you don't think you ever got over your last grandparent dying, or losing that one friend, that's something to unpack later. You feel drained. Literally dehydrated drained. Gaz's shirt is soaked, but he doesn't day anything when you pull back.

He cups your cheek at wipes at the wet stains on your cheek with his thumb, eyes searching yours before he gives you a tight smile.

"Why don't you go take a hot shower, yeah?" He offers, you give him a watery nod, he smiles and pats your knee. "Alright, off you go. I'll be in, in a second."

The second time you cry in front of Gaz it's before he's got you pinned to the shower wall.

The first time Price sees you cry it's because you're tired. You're tired of giving everything to this relationship and seeing him leave right when things seem to be falling into place. His phone buzzes in the middle of the night and you don't stop the downpour when he grumbles out a swear and turns on the light. You glare at the ceiling and let the tears flow. It hurts. Tight in your chest. This feeling like you'll never be enough, like he'll always have something more important than you, it kills you. So why can't you leave him?

Are the good times really good enough to make up for the bad?

It makes him stop what he was doing when he sees the resolute grimace and the flow of tears over your cheeks. You shudder in a breath when he sits on the side of the bed. You refuse to look at him.

How could he do this to you?

"Sweetheart," he starts, his voice low, gentling, "I'm sorry."

"You're not." You correct him, "Otherwise you wouldn't keep doing it."

"You want me to choose between you and the world, you know what I'll say." He always sounds so sharp, ready to guilt you into giving up what he wants.

"I'm asking you to choose between me and paperwork," you bite back.

"You don't know-"

"You get phone calls when you're being deployed." You remind him, "You get reminders when papers are due." You turn to glare at him. The look on his face twists like a knife in your chest. You're dead on the money, and it's killing him. "So can this really not wait until the morning, are you really that eager to be rid of me?"

"I'm sorry," he tries again, toeing off his shoes, "you're right, I hadn't noticed." You turn over as he climbs under the duvet again. You fold your legs up as his arm drapes over you hip and he curls around you. His lips touch your shoulder, a silent plea for forgiveness. "Let me make it up to you, no more running into red tape I promise."

You don't bother agreeing to empty promises, but the next day he's had the paperwork sent from the base. The same the next day. Price always told you working from home didn't suit him. Waking you up with a cuppa on the other hand and walking you to the station does though.

He makes good on his promise, he doesn't run off until the next call comes in.

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avatarchic · 10 months ago

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— FOREIGNER

How the Karasuno boys would react to meeting Shoyo's foreign cousin.

— starring. karasuno boys x foreign exchange student!reader (separately), student teacher!reader in ukai's

— tags. fluff, first meetings, pining

— warnings. use of 'pretty' and 'cute' to describe reader, but no pronouns are used, you slap ryuu in his LOL, mild suggestive comment in ryuu's if you squint

— requested? yes! thank you so much for your request this was fun to write :)

— notes. some of these are longer than others sorry ADHKWH my biases are showing a lil // this ended up being a first meeting + how they act when they start crushing on you, but it they're so cute so i didnt wanna change it lolol

daichi is whipped for you from the start

he doesn't show it (or he doesn't think he does) but he's attracted to you the second he lays eyes on you

he's extra sure to be polite to you, too embarrassed too show his brasher nature in case it scares you off

he loses his backbone whenever you're around

he needs to scold some of the first years for goofing off, but you're standing there? he's all sunshine and rainbows

when he finds out that you're a foreign exchange student, he's over the moon

he subtly finds out your classes from shoyo, who of course doesn't realize his intentions as he blurts out your schedule happily

he checks up on you often, making sure you're adjusting well to japan because "what kind of captain would he be if he let his underclassman's cousin have a hard time?"

the team is none the wiser, except for maybe koshi who sees through his shit immediately

he has a habit of patting your head as a greeting, even if he's just passing you in the hallways even if you complain about him messing up your hair

overall, he's super soft with you :)

sawamura daichi! was annoyed when he met you. shoyo hadn't shown up to practice and wasn't answering his phone, which left the captain ready to send the orange-haired freshman to an early grave. after kei made a smart remark that he saw shoyo lingering near the school entrance, he was on a mission to give the boy hell.

kei was right, of course. when daichi made his way to the entrance, he saw shoyo right away. he stomps over, lips parting to lecture the younger male about responsibilities when his eyes ghost over you. he stops short, shoyo's name barely dropping from his mouth as he pauses.

when you both turn to him, daichi feels his breath catch in his throat. it was clear that you weren't from around here. your odd sense of dress stuck out like a sore thumb—not to mention he had never seen you before. but if anything, he thought you were pretty.

"you're late for practice," daichi states lamely, barely managing to tear his gaze away from you to glower at shoyo. "i ought to put you on cleaning duty tonight."

the threat fell on deaf ears, shoyo's large grin unfaltering as he wraps an arm around your midsection in a tight hug. "captain! sorry, sorry," he apologizes, though the wide grin on his face told daichi he wasn't serious. "my cousin texted me that they were here, so i had to say hi!"

at his words, you finally snap out of your stupor, offering daichi a small smile. "i didn't realize he had practice. i wouldn't have called him out if i knew."

daichi presses his lips together, feeling his ears warm at your kind tone. "it's okay," he says softly. "i'll let him off for now. it's nice to meet you—i'm sawamura daichi."

when you introduce yourself, he finds himself repeating your name in his head.

"oi," he clears his throat, turning to shoyo with a deadpan expression. "c'mon. we're late enough already." daichi turns to bow his head at you politely, quickly turning around before you can see the warmth in his cheeks.

your sweet voice calls out a goodbye, and daichi decides then and there that he wants to get to know you better.

"hey, hey—why are you so red?"

"you're gonna shut up now if you want to go home early tonight."

koshi didn't realize you were shoyo's cousin until after he got to know you a little

he couldn't help it—when he saw you he just thought you were super cute lmao

he fumbles a bit in front of you

he really really tries to be a cool, calm, and collected person but sometimes he embarrasses himself by saying odd things or staring at you a little too long

when he does figure out you're related to his underclassman, he takes the opportunity to get to know you better

and when he finds out you're in his homeroom? even better

the type to arrange study session together with you every weekend just to spend time with you

he actually invites you to watch their practices and games before shoyo does LOL

the whole team knows about his feelings and he doesn't even care, constantly throwing an arm over you shoulder and hanging around you during downtimes

wants to impress you, so he gives it his all (and then some) whenever you're there

his sets get more accurate and he even blocks more hits than he would've before

he really wants you to think he's cool

but if you compliment him, he's exploding on the spot

suguwara koshi! had no idea you were shoyo's cousin when he met you. you looked nothing alike and your personalities were completely different. despite you being a complete stranger, the lost look on your face amused him.

you met koshi when shoyo accidentally stranded you at the train station. you were supposed to take the same train to his house, but he didn't notice you weren't right behind him when he stepped into the train car. the last you saw of the tangerine-haired boy was the back of his head as the doors closed on you.

you were standing there in a panic, though no one stopped to check if you were okay. shoyo had you hold his schoolbag while he dragged your suitcase along, and when you tried calling his cellphone you heard it buzz in the bag that hung on your shoulder. for the life of you, you couldn't remember which stop to get off or which streets to take to get to his house.

"are you lost?" a gentle voice asks you, pulling you from your anxious thoughts.

your eyes meet and koshi can't help but think you're cute as hell. you look doe-eyed in your panic, rounded eyes and parted lips. when you don't answer right away, koshi's cool demeanor switches and he stumbles into an embarrassed frenzy. "wait, can you even understand japanese?"

thankfully, you do, having learned it from shoyo at a younger age. you blink away the remnants of your panic with a few hasty nods. "yes, sorry. my cousin accidentally left me here, and i don't really know how to get to his house..."

koshi calms down at your insistence, chuckling to himself. "do you know the address?"

you wince, "no."

"alright," he says in a way that he hopes is soothing for you. "i can keep you company while you wait for him to return, then. it'd probably be nicer than just standing here by yourself."

when you agree, he hides his smile. he asks you several icebreakers, such as your name and your favourite colour. with every passing second, he only thinks you're even cuter than when he first saw you.

eventually, shoyo does come back, panting and heaving as he runs up the stairs to the station platform. his bright eyes widen when he sees you together with koshi. "oh, sugawara? you've met my cousin?"

koshi meets your eyes with a grin. "i guess we'll be seeing each other more often."

honestly asahi doesn't even acknowledge you when you first meet

he doesn't find out you're shoyo's cousin for weeks, so you're really just another classmate to him

you don't even talk to each other until like a month or so after you transferred

and even then, your conversations are short

he's polite to you when you work together, but he doesn't really try to become friends with you

don't get him wrong! he thinks you're nice and pretty, but he is too damn shy to initiate anything with you

you kinda think he hates you at first, but after you realize that he's just not an outgoing person you relax around him

when he does find out you're related to shoyo, you end up seeing each other more often out of class

you show up to more practices, even if you're just sitting on the benches doing homework

shoyo even drags you along whenever the team meets up outside of school to hang out

as a result, you and asahi eventually grow closer and he opens up more bit by bit

he doesn't actually start crushing on you until graduation nears

he realizes it when he hears you cheering his name at one of their bigger games

he thinks his name sounds prettier coming from you

he doesn't initiate any skinship with you, but he's always asking about your day and checking on you in his own ways

will absolutely combust if you even so much as brush pinkies as you're walking together

azumane asahi! first met you in class. like koshi, he doesn't know you're related to shoyo initially. when the teacher introduces you, making you write your name on the board, you don't have the same last name as shoyo. he doesn't really pay much attention to you, minding his own business as he takes out his notebook and pens.

several weeks pass and your homeroom teacher announces that you'll be partnering up for a group presentation. your first real conversation with him goes as expected—you exchange contact information and go your separate ways when the bell rings.

he thinks you're attractive, but he's too shy to actually act on those thoughts and he just pushes through the project, interacting with you as little as possible.

it's only when shoyo forgets his volleyball uniform at your house that asahi figures out you're related.

he sees you first, standing in the gym entrance while you wait to be invited in. you look hesitant as your eyes cast over the several members of the volleyball club, your gaze landing on asahi. when recognition flickers behind your eyes, he thinks you're there for him.

he opens his mouth to greet you, but before he can even utter a word, an orange blur runs past him. you're almost knocked on your ass as shoyo tackles you, excitedly calling out your name. "what're you doing here?" he asks you, tilting his head as he releases you from his death grip. "you never come to practice."

"you left your uniform at mine," you explain quietly, pulling the clothing out of your bag.

there's a moment of silence, before all hell breaks loose. the others scream and yell at shoyo, yuu and ryuunosuke shaking him by the shoulders as they demand why they weren't informed about his girlfriend.

even asahi's jaw drops at the thought of you, his classmate and group partner, dating shoyo, of all people.

"we aren't dating!" you exclaim, shaking your hands in front of you adamantly as disgust paints over your facial features. "we're cousins."

as the club eventually quiets down, you meet asahi's gaze over the commotion. when you offer him a bashful smile, he can't help but return it.

as expected, yuu is also whipped for you the second you meet

he swears on his life that he has never met someone as perfect as you—not even kiyoko (which says a lot)

at first, his attraction to you is entirely physical and he doesn't hide it

he compliments you every time he sees you he even compliments your outfits even if you're just wearing the karasuno uniform

he practically begs shoyo to bring you to practice just so he has an excuse to ogle at you and profess his 'undying love'

you'd probably make good friends with kiyoko, bonding over the second years' unabashed feelings and loud professions of love lol

though he's completely smitten with your looks, yuu doesn't learn a thing about you until like two months after your transfer

he realizes it when koshi asks if he knows anything about you and no, the fact that you're pretty doesn't count as something

during a late night run to the nearest convenience store, he runs into you

you're dressed casually, and he realizes it's actually the first time he's seen you outside of uniform

he thinks you're very cute in your bunny pajamas

he approaches you with koshi's words in mind, and asks if you want to hang out for a bit

your hang outs become a common thing, and eventually it's your weekend tradition to meet at the convenient store after sundown

after really getting to know you, he realizes that he likes more than just your appearance

shockingly, once he figures out his feelings for you, he tones down a lot

he would stop confessing his love for you every moment he could, but he gets casually affectionate with you

he'd always stand close enough for your shoulders to touch and would absentmindedly guide you places by taking your hand

he's never had a real crush on anyone before, so he's feeling it out with you

nishinoya yuu! has hearts in his eyes the moment he meets you. shoyo brought you to practice one day, excited to introduce his favourite cousin to his teammates. he had all but dragged you to the gym by the wrist, ignoring your insistent utterings that you can walk on your own.

"this is my cousin!" shoyo announces the second he bursts through the doors in true hinata shoyo fashion. you were the last ones to show up, so the entire team was there to witness you getting dragged in by shoyo. "they transferred here from overseas."

yuu feels the world stop once he glances over at you after receiving a particularly harsh spike from tobio, freezing into his squatted position. his world becomes a romcom movie—he swears someone must be blowing a fan in your direction with the way your hair sways as you walk into the gym. he might even be seeing the air sparkle in your presence.

he's absolutely starstruck with you, and he makes no effort to hide it as he bounds over to you. he takes your hands in his, looking at you with wide eyes as he takes you in. he can hear someone groaning, maybe daichi, as they mutter something along the lines of "he's at it again."

"i'm nishinoya yuu," he introduces himself. "you're really cute!"

your mouth opens, but no words come out as you simply stare at yuu in surprise. shoyo had given you a brief rundown of his group members, and you realize that this might be why he warned you about the libero in particular.

even when daichi smacks the back of his head, apologizing to you quietly, yuu remains in his lovestruck gaze.

you stay to watch their practice, at both shoyo and yuu's insistence, and yuu makes a point to be even more extravagant than usual. you can't help but laugh at his boisterous rolling receives and the way he calls out ridiculous move names.

oh ryuu. typical ryuu.

the first words he ever speaks to you end up with him getting slapped

like yuu, he thinks you've been blessed by the gods with your looks and he makes it clear to you when you meet

he asks you to go out with him, only to blatantly check you out right after, which earned him a smack to the face

eventually, he does apologize for his behaviour, though you don't accept it right away

when you tell him that you hate guys who treat others like eye candy, he's sure to tone it down for you

of course, a man can't change overnight

he still flirts with you, and with other women—he can't help it ;( him n yuu are menaces

however, when he's not being an absolute pest, he gets to know you

he learns about your interests and hobbies, and finds himself indulging you in them (who would've thought he'd end up enjoying the art of bracelet making?)

when you become close friends, you become his person

he goes to you whenever he wants to talk about something, and he lends an ear whenever you need to vent

he asks you about your home country often, wanting to know more about your life before you came to japan

he'd even go out of his way to do things for you that remind you of home whenever you start feeling homesick :)

it's not until well after graduation when he realizes that he might actually like you

tanaka ryuunosuke! was mid confession when you met. shoyo had brought you to one of their games, and just as ryuunosuke was getting on his knees to ask kiyoko to marry him, his eyes fall on you.

it's almost astounding how quickly the second year moved from the glasses-wearing beauty to you, appearing in front of you in an instant. before shoyo can even introduce you, he stares you down with a steeled expression, his eyes narrowing.

"you're the prettiest person i've ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on," he claims in his most serious tone. he takes your hands in his as he presses his lips to your knuckles. "please go out with me."

there's a collective sigh as the team turns away at his antics. you, on the other hand, feel your head pound in irritation. "excuse me?"

ryuunosuke doesn't hear the vexation in your tone, or chooses to ignore it, as his eyes trail over your features. even when you're staring at him in an angry disbelief, he thinks you're incredibly pretty. however, as his eyes drop lower and lower, his mind enters a less-than-appropriate headspace.

the feeling of your hand connecting with his cheek rips him out of his lewd daydreams. you didn't slap him hard, but the sound echoed over the loud chatter of the audience members anyway. "you pervert," you utter, gritting your teeth as you turn on your heel. you barely tell shoyo good luck as you all but stomp off to the bleachers.

ryuunosuke stares at your back, holding his reddening cheek in mild awe. yuu nudges his side. "don't tell me you're into that, man."

he at least has the grace to blush.

to be honest, you and tobio do not get along until much later

it's not because you're related to shoyo it is

he just genuinely has no idea how to talk to you lmao

you meet him on the first day of school with shoyo

the realization that he may be teammates with the very guy he had practically berated in middle school took priority over greeting you tbh

it's only after their initial fight when he realizes that you, a complete stranger, saw him yell at shoyo as harshly as he did (even if shoyo didn't have many nice things to say either)

he's kinda embarrassed abt it tbh

like?? you had to see him like that?? he's mortified

so when he joins the volleyball club and you're a manager, he avoids you like the plague

when he talks to you, he accidentally comes across as if he hates your guts (he doesn't, he just cannot properly converse with people to save his life)

your relationship is extremely terse for months, since you get pissed off at his behaviour and he doesn't know how to act normally around you

he doesn't warm up to you until one of their games later in the season, where the morale is low and the team is hanging their heads

you give them an uplifting speech, telling the team that they're stronger than they think

it's the first time tobio looks at you in a pleasant light, and he merely puts a hand on your shoulder to say thanks as he makes his way back to the court

slowburn as fuck tbh he might not even realize he likes you until you're about to graduate (cut him some slack he's only a lil slow)

kageyama tobio! barely acknowledges your existence when you meet. you had moved to japan before their first year at karasuno began, so you showed up with shoyo to the first day.

of course, tobio recognized shoyo immediately from their encounter in middle school. shoyo had dragged you to the gym to go with him to sign up for the volleyball club, insistent that you try to apply to be a manager or something. tobio was there, about to spike a volleyball.

the second shoyo and tobio lock eyes on each other, they're at it like cats and dogs, and you're left standing there in confusion. seeing shoyo as angry as he was is shocking to you and you wonder what the hell this other guy must've done to rile up your sunshine cousin so much.

tobio doesn't even look at you as he argues with shoyo, not meeting your eyes until after the fight has 'calmed' down. he stares at you quietly for a moment before averting his gaze, grumbling something under his breath as he leaves to retrieve the volleyball shoyo made him drop.

he doesn't say anything to you as you talk quietly with daichi about becoming a manager. he vaguely overhears shoyo introducing you as his cousin, but he's too annoyed to listen.

later on, when him and shoyo are finally accepted into the club, and you're brought on as a manager-in-training, tobio still ignores you.

you don't have your first conversation until a week later, when you corner him after practice. "what is your problem?" you demand, your hands propped on your hips. "i know you don't like sho, but you haven't said a single word to me since you joined the club."

tobio flushes in embarrassment as he stares at you. he doesn't mean to, but his eyes narrow into what could be perceived as a harsh glare. "i don't have anything to say," he says truthfully, his voice coming out colder than necessary.

when he rushes off to hide his growing fluster, you're left standing there confused.

you and kei barely interacted at first tbh

he had never seen you before and it was the weekend when you met so he had no reason to assume you'd ever talk again really

even after finding out you were related to shoyo, he didn't bat an eye

after all, he's not exactly going over to the orange-haired boy's house for sleepovers lolol

but to his surprise, you're in his classroom the next monday morning as a foreign exchange student

your classmates rush to you, overwhelming you with numerous questions about your hometown, and it's clear to kei that you're flustered

you meet his gaze over the crowd of people, and for a moment you're shocked to see him

however, before either of you can do anything, you get bombarded with even more questions

to your surprise and his, kei scoffs as he approaches your crowded desk

"can't you see you're bothering them?"

the gaggle of students dissipates with embarrassed apologies, leaving you and kei alone

your relationship with him from then on is odd

there's an unspoken agreement that you both don't like being bothered by other people, and you lowkey bond over it

he would never admit you're friends, but he comes to your rescue often

if you can't understand a phrase or if you don't know the answer to a question in class, he'll quietly help you out (but don't bother asking about it, 'cus he'll deny it vehemently)

when you start hanging out during practices, he ruffles your hair and rests his arm on your head regardless of your height

making fun of you is his love language (not that he'd ever admit he has feelings)

tsukishima kei! meets you when you're babysitting natsu. the team had been out getting ice cream (as per koshi's insistence—for team building), leaving kei in a sour mood because he would rather be anywhere than here.

"shoyo! sho!"

the whole team looks over, seeing a little girl who is the spitting image of their short middle blocker running toward them. kei's expression drops even more, because there's two of them?

shoyo almost drops his ice cream cone with the way the little girl jumps on him. "what are you doing here?" shoyo asks, scrambling to catch his sweet treat. "where's—"

before he can finish his sentence, another figure comes running at them, out of breath. "natsu!" you scold airily as you make your way up to the team, hunching over and resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. "jesus, don't just run off like that!"

you look up at shoyo from your hunched position, letting kei get a good look at your face. you're flushed, sweat beading on your brow bone and lips are parted as you breathe harshly through them. it's clear to the blond that you've been running around for some time now, something that makes him snort into his strawberry ice cream cup.

"sorry, sho," you wince, practically dragging the little girl, natsu, to your side. "she ran off while i was paying for her snacks. she probably saw you through the window." you vaguely gesture to a nearby convenience store, holding up a bag of candy.

you talk with shoyo for another moment, before turning to the rest of the team. your eyes briefly meet kei's and he arches a brow at you. you apologize for interrupting them, but daichi insists that you're fine and that you and natsu can hang around since you're there anyway.

as a result, you and kei end up standing near each other as the group converses. kei had been hanging a little bit away from the others, minus tadashi of course. you end up near him by coincidence—you don't know the others, and the three of you end up quietly sitting in acknowledgement that you didn't want to talk.

my darling baby tadashi is a mess when you meet <3

he was practicing his volleyball skills when he accidentally whams you in the face

he'd feel guilty about it for a while (even if you insist you're fine) and would use it as an excuse to buy you drinks from the vending machines lol

"this is the fourth drink you've bought me this week??"

"i have to make up for hitting you somehow :((("

becoming friends with tadashi is surprisingly easy, given how shy he can be

it becomes a habit to meet you by the vending machines before practice

the time in the halls between classes and volleyball are spent getting to know you

he asks a lot of questions about what it's like in your hometown and the differences in your culture

i don't think he'd start liking you until after you also get close with kei though lol good luck

the first time he sees you joking around with the tall blond, he thinks his heart is about to beat out of his chest

you must be an angel, he decides as he watches you get along with kei

the three of you form a trio and you end up spending more time with them than shoyo LOL

kei absolutely knows about tadashi's feelings and takes every opportunity to tease him about it whilst you're blissfully unaware

he's so so smitten around you after he realizes he likes you

the type to look at you like you hung the stars in the sky yourself and to becoming maddeningly red whenever you so much as make eye contact with him

yamaguchi tadashi! hits you in the head the first time he meets you. he was in the gym alone, practicing his float serve. you pushed through the heavy metal doors just in time to get slammed in the face with a ball gone awry.

he feels his heart drop to his toes as he quickly rushes over to you, asking if you're alright and if you need to see the nurse. his panic only worsens when he realizes you're bleeding from your nose.

although the hit shocked you, you're left watching in amusement as tadashi scrambles to find something to stop your nosebleed with. when he eventually returns to you, having ran from the boys washroom to grab a wad of papertowel, he apologizes again softly.

"are you okay now...?" he asks when your nosebleed finally stops. he looks almost like a kicked puppy, his hair falling limply into his eyes.

even after you reassure him that you're fine, tadashi still wears his guilt like a crown. he offers to buy you something from the vending machines, and does so despite your insistence that he doesn't need to.

"you can accept it for my sake," he says sheepishly as he offers you the cold can. the two of you converse quietly, with you introducing yourself as a new foreign exchange student.

"oh!" he suddenly lets out, looking over at you. "did you need something in the gym?"

"i was looking for my cousin," you sigh. "he said he was in the volleyball club and i haven't been able to find him at all today."

he's shocked when he finds out that you're shoyo's cousin—the boy had talked about you earlier in the week when he found out you were transferring to karasuno. as you talk, tadashi thinks to himself that shoyo never mentioned how cute you were.

your first meeting with keishin is awkward

ltrly knocks you off your feet when he runs into you

he's kind of brash when he meets you, not caring if you think of him badly because of it

you don't have much of a relationship at first—your work pulls you to the classrooms after all, so he doesn't really see you around often

the next time he sees you, you're stomping into the gymnasium mid practice with an irked expression

he's about to tell you off for interrupting practice, but he quiets when he sees you make your way to your younger cousin

he only watches in amusement when you tell him off for his horrid grades

when shoyo turns to keishin for help, he only shrugs with a lazy grin on his face

"sorry, little man, you heard 'em. no volleyball games until you raise your grades"

to shoyo's chagrin, you and keishin make a terrifying pair for him (and the other three idiots lolol)

you only really start hanging out with him when you end up making a late night run at his convenience store

it's the first time he sees you in casual clothing and the case of beer in your hands makes him laugh

"you wanna share that?"

he becomes your drinking buddy every other weekend, and he grows to cherish the time you spend chugging back cans of beer with him

keeps his feelings on the downlow, but as time goes on even the boys realize that their coach has a soft spot for you

ukai keishin! bodies you the first time you meet. the man doesn't realize his own strength until he literally knocks you flat on his ass after he turns a corner and bumps into you. his eyes go wide when the books and papers in your hands go flying, falling around you in a frenzy.

"shit," he curses under his breath, bending down to pick up your things. "sorry 'bout that." his voice is gruff as he speaks, collecting your papers without much care. when he returns them to you, some of them are scuffed and crumpled.

as he's handing you your things, he finally gets a good look at you. you're dressed more formally than he is by a mile. he holds a hand out to help you to your feet, his brown eyes falling to the lanyard around your neck.

"you new here?" he asks, jutting his chin out to gesture to your nametag. student teacher is typed above your name and picture.

you nod deftly, brushing off any dirt from your dress pants. "i started today. and you are?" your eyes meet his, and he knows you're silently scrutinizing him. he's much too old to be a student, you deduce easily, but he's dressed far more casually than any other other teachers.

when your eyes drift up to his bleached hair, he snorts. "i'm the coach for the volleyball club," he grumbles. "i don't need to be wearing fancy shit like you."

he sees your eyes light up in recognition as he analyzes your face with crossed arms. "the volleyball club? you must know my cousin then. hinata shoyo?"

keishin deadpans at you. "you're the runt's cousin?"

©AVATARCHIC please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

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devil-in-hiding · 4 months ago

Text

On The Run

pt 4

Ghost was silent as you disinfected his hand, watching with interest as you dab the cotton against the wounds. “You really don’t have to do this, I deserved it for being so rough with ya.” He mutters after some time, and you wave him off.

“You did deserve it, but I still don’t want it getting infected and you don’t seem the type to take care of it.” You huff, grabbing the bandage off the bathroom counter.

He watches you, tracking your movements as you gingerly wrap his hand. “There. We can check on that in a day or two.” You announce, patting his cheek and you bite back a smile at the indignant scoff he makes, batting your hand away.

“Oh so you and Price can grab me but I can’t touch?” You roll your eyes, cleaning up the small mess you made as Ghost flexes his hand, looking at the bandage with an unreadable look in his eye.

“Did I wrap it too tight? I’m sorry, let me-“

“It’s fine little bird, thank you.” His voice is soft, his eyes locked on the white wrap. He blinks when you gently slip your palm into his, squeezing gently.

“Why don’t you get some sleep? I can tell you need it.” Your voice is barely a whisper, and you smile when you feel him squeeze your hand ever so slightly in return, but makes no move to stand. His eyes are tired, and there’s a strand of hair sticking out from the eye hole and you pause.

“Would you… would you be more comfortable with that off? I can wash it for you.” You offer, wincing only slightly when his grip tightens.

“Don’t wanna scare ya anymore than I have.” He states bluntly, making you frown. “How is your face going to scare me?” You ask, raising a brow as you cautiously reach for the edge of the ski mask. You anticipate him grabbing your wrist, but not the flicker of panic that flashes in his eyes and you back off, guilt settling low in your stomach.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to, I just thought you’d be more comfortable with it off…” You apologize, lowering your gaze. You go to pull your hand back, clearly having overstepped, but he stops you, pulling your hand back to his lap and he glares at the ground.

“It ain’t pretty.” Is all he offers after a moment, and you tilt your head. “Doesn’t mean you’re gonna scare me Ghost.” You soothe, trying to get him to look at you. A few hours ago you would have laughed seeing this guy acting so small, but now you just want to help them feel… safe. How funny.

As though he’s reading your thoughts, his eyes lift to meet yours, and you can see a million different questions dancing there. “You ever looked into the face of a monster?” He asks, and that takes you back, and he watches the way your eyebrows furrow.

“I don’t-“

“I have done some awful fuckin things little bird. Monsterous things. Things that keep me awake at night, I’m a-“

“That doesn’t make you a monster.” You hiss, and he narrows his eyes, ready to bark back but you cut him off. “Do you view your team as monsters? Do you deem them any less human because of the lives they’ve taken? Is Price a monster?” You snap, and his mouth slams shut, teeth clacking and you see his nostrils flare. Price must be a sensitive nerve.

“He told me. He told me what the four of you have done. He told me all the awful fucking things you four had to witness first hand. The things you did to keep those who needed protecting safe and I want to do that for you!”

His eyes widen behind the mask, and the silence hangs heavy in the air.

You search his eyes for a moment, before slowly reaching back towards the hem of the mask.

“You don’t scare me Ghost. Maybe a few hours ago but not now.”

“How can you be so sure?” He whispers, gripping your wrists but his touch is gentle, hands shaking.

“Do you feel bad about holding that knife to my throat?” You ask, and his eyes flash, and he tugs you closer by your wrists. “More than anything. We… I was just… scared.” His voice is small, eyes shining with unshed tears as you slowly pull the ski mask up and off, and he shrinks back as you look over his features.

He’s waiting for it, waiting for the gasp, the look of disgust.

But you only hum, brushing a strand of hair away from his eyes before gently tracing one of the scars littered along his cheek.

“Now where is that monster you were telling me about, hm?” You tease softly, and his lip trembles as you softly cup his cheek.

“I don’t see any monsters here, just a man who desperately needs some sleep.” He tries to fight back the tears, but his cheeks are hot and sticky and he struggles to suck in a breath.

He freezes when he feels you tug him forward, just for his head to land on your chest, a hand in his hair, grounding.

Comforting.

“You guys are safe here. I promise.” You whisper, the only answer you receive is Ghost fisting the back of your hoodie as he buries his face deeper into your chest to muffle his sobs.

“Absolute fuckin idiot.” He chokes out, and you raise a brow, running a hand through his hair. “Who?”

“Who ever fuckin’ divorces a walkin’ fuckin’ dream.” He spits, yanking at your hoodie like a pouting child, cheeks shining with tears and you can’t help it, you giggle, loud and bright.

“So you’ve said.” You laugh, and he shakes his head. “Should ‘ave his ass kicked.” He mutters, and you have to bite back the sharp reply waiting at the tip of your tongue, instead just tilting his head back so you could meet his gaze.

“You need to rest. Let’s get you to bed.” You order, and he blinks at you, before the hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Inviting me to bed already little bird? Cheeky.” He grins, and it’s a little crooked, and it makes your heart stutter, a shy smile fighting its way to your face.

“The hell the two of you doin’ in here?” Price gripes, and you jump, Ghost tugging you closer instinctively. “Bonding.” He mumbles, resting his cheek against your chest and you glance over your shoulder. Price stares at the two of you, brow raised, but when his eyes settle on the man wrapped around you, you can physically see him soften, an easy smile spreading across his face.

“Gonna stop wearing that damn thing then?” He asks, crossing his arms as he leans against the door frame, and Ghost shrugs. “Thinkin’ about it.” He admits softly, propping his chin on your chest so he can gaze up at you. It’s oddly intimate, and it has your heart racing, giving him one last timid smile before tapping his cheek.

“Bed. Now.”

“Oh she’s a bossy one.” Price chuckles, and you shoo him off. “Both of you, bed!” You laugh, cheeks warm as you step away from Ghost, who you swear whines at the loss of you in his arms.

The three of you shuffle out of the bathroom, and you glance around. “Didn’t have the heart to wake ‘em. Gaz is just about crushing the poor lad but they’re both out like a light.” Price explains, and you nod. “Well, I’ll leave some blanket for them.” You decide, grabbing one of the bigger fur blankets from the closet, and when you stand straight, you’re sandwiched between the two of them, and your breath catches.

“What are you two doing?” You squeak, just to feel two pairs of lips brushing your cheeks.

“Thank you pretty. For everything.” Price mutters, voice low and tired.

“Can’t tell you how much it means to us, really. We’ll repay you anyway we can.” Ghost continues, a rough hand caressing your cheek and you swallow down a whimper, nodding.

“Of course. I’m glad I can help.”

“Don’t deserve it. Don’t deserve you.” Ghost whispers, and your heart slams in your chest. “I-I better get to my room.” You stutter, stepping away from them on shaking legs.

“Goodnight pretty.” Price hums, already tugging Ghost towards the large mattress as you close the door, clutching the blanket to your chest as you dash down the hallway.

Ghost allows himself to lead towards the bed, laughing when Price pushes him back, eyes bright.

“You know I love seein’ you out of that damn mask.” He breathes, crawling over his lover as Ghost gazes up at him, brown eyes tired but brighter than Price has seen them in ages.

“You sure this isn’t about you droolin’ all over our host?” He muses, reaching up to card his fingers through Price’s hair, who catches his wrist, pressing a kiss to his palm.

“Like you weren’t in bloody heaven bein’ buried between those tits.” He chuckles, lowering himself next to Ghost, who curls into his side, resting his head on his shoulder. The mattress sinks under the weight, and it’s not lumpy or stabbing his side with springs as he relaxes, sinking against Price and the fresh blankets surrounding him.

“She’s nice.” He murmurs, eyes fluttering as exhaustion sinks into his bones. Price snorts at that, pressing a kiss to Ghost’s temple as he feels his own fatigue winning its war.

“A god damn angel.” He huffs, dropping his head back as he caresses the skin at Ghost’s hip.

“Get some sleep love.” Price hums, letting his eyes drift shut, listening to the way Ghost’s breathing evens out. It’s been a long time since they’ve been able to sleep like this, wrapped around each other and Price swallows the rising lump in his throat as he settles in, tugging his man as close as he can before finally letting exhaustion take over, drifting into a dreamless sleep, finally.

#on the run #poly 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #simon riley x john price #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #cod modern warfare

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beloveds-embrace · 24 days ago

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Noonaaa can I possibly request more angst Dukedome without kiong pretty please? 🙏🏽

You kept this pretty vague for me lovely so i went a little crazy on it 🫶🏻

Dukedom au masterlist

Dukedom angst, no könig

It began during one of the smaller gatherings in the duchy- a midday luncheon in the grand dining hall. Though informal, it was still attended by the many members of the household, key ones, and that obviously included: John, Kyle, Johnny, and several senior servants and as always, a special invitation extended to Simon.

You rarely attended such gatherings anymore, but John’s clipped instructions had left you with no choice and you didn’t want to make him upset at you. So you dressed simply, more out of habit than care, and sat at the far end of the table, an unwanted ghost in the company of the living.

Conversation flowed around you, lively and warm as always, and as always, you were left out. The words blurred together into white noise while you toyed with the edge of your napkin, staring at the untouched plate before you. The cooks had oh-so-kindly prepared yours in advance, and so you knew it was cold and bland even without tasting it.

Then it happened.

A maid- young, recently hired, and eager to impress- stepped forward with a fresh carafe of wine. As she refilled glasses, her gaze darted to you, a spark of something sharp in her eyes. Her lips twisted into a smile that wasn’t kind, and you prepared yourself in advance.

It still wasn’t enough.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” she said, syrupy sweet. “I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t touched your meal. Is it not to your liking?”

The table stilled. All eyes turned to you, and you froze under the weight of their scrutiny. You managed a small, polite shake of your head, your voice barely above a whisper. So softly said, you doubted you’d disturb dandelion puffs even if you tried. “It’s fine.”

But she didn’t stop.

“Perhaps you’re saving your appetite?” she continued, the tone of her voice sharpening. “Though, I suppose it’s not surprising you wouldn’t eat much. After all, you’ve grown so thin… like a shadow. It’s almost hard to tell you’re here at all.”

Her words rang through the room, cutting sharper than any blade. A ripple of unease passed over the table, but no one spoke. Not yet.

“Be quiet.” Kyle muttered, his tone warning and cutting her a sharp glance, but the maid wasn’t finished.

“Apologies, sir,” she said, bowing her head slightly, though the venom in her voice remained dripping off each letter like fresh ink. “It’s just… Her Grace is so very quiet these days. One can’t help but wonder if she’s even meant to be here at all. Perhaps she’d be more comfortable elsewhere? Somewhere she’s actually wanted and needed.”

The last sentence struck like a thunderclap.

Months of this. Months of this. Hours, days, weeks, months spent under this cruel treatment and thinly-veiled resentment.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

You rose abruptly, the legs of your chair scraping against the floor in a sound so loud it scared even yourself. You could see the maid flinch back, not having expected this. The room felt too small, the air too thick. Your chest heaved as you struggled to contain the emotion clawing its way up your throat, but it was no use.

Your composure shattered.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as your breath came in gasping, broken sobs that clawed their way out of your aching chest. For a moment, you looked around the table, searching- desperately- for something. A kind word, a gesture of comfort, anything.

But there was nothing.

You turned and fled the room, the sound of your sobs echoing behind you. No more- you couldn’t stand being there anymore. You didn’t care. Couldn’t. What did it matter anymore?

The maid’s cruel words hung heavy in the grand dining hall, a dark echo that left no one untouched. Her sharp tone and pointed barbs had started with smug confidence, but as you had risen and fled, your tears visible to everyone, the air turned cold and she faltered, falling silent.

The silence you left behind was deafening.

No one moved at first. Every pair of eyes shifted between the maid, whose face had paled as the reality of her actions set in, and the now-empty seat at the far end of the table. Even the usually indifferent servants, who kept away from interacting with you in general, shifted uncomfortably, their gazes dropping to the floor and shame curling in their veins.

It was one thing to quietly resent the Duchess, to mock you among themselves. But this… this was something else. The cruelty had been too deliberate, too naked. And it had broken you, right in front of them all. What could anyone even say?

John had never felt colder in his life. The weight of the maid’s words hit him like a physical blow, but it was your tears- the way you’d crumbled before them all- that haunted him. He sat frozen in his chair, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

When he finally moved, it was with an urgency that surprised even him. He strode toward your chambers, ignoring everyone and everything, his mind racing with half-formed apologies, excuses, something to make you understand that he hadn’t meant for things to come to this. He hadn’t liked you, but that- it was too much. Too far. A line that shouldn’t have been crossed. He had never seen you cry- not openly, not like that- and that image of your broken form looking around for anyone to support you will haunt him.

But when he reached your door, it was already locked and your sobs muffled. He knocked softly at first, then louder, calling your name.

There was no response.

“Please,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “Please, just… let me in. I need to talk to you, please.”

Still, nothing.

He pressed his forehead against the door, guilt clawing at his chest. Stupid, stupid- he should have stopped the maid from the damn start.

In the grand dining hall, Kyle and the head maid dismissed the maid immediately, his voice sharp and cold in a way that made her turn even paler and understand how severe her mistake was. But the satisfaction of snapping at her did nothing to ease the twisting guilt in his stomach. He had allowed this to happen. No, worse- he’d encouraged it.

He wasn’t the only one: the head maid, an older woman, simply stood there, biting her chapped lips as she stared at the door you’d fled through and then Duke Price went to. She didn’t have the time to say anything before Kyle was following, as well.

When he reached your door, John was already there. Kyle stopped a few paces away, unsure if he had the right to intrude, but the memory of your tears spurred him forward.

“Your Grace,” he said softly, his voice more gentle than you’d ever heard it. “I… I’m sorry. For everything. Please, let us talk.”

Silence.

Kyle exhaled slowly, stepping back, his shoulders heavy with shame. He could tell John had received the same answer, as well. Closing his eyes, he made his way back to the other butlers; ordering them to their posts with a sharpness he hadn’t displayed in months. “We’re done with this,” he barked. “No more of this disrespect. Do I make myself clear?”

He also ordered the maids to care for you as they should have all along, making it clear that any further mistreatment would not be tolerated.

But his authority rang hollow in his own ears. He knew it wasn’t enough- not for you.

Though they weren’t the only ones buried in guilt;

Simon had been the first to stiffen when the maid spoke, his eyes narrowing as her words grew sharper. He wanted to interrupt, to stop her, but by the time he opened his mouth, it was too late.

Now, hours after that mess, he stood outside your door with a small tray in hand. On it was a book, the newly released next part to one he knew you liked to read by your lonesome, and a steaming cup of tea. Between the pages, he’d slipped a note that simply read:

You deserved better. I’m sorry.

He hesitated for a long, dragging moment before setting the tray down gently by the door. He didn’t knock.

“I’m sorry.” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

In the kitchens, Johnny’s chest burned with shame. He’d always thought himself kinder than this, better than this, but the truth of his inaction was undeniable. He hadn’t stopped the maid. He hadn’t said a single, blessed word. His mother would’ve disowned him if she knew how far he’d gone, how little and much he’d done.

Now, he hovered by your door, a freshly baked loaf of bread and a warm stew in his hands. He shifted his weight awkwardly, his throat tight as he tried to think of what to say. You… didn’t even get to eat.

“Lass- Your Grace?” he began, his voice faltering. “I, uh… I brought ye something. Ye dinnae have to open the door. Just… just eat, aye?”

He set the food down carefully, lingering for a moment before stepping away.

Inside your room, you sat on the floor with your back pressed against the door. The sound of their voices reached you- pleas, apologies, hesitant words- but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer.

You hugged your knees to your chest, tears streaming down your face as their voices faded into silence. The weight of everything pressed down on you, suffocating and unrelenting.

You wished they did not see you now.

(Come morning, the head maid would leave a fresh tray of tea and an apology letter outside your door. The scullery maids ensure your office is spotlessly clean and leave fresh flowers from the garden on your desk. The cooks, spearheaded by Johnny, prepare your favorite dishes and leave them outside your room, warm and carefully covered.

The door to your room remains closed.)

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princessbrunette · 7 months ago

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just had the thought of rafe trying to massage bunny readers back but he got a little too rough :( and she gets teary eyed.

i wonder how he would react/apologize

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚₊˚⊹ ʚɞ♡︎ ˚⋅.

small groans left your throat as rafe dug his knuckles into the tired muscle of your back. he always was a little heavy handed.

he was also big on getting you to be grateful, too. small slaps to your cheek if you forgot to say thank you, regardless of where you were — or being thrown over his lap if you dare complain about something he provided you with. you liked it, it kept you in check — and yet, in your hazy, often confused mind, it occasionally blurred your boundaries.

rafe was doing something nice for you. he was rubbing your back because you told him it was hurting after he’d held you in an uncomfortable position during sex for too long. however, your skin was tender and your muscles sore — his hands worsening your already seemingly feeble condition. but, he was doing something nice. you didn’t want to complain.

“jesus, kid— why you so tense? would you relax a bit?” he sighs, thumbs sliding down either side of your spine. truth was, he was pressing too hard and it hurt — but you didn’t want to say anything, so instead you bite the inside of your cheek, closed your eyes and hoped it would be over soon. your eyes flutter open, staring at the pillow.

“oh, sorry.” you whisper, sucking in a deep breath as if to prepare yourself for how it might feel on untensed muscles before reluctantly relaxing. you expect him to continue, but he’s still behind you for a second, suspicious, squinting eyes boring into the back of you.

suddenly his hands are back on you, but only to gently take your shoulders so he could lean over you and get a look at your face— but with the touch you involuntarily tense up again. he’s frowning when he peers round at you, taking one look at your glassy eyes and tense jaw.

“whats the problem? somethings up, baby i— i can feel it.” he murmurs, not needing to project his voice so much given the distance of your faces. you blink sticky lashes at him, figuring there’s not much use lying now. guilty, you cast your eyes down.

“the massage is just hurting a little.”

when you look up at him, his face has fallen a little. rafe was no stranger to ‘hurting’ you, technically — but there were limits. it was on purpose. a cause and response.

“i…hurt you?” he enunciates, like he needs to be clear on the matter.

“s’not too bad.” it comes out barely audible and he shakes his head, backing up.

“nah that… was an accident, you know that right? i… wasn’t trying to hurt you—”

now you’re nodding, eyes wide. rafe was always a tad dramatic, but you didn’t expect him to feel guilty or anything. “i know, i know.”

he sighs, raking a hand over his jaw before looking back at you. “tell me that shit next time, okay? jesus.” he sighs and you nod, still somewhat feeling a little ashamed. you stare foreward, but your embarrassment is interrupted by an uncharacteristically soft kiss on your spine, and then one on your lower back.

“m’sorry. are we cool? yeah?” he drawls, lips brushing your warm skin. you nod, hoping he sees. he does, and gently but with expected ease rolls you over to face him.

“a uh… a shower would do you good, c’mon.” he stands up straight, taking a step before looking at you, the ghost of a smirk on his face. “dont tell me you need to be carried.”

“i do.” you giggle, lifting your arms.

“uh-huh. should’ve fuckin’ known. lucky i like doing everything for you, huh?” he chuckles, lifting you to go.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚₊˚⊹ ʚɞ♡︎ ˚⋅.

#erodaangel #rafe cameron prompt #bunny!reader

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mrsparrasblog · 8 months ago

Text

POLY 141 reaction to when they are the biological father

poly 141 with pregnant reader if they are not the Dad

Price: He never thought he would be the dad. The doctors told him many years ago that he would never be able to have kids, so when you got pregnant, he was there for you but knew he would never be the biological father, and he was okay with it. When the baby was born and was hairy as a bear and had a dot on his nose just like John, he didn't believe it. He didn't want to raise his hopes. "It is Soap's, definitely." After a week, the paternity test came back, stating he is the father. John couldn't stop crying; he was the biological dad despite all the odds. He was the happiest man on earth.

Kyle: He held your hand while you gave birth, so concentrated on you that he didn't even look at the boy when he came out. When the nurse placed his boy on your chest with the remark "prettiest baby they have ever seen," he looked at the boy who looked like an exact copy of him, with beautiful amber eyes, his skin color, and already forming a charming smirk. It was over. "Just a pretty boy like his dad." The baby turned out to be like Kyle, and you were so proud of him. Gaz was such a wonderful father, treating every one of your kids, whether it's Simons, Johnnys, or Johns, as his own.

Soap: He knew it from the beginning. MacTavish genes are so strong, so he was always sure he was the dad. To cut him some slack, you and he had the most biological children together, three copies of Johnny, who made you rethink all of your life choices. It was a bad birth since the baby weighed already 10 pounds, a typical MacTavish baby. He started to cry when he saw the striking blue eyes. "You did such a good job, Bonnie, gave me a perfect bairn," he kissed you and the baby all over, apologizing to you about the birth, and overall became the perfect dad. And all the kids loved him, whether biological or not, so bad that you had four boys with mohawks all the time.

Ghost: He was more afraid to be the father than anything else. "What if I turn out just like my dad?" He didn't. He was one of the best dads you could ever imagine. When he looked the first time at the girl, he was 100% sure it was his. Blonde hair, pale skin, and already way too big, it was a Riley. He always held the baby on his bare chest, a thing he learned in all the books he read. Skin-to-skin is so important. He became the international best girl dad. This bulky man wore her pink backpack, made tea parties with your daughter, and overall was smitten. He loved all your children equally, but still, his little girl was his world.

Author's Note: All of them treat the children equally, whether they're biological or not, but it's still somehow something so deep for them when they see their mini-mes. You, on the other hand, are pissed how none of the children turn out to look like you despite being in labor for hours. "Not fair." "No more sex." "Go away, Johnny, with your fertile genes." "Mhm, Kyle and John can stay."

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ohbo-ohno · 3 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 2 - Voyeurism

Ghost x Soap x F!Reader - 2.3k (on ao3)

summary: Ghost enlists you to help him give his pup a good show. (Soap's POV)

cw: dom!ghost, puppy play, man in a dog cage, consensual but surprise voyeurism (for you), cock cage, ring gag

“Stay,” Ghost ordered, voice pitched low and quiet, the same way he talks over the comms. Johnny’s reaction is immediate, shoulders relaxing as he sinks back on his haunches in the dog crate Simon had locked him in. “Quiet now, hear? Don’t want you scarin’ off the bird.”

Johnny nods, carefully keeping his expression flat instead of annoyed, the wide o-ring gag making it so that even the slightest sound he makes will be impossible to muffle. This is his least favorite part of the punishment – Johnny's vocal, loves being vocal, but Simon loves to make him really struggle when he's in trouble. There hasn't been a punishment yet where Simon hasn't either gagged him or gotten mean about any noise he makes ungagged.

(It would be easier to hate if Simon's mean didn't make Johnny melt, make his cock rock hard and leaky, but Johnny's not really in denial about what he is - being a slut usually gets him fucked until he's seeing stars, and it's even better if Ghost whips his ass raw beforehand.)

Ghost gives him another long, assessing look, and Johnny just barely holds himself back from shifting and earning himself even more discomfort before the fun can start. A moment later Ghost steps away, one last don’t fuck with me look sent to Johnny before he steps to open the door.

You’d arrived several minutes ago but hadn’t been let in. Johnny’s sure Simon made up some flimsy excuse to keep you out while he trussed him up in his gear, but he’d been a bit preoccupied with getting his cock crammed into a tight cage to really care.

He can just catch a glimpse of you when Ghost opens the door, a long expanse of bare legs and a skirt that can’t possibly cover your ass, and already he’s struggling not to groan and get himself in trouble before anything even starts.

“Sorry,” Ghost grunts as he gestures you in, and Soap feels a flash of surprise at an actual apology from his Lt. “Had to crate the dog.”

“Oh, that’s no problem,” you say, voice soft and lovely and God Johnny just knows he’s going to be miserable for the foreseeable future. “But, will he- be in the room?”

Ghost snorts, and Johnny shifts on his knees, lacing his fingers through the wires of his crate.

“Sure will,” Ghost says, closing and locking the door behind him as you shed your jacket. “He likes the show.”

Johnny can see the way your nose crinkles from where he is, a flash of disgust clear as day on your face as you turn back towards Ghost. “Excuse me–?”

Simon doesn’t bother answering, just jerks his head towards where Johnny’s cage is just barely visible through the open bedroom door.

Your face is still creased in disgust when you turn to follow Ghost’s line of sight, and Johnny just barely manages to bite back a moan as he gets a front-row seat to realization setting in for you. Your expression flips quickly from disgust, to shock, to confusion, to interest, flipping back and forth again and again before you settle on what seems to be tentative interest.

“He’s a noisy thing,” Ghost says, stepping up behind you and resting his hands low on your hips. “I told him to keep his trap shut, but well...”

You swallow, and Johnny can see the way your throat moves with the action, mimicking you unconsciously as best he can. You hesitate for a moment, standing on a precipice as Ghost feels you up and Johnny waits for your verdict.

“Not exactly fair, is it?” You finally say, leaning into the behemoth at your back. “With that thing in his mouth?”

The smirk on Simon’s face makes Johnny’s cock twitch in the cage, and the slightest sliver of a whine eeks out of his throat. He squeezes hard around the plug in his ass, breath hitching when that just makes him even needier.

“He deserves it.” Simon noses at your throat, mouth pressed against your skin. “Chewed up my boots when I was at work.”

It's an obvious lie, but you laugh and Johnny can’t stop the whine this time, leaning forward into the bars and wishing desperately that you weren’t so far away. The metal is cool against his flushed skin and he pants through the gag.

“Poor thing,” you coo, sighing as Simon does something to your neck that Johnny can’t quite see. “He was probably just lonely.”

Ghost makes a low sound of doubt, and if Johnny’s cock were free he’d be harder than diamond, he’s sure of it.

“Still, he knows he broke the rules,” Simon rumbles, and the two of you start moving forward, his big paws on your hips guiding you just where he wants you. “This is his punishment.”

You giggle when Ghost starts truly manhandling you, pulling your sweater off with little care for how you get tangled up in it and yanking at your bra with the same level of care. “What, watching us?”

Ghost hums an affirmative, and when you glance over at him and wink, Johnny moans. He can feel the drool dripping down his chin when you bend at the waist, pulling your skirt down and leaving yourself fully bared to the room.

Fuck, you’re not wearing any panties. The image of you walking to their apartment in a skirt that’s borderline indecent with nothing covering you…

Johnny’s hardly aware of the whines coming from him, doesn’t manage to get control of himself until Ghost slams a hand on top of his crate and jolts him back into reality.

“The hell did I say, huh?” He asks, scowling. You’re already sitting on the bed, legs crossed all prim and proper and oh Johnny can’t wait to see you ravaged. “You even listenin’ to me, mutt?”

Johnny jerks his attention back up to Ghost, eyes wide and pleading as he nods, letting his hands fall from the cage to his lap and hunching his shoulders to make himself look as rueful as possible. Simon is blatantly unimpressed, eyebrow cocked.

“Don’t give me that look. I told you quiet, and you’re over here yippin’ and barkin’.”

Johnny wants to glare and say that’s not true ye fuckin’ arsehole, I cannae even move my damn lips but he also wants his cock free from the cage keeping him soft, wants the plug in his ass to be a cock, so he gathers all his self control and ducks his head, silent and begging for mercy.

Simon gives it to him for once, giving in far more quickly than he usually would. Johnny attributes it to your presence and your cunt waiting for him on the bed, and looks at you from beneath his lashes with what he hopes is clear appreciation.

Ghost gives him one last look. “Don’t make me tell you again,” he says, before turning towards you on the bed. Johnny gets a fantastic view of him pulling his shirt off by the neckline, and hears the distinct sound of his belt being undone just a moment later.

His first test at keeping himself quiet comes when Simon drops his pants and leans over you, and Johnny realizes that he can hardly see a bit of your skin. Ghost’s got his back to the crate, and the bastard’s massive enough that he nearly swallows your form whole, leaving just your calves and feet visible when they wrap around his thighs.

Johnny lets his tongue rest on his bottom lip, panting loudly to try and ease the urge to whine and beg until you could be shifted to the side so he can see.

His patience, as thin as it is, is rewarded just a moment later when Ghost picks you up by the thighs and all but throws you to the side. You squeal at the rough manhandling, laughing as he settles himself over you again. Ghost quickly kisses you, swallowing any more sounds you might make, and buries one of his hands between your thighs.

There are words shared between the two of you that Johnny can’t quite hear, and the jealousy simmers deep in his gut. He can practically feel your lips on his, or Simon’s, wants nothing more than to be freed from both his cages and allowed to worm his way between your bodies. He's already stretched and prepped, he knows he'd be able to fuck you just seconds after the cage would come off.

But Ghost doesn’t come to free him, he just kicks his jeans fully off and strokes his cock above your stomach.

“Fuck,” you groan, loud enough for Johnny to hear now. You're squirmy beneath Simon, pushing yourself up against him and trying to hold him close with your legs. “I’m not sure it’ll fit.”

“It will,” Ghost says simply, unshakable confidence in his voice as he holds himself above you, lining his cockhead up with your hole. He goes at his own pace, all your pushing and pulling doing nothing.

Johnny can’t hold back his whine when he realizes he won’t be able to see, is stuck with just the sight of your face twisted in ecstasy as Simon steadily fills you. He wants to see Simon's cock disappear steadily, wants to see the rim of your hole squeeze him tightly and watch as slick drips down to your ass. He wants it so badly he could cry.

You’re quickly reduced to nothing more than the same pathetic sounds Johnny is stuck making, raking your nails down Simon’s back as he gives you no time to adjust to what Johnny knows is a nearly impossible stretch.

Your chest heaves, your breaths loud, and Simon quickly sets a pace that fucks any hope of speech away from you, keeping you soft and desperate beneath him. The sight of Simon’s powerful body moving over you has Johnny squirming, thankful that you’re loud enough to cover the noises he can’t keep in.

“See?” Ghost grunts, hips snapping against yours. “Fits like a glove, bird.”

“F-full,” you gasp, smacking him on the back as he bullies his cock into you again and again, your legs kicking out on instinct as you're overwhelmed by him.

“Damn right,” Ghost says, and Johnny wants to be you so badly right now that he can hardly breathe, eyes welling up with tears as he watches the two of you. Drool drips from his tongue in a steady stream, mouth watering at the show before him and the music you’re making. He wants to beg and plead, to insist that he can be good, that he’ll listen if Ghost just lets him out for a turn.

His cock aches in its metal prison, hole pulsing around the plug keeping him spread, and the first few tears drip down his cheeks. He wraps his fingers in the crate bars so that he won’t pry the cock cage off himself.

“Simon, Simon!” You cry, voice shrill as you’re chased towards a peak Johnny knows you're desperate for. “Right there, right there, right there, please!”

“You’re louder’n he is,” Ghost grunts, but he listens, fucking you even more roughly and wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you in place. “Gonna come on my cock, pretty? Gonna soak the bed for me?”

“Yes, yes!”

“Do it then.” He uses his free hand to twist one of your nipples, drawing a near-screech from you. Johnny can’t see much, not with the way Simon drops onto you to put his full weight behind each thrust, your body hidden beneath his. The two of you just become naked bodies pressed against one another, the rocking of Ghost’s hips the only true movement he can see.

You’re loud when you orgasm, and Johnny moans along with you, the sight of your blissed-out expression only driving his need higher and higher.

You’re limp beneath Ghost as he chases his own release in your cunt, your head rolling to the side so you can watch Johnny as Simon finishes himself off.

Ghost groans as he comes, burying his face in your neck as his thrusts slow. Johnny can practically feel the come in his own hole, wants something fucking him almost more than he even wants to come. The plug is nothing compared to Ghost's cock, he knows it, and he wants something to really make him burn nearly as much as he wants to get off.

You’re boneless and relaxed on the bed in the aftermath, your only noise a small sound of discomfort when Simon pulls himself out of you a few long moments later. Your eyes don’t fully close, though Johnny can tell they want to. Instead you keep your gaze trained on Johnny’s tense form as he fights to keep himself sane in his cage.

He can’t tear his eyes away from you as Ghost stands, finally able to see your fully naked form without anything else in the way. You spread your legs a bit for him, a silly smile playing at your lips, but the angle you’re at on the bed keeps Johnny from seeing your cunt.

Ghost doesn’t make any attempt at being quiet when he unlocks the cage, key clanking loudly against the lock and the lock clanking loudly against the bars. He’s just as brief with Johnny’s gag, almost dismissive as he undoes the straps and tugs it off.

Only once his mouth is free does Johnny finally turn to look at him, forcing his eyes away from your enticing form but still staying obediently quiet.

Ghost has that sated look in his eye he only gets after truly satisfying fucks, and that spark of jealousy in Johnny’s gut grows just a bit knowing he wasn't the one to put it there. Simon tilts his head when they make eye contact, and moves back from the cage enough to make it clear he wants Johnny out.

“Go get your treat, boy,” he says as Johnny shifts forward, staying on his hands and knees and whimpering when the plug shifts inside of him. “You took your punishment well.”

Johnny licks his lips as he turns and gets his first true look at your cunt, well-fucked and dripping slick. He licks his lips as he shifts forward, cock-cage easily forgotten when he gets his first taste of you.

#john soap mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #bo writes #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x you #johnny soap mactavish #Johnny soap mactavish x reader #Johnny soap mactavish x you #cod x reader #kinktober day 2 #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #john soap mactavish #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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crescenthistory · 3 months ago

Text

Still Just Totally the Fifth and Sixth Wheel, You Guys

Pairing: Regulus Black x Reader

Summary: The two couples, and one pair of best friends who are not dating thank you very much, finally go on their not-date to Hogsmeade.

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader (she/her pronouns), use of y/n, lots of bickering and banter, mentions of black brothers drama and angst, healing brother bond, hella pining, intimate moments, talk of kissing, brief mention of hooking up, featuring rosekiller and wolfstar

Note: this is part two to this fic. part three can be found here.

“Wait, but if it’s not a date now, can’t I join?” James called from where you were all about to leave him behind in the Entrance Hall.

You almost felt bad for him, but couldn’t fight the small laughter as you were the last of the six of you to turn around to look at him.

“Sorry, Prongsy, but it is still strictly for couples,” Sirius said, and upon seeing Regulus turn to him, about to argue, he added, “or those who are best friends enough to be mistaken for a couple.”

“So unless you finally win Evans over, or get much closer to Wormy…” Remus’ voice trailed off, the apology in his tone weakened by his sight smile.

You could barely make out James murmuring “totally unfair” under his breath, before he gave a tight-lipped smile and waved. “Will go work on that, then!”

“Good luck!” you and Barty called at the same time, though in completely different tones, before your little group turned back around to continue towards Hogsmeade and this dreaded not a triple date you were somehow sort of looking forward to.

As the six of you walked, the chilly autumn air wrapped itself around you, nipping at your nose and cheeks. You were trailing slightly behind the others, arms linked with Regulus, the both of you sinking into the easy silence that had always come naturally. His long, lithe frame was stiff beside you, and though he never said anything, you could sense his reluctance. His hesitation clung to him like the cold mist swirling around your ankles.

"Still time to run," you whispered with a teasing lilt, tilting your head towards the forbidden forest that loomed dark and mysterious off to the side. “We can ditch the whole thing. Just you, me, and a pack of hungry werewolves – sounds fun, right?”

Regulus glanced sideways at you, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face. "Tempting," he murmured, his voice soft and low, the kind of sound you had to lean in to catch. “But... it might be nice to spend some time with Sirius.” He sounded less sure about that part.

You squeezed his arm gently, offering a reassuring smile, and felt him lean further into you in response. You both knew that his relationship with Sirius had been strained, fractured by years of tension, secrets, and choices neither of them were ever fully ready to confront. That made the faint glimmer of hope in Regulus' eyes all the more important, both to you and him. An unspoken desire to bridge the gap both brothers had been toying with – you knew you would support him through it, no matter how long it took to fully heal.

"Well, if you’re sure," you replied, letting your playful tone linger, as if to lighten the weight between his words. “But the offer still stands. Any time, really.”

Regulus chuckled under his breath, his body easing a little as the two of you continued your slow pace. The rest of the group – Sirius, Remus, Barty, and Evan – were ahead, animated in their own conversations. Barty was half-draped over Evan, practically buzzing with energy, while Evan walked beside him with a brooding air, casting occasional amused glances at his boyfriend. They were a chaotic contrast, loud and quiet, impulsive and restrained, but there was an undeniable balance between them that was hard to miss.

Barty's eyes glinted with mischief as he stole a look back at you and Regulus. "Oi, lovebirds!" he called out, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "You're falling behind. Regulus, not getting cold feet, are you?"

Regulus rolled his eyes, but before he could reply, Sirius cut in with a bark of laughter. "He was born with cold feet, look at the state of him. But let him be Junior."

Contrasting statements you heard Regulus murmur beside you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch up,” you interjected smoothly, though not altering your pace as you gave Regulus a light tug on his arm, as if to shield him.

Finally reaching Hogsmeade, you passed through its cobbled streets, bustling with students eager to escape the confines of the castle. The Three Broomsticks was already crowded when you arrived, warmth spilling out into the chilly air from its open door. You were greeted by the comforting scent of butterbeer and the hum of conversation, the perfect haven from the cold outside.

Inside, you all squeezed around one of the larger tables near the fireplace. The seating arrangements happened naturally – couples with couples, as Barty heartily proclaimed – with Barty predictably claiming a spot beside Evan, his arm thrown lazily around his back as he chattered away. Sirius plopped himself down next to Remus, already in the middle of a bickering debate over who had a better strategy in last night’s chess game.

You and Regulus, as usual, gravitated towards each other, sitting opposite Sirius and Remus and beside Evan and Barty. You moved your chair closer to Regulus', so that your thighs were practically smushed against each other and you could hook your ankle around his. A faint smile played across his lips as he settled in. The heat from the nearby fire was welcome, but the slight tension of being roped into all of this was still palpable.

"So," Sirius started, stretching the word as if he were setting up for something, eyes flicking between you and Regulus, "what’s new with you two? Anything you'd like to share?"

You shot him a pointed look but didn’t bite. Regulus seemed content to let you take the lead on this one, his focus elsewhere, probably already imagining an escape route.

“Same as always,” you said casually, though your words were lightly laced with sarcasm. "Being unfairly dragged into your romantic schemes. Couldn’t ask for more, really."

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but Barty cut him off. "Speaking of romantic schemes," he drawled, "Evan and I are officially a thing now, right? Isn’t that right, darling?" He nudged Evan, who simply raised a brow in his direction.

"That’s what you’ve told me," Evan said dryly, though his eyes softened as he looked at Barty.

"Exactly," Barty continued, undeterred. "But Dorcas doesn't believe us! She thinks we're playing some prank on her. Now, how do we prove it to her?"

"Why doesn't she believe you?" Remus asked, a sly smile playing over his lips.

"Barty and Dorcas have quite the history of pranks none of us understand," you explain, looking half-exasperated half-amused at your best friend. "They try to convince the other of something untrue, only to laugh at them for weeks. Last year, Dorcas made Barty believe–"

"No one needs to hear that story, Treasure." Barty cutting you off made you and Regulus giggle, both knowing why he didn't want anyone to know, while Sirius looked highly offended of being left out.

"Well, I'd like to know," he tries his luck.

"Too bad I don't care for what you want then, hm? Anyway, how do we prove it to Dorc, because Evan here thinks it's taking it too far to shag in her bed."

"I would have to second Rosier on that," Regulus drawls, mirth still in his eyes from laughing at Barty's expense.

"Me too."

"No, no," Sirius gleams. "I think you should totally do it, I have DADA with her and reckon she could kill you in just about fifty ways."

"That would be a welcome sight," Evan says. Barty slaps his arm without turning to look at him, while waving his other hand in everyone's faces.

"Yeah, yeah, funny, funny – now let's talk strategies, you tossers."

As the babbling continues, Sirius and Barty turning out to be a perfect duo who makes each other so much worse, you lean into Regulus' side, looking up at him through your lashes. He is already looking at you, having turned his attention when he felt you shift.

You mouth a you good? at him, to which he smiles and nod. Your lips mirror his when you realise it's genuine, reaching down to grab his hand under the table and squeeze it. He squeezes back, before looking up when he senses his brother trying to get his attention.

"Where did you get these freaky friends of yours?" Sirius questions, gesturing vaguely to Barty and Evan, the latter of whom's hand was currently being gnawed on by the former. Evan's face remained impassive.

"First year." Regulus provided no further invitation, blinking owlishly at his brother.

"Yeah, that's really the only way, isn't it? Merlin, they're a match for sure though."

You cock a teasing brow at Barty as he lets Evan's hand go from his teeth, only to hold it in a death grip. "You that bored already, Junior?"

"Yes, Treasure, thank you for noticing. It needs to be addressed." Barty's voice is overtly dramatic, as he digs into his jacket pocket.

He conjured up a deck of magical cards, all but slinging the container onto the table, just barely missing the candles, as he began to shuffle them with a flourish. "Let's make things more interesting. Care for a game?"

"Doesn't seem like we're given much of a choice," Sirius murmured at the same time as Remus said sure! and elbowed his boyfriend in the side.

Regulus groaned. “We all know you always cheat Barty, I catch you almost every time."

“That’s because you don't know how to have fun,” Barty replied, flipping a card over and eyeing it dramatically before sliding it back into the deck. “And obviously delusional, as I would do no such thing."

He gives you a wink and you roll your eyes, albeit with a smile.

A small fight ensues between Barty and Sirius as they try and decide on what game to play, before Remus makes a decision for all of you, taking the cards from Barty to stock them properly.

"It's everyone for themselves right?" he asked as he looked down at the cards.

"No, Treasure and Regulus always play together." Barty's comment is off-handed, going off of instinct.

"Always?" Sirius' smirk is teasing as his gaze flickers between the two of you.

"Yeah, she doesn't care much for most card games, so we usually just pair off," Regulus explains matter-of-factly, though his voice is a bit quieter than normal and his hand unconsciously tightens around yours. It's only now you realise you're still holding hands, unsure if you should use it to ground yourself or panic over.

"Yeah, they're inseparable yada yada." Evan rolled his eyes, as if you two were just horribly exhausting.

"Just like us," Barty teased in an overly-happy voice, kissing Evan square on the lips with an overdramatised smooching sound.

"Disgusting," Evan winced, wiping his mouth before wrapping an arm around Barty and squeezing him tight.

Sirius looked thoroughly confused at the boys' expressions of affection, but seemed to let it go.

You exchanged an amused glance with Regulus. "You wanna look at our cards?" you asked, nudging him gently while eyeing the cards Remus had placed in front of you. He seemed to take a moment to rip his eyes away from you before picking up the cards, moving even closer to you.

Soon, the table was abuzz with laughter, shuffling cards, and accusations of cheating flying in every direction. It didn’t take long for you and Regulus to settle into a comfortable rhythm, working together to strategise while everyone else tried to undermine each other. Even Evan, typically more reserved, joined in on the playful taunts, a small smirk on his face as Barty egged him on.

“Barty, you’ve been ‘shuffling’ those cards for three minutes straight,” Remus commented dryly, watching Barty’s theatrical motions as he tossed the cards between his hands. “At this point, you’ve either enchanted them or lost the ability to count.”

Evan, smirking beside him, shook his head. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Oi!” Barty exclaimed, feigning offence, before tossing an arm over Evan’s shoulder with a mischievous grin. “Don't you lot dare forget how naturally brilliant I am. I know numbers and I don't cheat.”

"Yeah, you sounded really smart just now, mate."

“Brilliantly annoying,” you quipped, grinning as you drew a card from the deck and slid it over to Regulus. “That counts for something, I suppose.”

“Thank you, Treasure,” Barty shot back, tilting his head as if he’d just received a compliment. “You always know how to flatter me.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the laughter bubbling up. Regulus, sitting next to you, leaned in slightly, a small smirk playing on his lips as he observed the scene unfolding in front of him.

“They can’t help it, Junior,” Sirius chimed in with a grin that was borderline feral, leaning back in his chair as he tossed his cards onto the table. “They have to deflect. It’s either that or admit they’ve got no idea what they’re doing.”

“Excuse you, we’re doing perfectly fine,” you replied, your competitive streak flashing as you glanced at Regulus. “Reg and I are winning, aren’t we?”

Regulus gave a barely perceptible nod, lips twitching at the corners. “As usual,” he murmured under his breath, flipping over a card with precise ease. “But you don’t have to tell them that.”

Your quiet, shared moment of confidence made your stomach flip, though you kept your expression calm and collected. There was something so steady about Regulus, something that made it easy to forget about the noise around you, the teasing jabs from the others, and just sink into the comfort of his presence.

“Winning by sheer luck, more like,” Sirius teased, drumming his fingers on the table. “What’s next, Reg? Gonna let her do all the work while you sit there looking pretty?”

Before Regulus could respond, Barty leaned forward with a wicked grin. “Oh, he’s definitely good at looking pretty. Right, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes again, though your cheeks warmed at the implication. “I don’t need to answer that. Though shouldn't you focus on calling your boyfriend that, instead?”

"Yeah, I'll call mine pretty if you do the same to yours."

You stuck your tongue out at him at that, retreating back into Regulus to look at your cards.

He had stayed quiet, but you could feel the amusement radiating off him. He gave a subtle shrug, like the teasing was something he was long accustomed to. His knee bumped yours beneath the table, a silent gesture that said let them talk, it doesn't matter.

“Doesn't matter,” you added, taking another sip of your butterbeer with a smirk. “We’re still winning.”

“You two are disgustingly good together,” Barty agreed, leaning back in his chair and lazily drawing a card from the deck. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were the ones cheating.”

Evan snorted. “Shut it, Junior.”

“You adore me,” Barty shot back without missing a beat, pressing a kiss to Evan’s cheek, much to the other boy’s quiet amusement.

The group fell into a rhythm, exchanging playful insults and light bickering as the game progressed. You were deep in conversation with Regulus about your next move when you took another sip of your butterbeer, not realising a bit of foam had clung to your upper lip.

Regulus, ever observant, caught it immediately. You, completely unaware, kept talking, pointing at one of the cards in front of him and suggesting a play. He wasn’t paying attention to the cards anymore, though. Instead, his focus had shifted entirely to the butterbeer foam, and without thinking – without hesitation – he reached up.

His thumb brushed against your upper lip, so soft and natural that you almost didn’t register what was happening until it was done. His touch was tender, deliberate, like it was something he did every day. The action made you pause, your words catching in your throat as his thumb lingered for just a second longer, other knuckles brushing against your cheek, his skin warm against yours.

Your eyes lifted to meet his, and suddenly, everything else seemed to fade away. The loud chatter of the group, the clatter of cards, the clinking of glasses – it all dulled in the background as the two of you became the centre of a much quieter, more intimate world.

Regulus’ gaze was steady, softer than usual, like he was studying you, reading into something deeper. His hand hovered near your face, frozen in place as the moment between you stretched longer than either of you had intended.

You felt your breath hitch slightly, the warmth from his thumb still lingering on your skin, and the look in his eyes made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the game. There was something unsaid in the way he looked at you, something that hummed beneath the surface.

Neither of you spoke. The moment hung between you, fragile and delicate, like a thread waiting to be pulled.

For a second, you thought he might say something, or do something more. His thumb lingered, hovering just above your skin, and his eyes flicked to your lips, just for a heartbeat, before darting back to meet your gaze. Your pulse quickened as the silence deepened, the air between you charged with something new, something you weren’t sure either of you were ready to acknowledge.

But before anything could happen, Barty’s loud laugh from across the table shattered the bubble around you. Right. There were other people around.

You blinked, the spell broken, and Regulus pulled his hand back with a soft clearing of his throat. His expression didn’t change much – he was as composed as ever – but there was a subtle pink tinge to his cheeks that told you the moment had affected him just as much as it had you.

“Everything alright there, Reg?” Barty asked, his voice full of smug amusement as he leaned back in his chair, looking between the two of you with a knowing smirk. You felt the heat rise in your face again, but you didn’t let it show, instead giving Regulus a playful nudge under the table with your knee.

Regulus, ever calm, only narrowed his eyes at Barty in return. “Just fine,” he said coolly, though you noticed the faint curve of a smile tugging at his lips. He was used to Barty’s antics by now, and though he could’ve easily snapped back, he chose instead to let the moment pass, his arm brushing lightly against your shoulder as he shifted in his seat.

Barty, however, wasn’t done. “I don’t know, mate. You looked a bit… distracted.”

“Oh, he was,” Sirius chimed in, grinning as he kept his eyes trained on the two of you. “Completely gone. He’s mastered the art of selective hearing.”

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “I’m sure it’s just his natural state from growing up with you. Completely unbothered by all of your nonsense by now.” Deflecting, deflecting.

“I don’t know,” Remus added with a thoughtful look. “He seemed pretty focused on something else entirely.”

You were saved from responding by the loud call of Madam Rosmerta that all Hogwarts students had to leave for curfew. Groans sounded around the room, and around your very own table, but no one dared argue with her – they knew it was no use. Everyone began gathering their things, the light atmosphere continuing with playful jabs and comments flying between the group as they readied to head back out into the cold.

You and Regulus were the first ones out the door, regretfully, as you had to wait for the others. As you stood, tugging your coat tighter around you, the bitter wind immediately stung your fingers. You rubbed them together, trying to chase the chill from your skin, but the cold had already settled in deep.

Without a word, Regulus took your hands gently in his own, his long fingers wrapping around yours with a kind of care that felt second nature to him. Before you could react, he brought your hands to his lips and blew warm air onto them while rubbing with his hands, breath hot against your cold skin.

You blinked in surprise, but the gesture felt so natural, so easy, that it didn’t seem out of place. There was no hesitation, no awkwardness – just Regulus being Regulus, quietly looking after you in the way only he knew how. His hands lingered over yours for a moment longer before he slipped off his gloves and slid them onto your hands with the same gentle touch.

"Better?" he asked, his voice low and fond, almost like he was speaking only to you despite the many students bustling around you.

You nodded, feeling the warmth of the gloves and the lingering heat from his touch. “Much better. Thanks.”

His eyes met yours again, softer this time, and there was that unspoken connection again – only now it felt less like something that needed to be questioned, and more like something that just was.

“Won’t you get cold, though?”

“Nah, you know I run warmer than you.” There was an endearingly teasing tone in Regulus’ voice as he looked past you. “Plus, I’ve got you beside me to keep me warm, right?”

You bit back the always sitting prettily on your tongue, instead just nodding and pressing your nose into his shoulder as you stood close. For warmth, of course.

Sirius and Remus finally make their way outside, Barty and Evan not too far behind them. The first of the bunch give you and Regulus a once over when he sees you huddled together.

“Well, I’m glad to see tonight didn’t change my mind whatsoever that you two are a thing, whether you know it yourselves or not,” he says in a neutral tone, though his creeping smirk betrays him.

“I didn’t know that was still on the table,” you say dryly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Of course it was!” Sirius scoffs lightheartedly. “You two, sitting there together, basically telepathically in sync. No wonder you always team up for cards – it’s frankly disturbing.”

“Oh, come off it, Siri.” Regulus wasn’t looking at Sirius when the comment slipped off his tongue, so he couldn’t catch the slight hitch at the sound of his childhood nickname. You smile softly at him, but he keeps his eyes on Regulus, seemingly trying to keep steady.

“As your big brother, I don’t think I can. It’s my duty to meddle”

“Leave the kids alone, sweetheart,” Remus says, coming up beside Sirius with a knowing smile. “You’re just jealous you’ve never been able to sit quietly for more than five minutes, let alone work together with someone without bickering the whole time.”

Sirius gasped in mock offence. “That’s because I have passion,” Sirius declared, flipping his hair back with a grin. “It’s not bickering if it’s done with flair.”

Barty finally stepped out to hear that, and, always ready to cause more chaos, chimed in. “Oh, please. You lot wouldn’t know passion if it hit you in the face. Now, we”—he pointed between himself and Evan—“are the real deal. You should’ve seen us strategising earlier. Absolute power couple material.”

“You weren’t even playing together, Barty,” you commented, but he gave you a look that said please.

“My life doesn’t revolve around you lot, we have other things to strategise about. Like Dorcas.”

That received a few “right”s from around the group, to which you lovingly rolled your eyes. Barty blabbered on about something, stalling the group from beginning to move back towards the castle, and you took the opportunity to turn back towards Regulus.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and trying to school your expression as you studied what you found there. The soft crinkle around his eyes, the quiet warmth swirling around his otherwise cool irises. You took his bare hands between your gloved ones, rubbing lightly at them to keep him warm, as promised.

For another beautiful moment, the two of you stood still, lost in your own world. The noise of the others faded into the background as Regulus’ eyes flicked to your lips, just for a split second, before meeting your gaze again. His hands move to hold each of yours independently, fingers intertwining with yours, despite that exposing his skin back to the cold air again.

You felt the flutter in your chest again, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were – that maybe, just maybe, there was more between you than friendship. Before either of you could say anything, you pulled your gaze away from his, focusing it back to your group of friends, who seemed increasingly eager to walk home.

“Alright, lovebirds, you done being all cute, or do we need to give you more time?” Barty said, looking at you with a smug look on his face.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, but you quickly brushed it off, shaking your head. “You never quit, do you, Barty?”

“Never,” he replied, flashing you an exaggerated wink. “You know me too well.”

Regulus shot Barty a sharp look, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Maybe you should find a new hobby,” he suggested dryly. “One that doesn’t involve sticking your nose in other people’s business.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?” Barty grinned. “Besides, I’d be out of material if you two would just finally–”

“Barty,” Evan interrupted, giving him a pointed look as he slid an arm around his waist. “Let them be.”

Barty pouted dramatically, but he relented, leaning into Evan as they started walking. “Fine, fine. But I’m just saying – it’s only a matter of time.”

Sirius looked baffled at how easily Evan made Barty shut up, mumbling something about we should always bring him with to Remus.

Regulus shook his head, his arm brushing against yours as you fell in step beside each other, trailing behind the rest of the group. Your hands were still warm inside his gloves, and every now and then, your shoulders would brush as you walked, the quiet connection between you speaking louder than words ever could.

Regulus glanced down at you, his expression thoughtful. The quiet between you felt comfortable, but there was an intensity in the way he looked at you, something that made your breath catch again.

All that was running through Regulus' head was how beautiful you looked in the nighttime, surrounded by cold air that came out in white puffs when you breathed. How beautiful you had looked inside by the fire, laughing beside him, butterbeer foam on your lips – or better yet, his thumb on your lips. He realised as he walked that you were always on his mind like this, and you were always so unbelievably beautiful.

And finally, he realised that when he had looked at your lips, he wanted to kiss them.

Regulus knew that if he ever got the bollocks to do so, Barty would never let him live it down.

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johnpriceslamb · 9 months ago

Text

𝓽 𝓱 𝓻 𝓮 𝓪 𝓭 𝓮 𝓭 𝓮 𝓵 𝓮 𝓰 𝓪 𝓷 𝓬 𝓮

🪡 Before you joined the gang, you used to be a tailor. An event was coming up soon which involved looking fancy, meaning that you had to take his measurements for a new suit.

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓒𝓔𝓔𝓓 ! ⋆ female ! reader ⋆ hyper-feminine ! reader ⋆ very suggestive content w/ javier ⋆ close proximity ⋆ reader is mentioned to be physically smaller than said chars ⋆ poorly google translates spanish >.> ⋆ not proof read nor edited ⋆ wrd count/1.2k

🪡 arthur morgan ⋆ charles smith ⋆ john marston ⋆ javier escuella (sep) x f! reader

🪡 𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓷,

“stand still!”

You prattle on for the umpteenth time this evening. The loyal enforcer of the gang grunts at the feeling of the cold tape measure wrapped around his bare waist, as he begrudgingly lifts his arms up to avoid messing up the measurements.

“For someone so little,” He groans at the feeling of the flexible measure tightening deliberately around him, “You sure do have a lot of attitude.”

You ignore him, of course. You scribble down the exact number of his measurement down on a piece of paper with a slight hum. The beads of your delicate necklace hang delicately off your neck as you bend over the edge of the table a bit, elbows propping your demure head for support. Arthur couldn’t help but boredly take a peak of what you were writing down, before ultimately sighing as he hopes for this to go a little quicker.

the cigar in his mouth hangs low on his bottom lip, embers flying out from the tip. He takes another slow drag, before letting it out with a gentle sigh- to your direction. You throw the man a puffed-cheek glare, your little nose scrunching up at the smell.

He wouldn’t admit the fact that he felt warm when your fingers would touch his body so subtly when measuring him. Or when your face was so close to his ragged skin, he could really feel your soft breath. Did you always look that pretty when you’re concentrated?

“Hey, Arthur?” That familiar high-pitched voice catches his attention. His hands lazily grab ahold of his low-hung belt, before leaning in.

“Mh?” He lowly grunts, squinting his eyes at the sight of your beady eyes staring up at him. He chews at the end of his cigarette, letting out a huff when the smoke unexpectedly enters inside his body.

You cheekily smile, tinkering your dewy lashes at him to feign innocence. The pencil in your grip is tapped multiple times on the paper, “Wouldn’t pink be a suitable colour choice for your suit?”

“[name].” You’re lucky you were blessed with a cute little face, otherwise he’d have no issue throwing you in the lake nearby.

🪡 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓮𝓼 𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓱,

“..I’m not familiar with getting measured, I apologise if I make anything difficult.” Charles quietly explains to you in that baritone voice he had. You can’t help that sweet fluttering in your chest at the apology.

“Nonsense!” You wave him off with a toothy smile, “All you’ll have to do is stand still.”

The gentle giant in-front of you slowly nods. He’s not uncomfortable, but he’s kind of on the edge since this was new to him. But since it’s you, he can feel some of the tension in him melt. Usually, he tends to avoid interacting with other people at camp.

But you? Something about you made him draw closer.

“Just a matter of standing still? I think I can manage with that. No trouble with me.” A ghost of a smile slowly etches onto his dark skin at your expression. Almost.. puppy like.

You’re about to measure his full height to ensure the exact proportions of the suit are balanced, only to realise..

Your height (lack thereof.. oops.) comes in as a bit of an issue here. For plot purposes, there aren’t any stools around nor could you go on your tippy toes to measure him fully.

“..Ah.” Charles blinks at the situation. Amusement crosses his face, before gesturing to hand over the end of the measuring tape. He holds it just at his head, patiently watching you peak at the number it falls down to at his ankles.

“Oh my..” You let out a tiny squeak at the number, a shy smile appearing on your sweet face before scribbling it down on a piece of paper nearby.

“Oh my?” He repeats you, “What? Is that.. Is that bad?”

“No, no!” You stammer, meekly brushing your hands over your light pink petticoat, “You’re just.. Y’know. You’re tall.”

“Oh?” He smiles lightly, lovingly looking at your light expression, “I hope that won’t be too much of a problem.”

“It’s not a problem. Quite the opposite, actually.” You quietly mumble the last part. Oh dear, you can feel his gaze, practically warming up your soul, staring at you as if you hung the stars. You feel your cheeks heating up.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing!”

🪡 𝓳𝓸𝓱𝓷 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓷,

never in your life have you wanted to smack a man in the face so badly.

“Woah,” John grins like a newly wet dog from running through a puddle, “Y’here to take my measurements or to feel me up?”

All you did was just wrap the tape around the swell of his hips. Your cheeks puff out, purposefully tightening the tape to get your point behind.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind either way.” He cheekily smiles, before scoffing at the feeling of the measuring tape deliberately tightening around him.

You swear you can smell the scent of booze. You ignore it, before straightening your back to measure his waist. What you can’t ignore however, was that raspy drawl his voice had which somehow makes you fall for him over and over again.

He may be as dumb as rocks, but his little antics drew you in.

“Hey,” He calls out to catch your attention. You sweetly tilt your head up, and to the side when he looks down at you.

“You gon’ pick the colours of my suit, or do I get to?” He asks curiously.

You ponder, “Well.. Do you want to?”

He thinks about it for a moment, before coming up with an answer. “Nah. Reckon you should. You’re the professional, after all.”

You can’t help but let out a soft giggle, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

When you’ve finished his measurements, you excitedly turn to him to discuss the colour choices which’ll be appropriate for the event coming up soon. Both of your eyes meet and he peers down at you with a loving gaze, it catches your breath a bit before you force yourself to look down at the notes which contained your notes.

“I think your suit should have a low v cut to really show that upper-body of yours. Perhaps a classic navy blue as your primary colour, and— Hey! Are you even listening to me?”

He blinks a few times, a bit sheepish. “I am, I just don’t got a clue on what you’re saying, sweetheart.”

You can feel your hand tighten.

🪡 𝓳𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓮𝓻 𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓪,

“Ah.. Quite close there, aren’t you?” He has this.. devilishly handsome smile you want to wipe off badly. He peers down at you as if you were nothing but a little dollie while you measured his chest.

“‘M not trying to be!” You whine, going just a bit lower to wrap the measuring tape around his waist now. You hum delightfully as you find the exact number, squinting your eyes to see where the tip of the measurement tape lands on.

While you’re busy with your own little thing, you don’t notice the way Javier admires you from above. He can’t help but comment on it too.

“You know,” He starts of with a slow, lazy smile. Mischievous, even.

“You’re looking very pretty working down there.” He puts a lot of emphasis on the word ‘very’ in his sentence. It’s subtle, but if you were to be paying attention to him you’d get it immediately.

You tilt your head up to innocently thank him with a small smile etched on your pretty little face, before realising what his words were implying. That little..

“Javier!” You scold him with a very high-pitched tone. You feel your dignity fading away as soon as he replies with a mocking laugh to your whining.

“You know I’m just playing around, chica. Don’t take it so seriously.” His hand goes down to cheekily pinch your squishy cheek to get his point through. You frown.

“You’re horrible.” You babble, begrudgingly taking his last measurement. You’re very tempted to give him the cold shoulder, but decided against it.

“You’re too kind.” He sarcastically replies, that same lazy grin on his face from the start as when he sees you scribbling down some notes about his measurements and preferences. You throw a tiny glare at him, “I’m the one creating your suit here, be nice!”

“Mhm? I haven’t gotten to express my gratitude yet have I?” He takes the notepad away from you, setting it aside before easily picking you up by the waist and setting you on the table, your legs dangle off the edge easily as he nears you.

“Permiteme que, querida.”

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tetsuissohot · 3 months ago

Text

☆summary. an argument leads to a sloppy and wet apology.

☆warning/tags: 18+, fem!reader, angst to smut, curse words, tittie sucking, fingering, penetration, ends with fluff, mention of cum, unprotected sex

☆word count: 2.8k

☆a/n: please note that English is not my first language, and I am also dyslexic, so there may be some mistakes. However, I do my best to minimize them.

please support your creators! Reblogs and comments are really appreciated!

Shut Up, Darling.

It wasn’t typical for you and Kento to argue. In truth, he wasn’t home much anyway—most days you barely managed a quick "Good morning" before he left, so there wasn’t even time to pick a fight. But today—today your patience finally snapped. Like every other day, Kento had left for work before you woke up, and by the time he got home, you’d already eaten dinner and were lying in bed. He hadn’t even bothered to respond to your texts, where you simply asked if he was okay.

That silence hurt. After all, he was your boyfriend of years, and yet he felt distant, like a stranger. You felt ignored and neglected. The pain of it all, especially coming from him, stung deeply. When you did talk to him, it was like speaking to a machine, one that repeated the same, emotionless phrases—"I’m sorry," "It’s my job," "You’re right." Yet nothing ever changed.

“Why are you still awake, sweetie?” Kento asked as he stepped into the bedroom. His blonde hair was disheveled, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, and the first two buttons of his shirt undone. He lingered by the door, looking at you with mild curiosity—you were usually asleep by now.

You set the novel you’d been reading down on the nightstand and glanced up at him. “I was waiting for you.”

Kento raised an eyebrow, still standing by the door. “Waiting for me? You should’ve gone to sleep. I told you I’d be late again.”

You sighed, sitting up in bed, your patience already thin. “That’s the thing, Kento. You’re always late. Every day, you leave before I wake up and come back when I’m already asleep. I don’t even know what’s going on with you anymore.”

He ran a hand through his messy hair, a small frown forming. “You know it’s work. We’ve talked about this.”

“Yeah, we have,” you shot back, voice sharper than you intended. “But talking doesn’t change anything. I feel like I don’t even exist to you anymore. You don’t answer my texts, you don’t check in—it's like you’re a ghost in your own home.”

Kento's gaze dropped, his hands slipping into his pockets as he stepped further into the room. “That’s not fair. I’m doing everything I can for us. My job—”

“Your job,” you interrupted, your frustration bubbling over, “isn't an excuse to completely shut me out. I’m not just some background noise you can tune out when it’s convenient. I’m your girlfriend, Kento. We’re supposed to be a team, and I feel like I’m in this alone.”

He exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation. “You know I love you. I’m sorry, I just... I don’t know how to balance it all.”

“You always say that,” you muttered, fighting to keep your voice steady. “But nothing ever changes. What are we even doing if we don’t make time for each other?”

There was a long pause, the room heavy with unspoken words. Kento’s jaw tightened, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low but firm. “I don’t know what you want me to say. This is how things are right now. I’m doing the best I can.”

You looked at him, your heart aching. “I don’t need perfect, Kento. I just need you. And lately, it feels like I’ve lost you.”

Kento’s face hardened, his calm demeanor cracking as he stepped further into the room. "What exactly do you want from me?" he snapped, his voice rising in frustration. "I’m breaking my back out there every day for us, and all you do is sit here and complain about how I’m not around enough!"

Your heart pounded in your chest, anger bubbling up. “Complain? Complain? You don’t get it, do you? I’m not asking for much—just for you to act like you care, to show me that I still matter!”

His eyes narrowed. "You matter? You think I’m out there working insane hours because you don’t matter? This is what I’m talking about—you’re never satisfied!" His voice was sharper than you’d ever heard, each word like a blade. “I can’t be everything for you when I’m doing everything for you!”

You stood up from the bed, your hands trembling as your voice broke. "And I didn’t ask you to do all of this at the cost of our relationship, Kento! I’m tired of feeling like I’m talking to a wall, like you’ve already checked out of us!"

"Jesus Christ," Kento muttered under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. "Can you just—" He suddenly stepped forward, his presence towering over you. His voice dropped, cold and cutting, he raised his hand and aggressively, but not in a hurtful way, he squeezed your cheeks. "Just shut your fucking mouth."

The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you froze, stunned by his outburst. Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you in one swift movement, pulling your face with his hand and crashing his lips against yours in an aggressive, forceful kiss.

His hand left your cheek, now both hands are sliding behind your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you even closer, deepening the kiss. There was a desperate edge to the way held you, like he was trying to communicate something he couldn't put into words. His lips were demanding, a raw intensity that stole your breath.

At first, you were too shocked to respond, but the heat between you grew undeniable, igniting something primal in the pit of your stomach. Slowly, your body responded on its own - your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the tension beneath your fingertips. His kiss softened, shifting from anger to something more fervent, almost pleading. You could feel his heart pounding, his breath shaky as if he'd lost control for a moment and didn't know how to find it again.

Your lips moved together now with more rhythm, the urgency still there but tempered by something deeper, more vulnerable. His thumb brushed over your jaw; a surprisingly gentle touch that made your knees feel weak.

You leaned into him, letting the kiss consume you both, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between you. The world seemed to blur around you as the kiss deepened, his body pressing against yours, grounding you in the intensity of the moment.

The anger that had been in his kiss moments ago was now replaced with something else desire, maybe. Or perhaps even an apology, though no words were spoken. Finally, when you both broke apart, gasping for air, his forehead rested against yours. The tension between you crackled in the air, but the anger had dissipated, leaving something raw and real behind. You could still taste the kiss on your lips, the weight of his emotions lingering in the space between you.

Your heart raced, torn between anger and the raw intensity of his touch. He finally spoke, his breath hot against your face as his eyes bore into yours. “Kindly, shut up, darling,” he whispered, his voice laced with both anger and something deeper, something almost desperate.

He didn’t wait for you to speak – he just told you to shut up after all; his hands grabbed your hips, and they traveled under your pajama pants, his fingers digging into your skin. He guided your body closer to the bed – his breath was unsteady, just like yours “Shit-” he groaned in a low husky voice. He pushed you down on the bed, your body slightly jumping from the bounciness of the mattress – you gasp, you were mad at him, but your pussy apparently wasn’t, your clit was already on fire with just one fierce full kiss, and the girl wanted more than just a kiss, shit – you could already feel your heart beating in between your legs.

Kento didn’t waste time and got on top of you, his knees trapping you beneath him, his hands next to your head, before he got closer, he looked you up and down – God, you looked so good in your pajamas. He leans down, his hot breath hitting your neck, one of his hands leaves the spot next to your head and moves under your shirt, traveling up and down your stomach; his lips meet your body again, and he leaves soft wet kisses in your neck as he hums. They’re low sexy hums, the sound of his voice almost makes your ears orgasm if they could. “Kento...” you softly huff his name.

“Shh, darling,” he says against your neck, his breath tickling your skin, your body shivers and you can feel your panties slowly getting soaked. He kisses your neck again “I’m sorry sweetie-” he whispers in between the wet kisses. The hand on your stomach travels further up, and he takes hold of your boob and squeezes it, your nipple grinds in the middle of his fingers, and you gasp - “I didn't mean to be rude to you, I’m just tired.” he says before kissing your temple. The sound of your gasp and your heavy breathing, the feeling of your boob under his hand and your hard nipple between his fingers makes something inside of him grow – and in his pants too.

He pulls away and once again, takes a good look at you, his gaze is full of hunger and desire, his right hand, the one that wasn’t touching your boob, leaves the side of your head and pulls your shirt up to your neck, exposing your naked torso and your hard nipples. His gaze drops from your face to the hand squeezing your tit, his other hand now traces the side of your stomach, and his fingertips gently brush your skin – it tickles, and you can't help but contract your body at his touch and let soft sounds escape your lips.

“Let me show you how much I care, sweetheart," without a warning he gets closer and takes one of your nipples to his mouth – as instinct your hands that were grasping on the bed clothing, now grab the hair in the back of his head pulling him closer – he groans, the sound is muffled.

He nibbles your hard nipple, his tongue contours the firm tip leaving a trail of saliva all over your breast, the hand on your stomach takes hold of your other tit, and he squeezes it and holds it firmly – you have to bite back a moan. He starts sucking on your nipple like his life depended on it. The only sounds in the room were his muffled groans, your soft moans, and the wet sound his mouth was making – the sound of the friction of his mouth sucking your peak was music to your ears. But he couldn’t leave your other boob untended, so he went from one to the other, a line of saliva following from one nipple to the other.

While he starts working on your boob, one of his hands slides under your pants, and his finger teases your wet pussy through the fabric of your soaked undies. “Let me apologize to you~” he whispers. Your breath catches and before you know it his hand slides under your panties, his fingertips start playing around with your wetness, and they slide between your folds, your labia hugs his fingers “Sweetie you’re so wet, I didn’t mean to make your cute little cunt cry with my harsh words” he muttered, his hot breath against your areola.

You bite your lower lip as you suck up the moan you were about to let go, your fingers interwinding with his hair even more.

His middle finger starts sliding up and down your pussy, adding more sound to already wet noises coming from his mouth and tongue on your tits. After teasing you enough, he slowly slides his finger inside you as his thumb caresses your clit in soft circles “Oh, Kento~” he chuckled at your little moan as his tongue played with your nipple, his teeth brushing against it.

The tent in his pants was big and tight, so tight that the zipper on his pants is screaming for help – he keeps his focus on you, on the way your vagina feels around his finger and how your wet clitoris contracted under his thumb, he presses the finger harder against you, in response, you squeeze your legs at his touch and trap his hand in between your thighs. He chuckles again and pulls away from you. Your legs loosen again.

He makes eye contact as he pulls your pants down. The sight of you like that drives him insane, a small smile forms at the corner of his lips, and he takes a deep breath as he starts to unbutton and unzip his pants – his gaze never leaves your eyes, even when he pulls his cock out. His cock is so hard that slaps his stomach. Your eyes travel to his member – God, you really want his fat dick inside of you more than anything.

Nanami holds his big balls with one hand and strokes his thick length with the other, the precum helps his strokes become smoother “Shit-” the word escapes his lips. He lets go of his members and gets down so he can kiss your neck again.

“Can I fuck you? Let me fuck you, sweetheart. Please let me fuck you, baby.” he pleads as he gently bites your earlobe. “Please... let me show how sorry I am.” his tongue licks your ear in and out.

“Please... fuck me, Kento” you beg. He doesn't waste any time in positioning himself between your legs, he pulls your thighs closer to him, the way he grabbed them was aggressive and a little painful – you like that. He strokes his dick again and slaps it on your wet panties, teasing you through the fabric. In other circumstances he would’ve taken his time with teasing you like that – sliding his tip up and down your soggy underwear, grinding you before he finally gets inside of you. But, right now, he didn’t have time, so with his wet fingers he slid your panties to the side and slowly made his way in. “You’re so tight and wet, sweetie. Fuck-” he groans.

He places his hands next to your head and starts slowly thrusting you, his balls hitting you in the process and making a sloppy noise.

Your hands move to his back, gripping the fabric of his blue button-up shirt. Your moans start coming out louder and with more frequency. The way his cock fills you up makes you ecstatic.

His thrusts become faster, harder. “I’m so sorry sweetie.” he gulps and buries his face on your neck again, taking in your scent. “You were right- your pretty kitty feels so good, baby” he bites your neck.

With each thrust you cry out a moan against his shoulder, with each thrust the loose ends of his jacket brush against your belly, with each thrust he kisses your neck or bites it, with each thrust he groans near your ear and his hot breath sends shivers down your spine, with each thrust his balls slap your skin, with each thrust your pussy get tighter around his fat big cock, with each thrust his movements become sloppier, the wet sounds louder – your back arched, your body grinding against his, the fire on your clit burning, the electricity in your body growing and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Do you forgive me?” he asks, his voice a low growl against your soft skin.

“Yes- I forgive you, Kento” you cry out, and finally, your whole body shakes underneath him, at the same time all of your four senses come out more alive than ever you also lose them. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart” he apologizes, because he’s not stopping even if you're too sensitive.

When your orgasm is over your body is so sensitive that his touch hurts. But soon enough he fills you up with his cum “Oh- that’s it, sweetheart, take every drop of my cum” he growls loudly. His thrusts become slower until he finally stops and, still inside you he collapses on top of you. The moans suddenly stop and the only sounds are your heavy breathing.

“I love you so much, sweetie” he mutters.

As you start to play with his hair you mumble “I love you too”

“God... I missed you so much – I missed this so much”

You sigh “Me too”

Gently he pulls away and sits up in front of you, his dick leaving your cunt.

He looks down at your pussy and watches his cum dripping down your pussy. With his fingers he starts pulling the hot liquid back inside of you – you gasp again.

“Kento....”

“Shh, this is my apology gift for you. Now take it, darling.”

This was my first time writing smut like this! So please bear with me!!! Tips are accepted!

Masterlist

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papaya-twinks · 7 months ago

Note

Okay so what about Lando dressing all slutty at the club and then reader getting triggered because lets be for real, we all are. And then when they get back home he takes her against the wall? Like rough and hard? Idk I don’t do this a lot 🫣 Sorry if this is weird, have a good day

Warnings: Smut, 18+, praise, degradation, brattiness, spanking, choking

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Lando had never looked this good in his entire life. Well, you thought that, like, about every outfit. But this one. The white button-up shirt, open at the top, revealing his necklaces and a cross chain on his bare, tan chest. Fuck, you’d need that cross for forgive you for all those unholy thoughts in your head.

He deserved the party, after his race, but you wanted nothing more than for him to grab you by your neck and pump you full of him. So you were forced to sit on the little sofa in the club, his arm round your neck casually as he talked to Max and other drivers, blissfully unaware of the heat pooling between your legs.

“You good? You keep wriggling,” Lando asked, interrupting his own conversation with Max. “Yeah, just wanna go home,” you mumbled, looking at the floor firmly. “Hey. You feeling. Sick or something? You ill?” he asked, worried. You didn’t say anything, shooting him a look which spoke many words. “Horny,” he said, the ghost of a smirk approaching his lips.

You nodded, cheeks flushing as he stood up. “Sorry, guys, got a little thing to do,” Lando said, faking an apology, his arm round your waist. “Hm, let me guess, the thing you gotta do is Y/N?” Max snorted, rolling his eyes as Lando scoffed. “And what?”. Lando led you to the car, opening the passenger door for you, his hand gliding over the curves of your ass in the process, before he sat in his own seat.

“Needy, hm?” he grinned as your hand came to his thigh, tugging at his belt. An incoherent mumble left your lips at his words, his hand coming to yours and pulling you off. “Wait,” was all he said, pushing your hands away. You whined, trying to move your hands back, but he didn’t let you, starting up the car and driving. The entire journey, his hand was on your thigh, stroking the soft skin, your eyes closed.

Finally, you rolled into the driveway, Lando’s hand on your hip as he led you in, his grasp firm on you. As soon as he stepped into the house, he pushed you against the door, locking it behind you, his hand on your neck, squeezing softly. “Made me end my party early,” he whispered in your ear, teeth playing along your neck. “I was having fun,” Lando added, teeth tugging at your earlobe.

A soft moan left your lips at the sensation, his hand coming to cup your tit in your minidress, the other one trailing along the hem. “Fuck, you’re soaking,” he raised an eyebrow, finger playing against you from your thong. “Lando,” you gasped, the slightest touch of him already sending you feral. “I’m not taking you against the front door,” he commented, taking your hand.

You’d probably cum right there and then by the time you got to the bedroom, so he led you to the kitchen, sitting you on the counter. “Alright, baby,” Lando said, a look of triumph on his face. “You’re a desperate one, aren’t you?” he snorted, lifting your dress over your head. You leaned down to remove your platform heels, but Lando stopped you.

“Keep them on,” he said, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he leaned down, teeth grazing your damp thong. You didn’t even try and stop the filthy moan that escaped your lips at the feeling, his hand holding both your wrists to the surface of the counter top. You shrieked, bucking your hips upwards as he moved your thong to the side, tongue flicking against your clit, lips coating in your juices.

“Don’t,” he warned, pulling off of you, a groan leaving your lips. His hands came to your bare stomach, lifting you into his arms, as he walked up the stairs, your lips sucking and tugging at the skin of his neck. A shriek left your mouth as he threw you roughly onto the bed, taking his shirt off in one tug, pulling you against him by your thighs.

Your legs were once again thrown over his shoulders, your soaked throng pressed to his crotch. A groan left his lips at the feeling, eyes wide at your ass against his stomach. You couldn’t help but roll your hips slightly against him, making him frown and raise an eyebrow.

“Did I say to do that?” he pushed on your hip, his hand coming to your neck, the other unbuckling his pants. You gasped as his cock sprung against his abdomen, a thick vein throbbing along the underside. Lando moved his hand from your throat, bringing it to his dick, the other hand cupping yours bring it to his length. He was heavy on your hand, twitching at the feeling of your soft hands.

“Fuck Y/N,” he groaned, pushing your hand up and down his cock, his other hand pulling you forwards on your hands and knees. “Open,” he demanded, pushing his thumb against the roof of your mouth. You obeyed, parting your lips, only for him to frown. “You’ve had me in your mouth multiple times,” he leaned forwards, wrapping your hair round his large hand, “long enough to know that’s not big enough for me,”.

You nodded, parting your lips further, as you felt him push the head of his dick against your lips. One hand in your hair, Lando placed the other on your cheek, running his finger over the lump in your throat. Your eyes half-rolled as his length forced your mouth open, his throbbing tip hitting the back of your throat at an ever increasing pace.

“Fuck Y/N,” he held your head still, pushing in a few times, his groans filthy as he did so, before he pulled out, your gags lost in the heated, passionate kiss he pulled you into. “Lando,” you gasped, his finger playing at your clothed clit. “Mmm? You like that?” he cooed, hands coming to grip your thighs, pulling you onto his lap.

You didn’t expect his fingers to sink into you as you straddled him, his digits long and thick. “Lando,” you gasped as he added another finger, his thumb stroking at your clit. “Oh fuck,” you moaned, his fingers curling inside of you, your back half-arching at the feeling.

“Lift,” he commanded, raiding your body, before aligning his cock with you. He stood against the edge of the bed, your legs over his shoulder, his hand pinning your wrists down as you groaned, his cock stretching you wider. “Fuck Lan,” you mumbled, clutching at air as the bump formed in your stomach.

“You don’t ever stop moving, do you?” he growled, lifting you up, sliding out of you despite your protests. You shrieked as he pressed your body against a wall, your back on the cold beige walls, his hands groping at your tits. You felt his arms snake round your waist, lifting you against the walls firmly, your legs still over his shoulders.

“Lando!” you shrieked as he pushed in, your legs swinging up and down with his motions. This was one of your favourite ways you had was with Lando - when he held you up effortlessly, fucking you upwards, rough and fast. Your head lolled slightly, his other hand moving from your waist to your chin to roughly bring you back.

“Look at me,” he groaned, both hands slapping onto your ass as you half shrieked, half moaned. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, eyes trailing over your figure as he slammed upwards into you, your body shaking with each movement. “Got a fucking bump, hm?” his eyes fell to your stomach, his cock bulging through your body as he slammed into you.

You felt the knot in your stomach unravelling at his rapit pace, your hands clutching at his curls as he chuckled. “Gonna cum for me, hm?” he asked, cradling your cheek softly. That was one thing he loved to do. Ask you questions whilst he knew you couldn’t answer. Make you tell him what you were doing, or how you felt. It was hot, he could have that.

“Lando!” you moaned, your eyes rolling as you felt yourself come undone, his orgasm following shortly. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, head thrown back as he bucked his hips into you, his thrusts sloppy and wasted. “Fuck,” he mumbled again, hands tangling in your hair as he pulled you into a heated kiss.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #f1 #lando norris smut

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radio-fmm · 4 months ago

Text

The phrase “silence is louder than words” never meant anything to Sanji

Until now

You have been quiet. Terribly so. For the last 20 minutes and it’s driving him insane. Somehow he has missed you during this time, even if you’re sitting just a couple steps away

Your eyes are glued to your notebook, a steady hand that clenches at the poor pencil glides thorough the page. Usually, you enjoy this activity, a twinkle in your eye that hangs brightly illuminating the room. But now… you wear a pout, a scowl, eyebrows looking down in anger. Steam almost comes out your ears

You’re upset

I mean, clearly, but Sanji still hasn’t build up the courage to ask what’s going on. Because he knows the answer

When you started dating the cook, you knew his tendencies with women wouldn’t just disappear. But it didn’t made you happy either

You had talked about his behavior several times, asking for nothing more than respect which is the bare minimum really. Sanji had dramatically stated that he had no eyes for no other than his sweet angel which, was true in a way

So when you turned around in the market and spotted him salivating at a belly dancer that just happened to be nearby you weren’t surprised

But you also weren’t thrilled

Sanji adores you. You’re his light, his angel, his rock, his goddess, his life . He would do anything for you, hell, he’ll bring down the stars above if you just asked. But who wouldn’t feel insecure after their partner looks at another woman like that?

He hates himself for it, he’ll allow you to spit and step on him like gum if that’s what grant him your forgiveness. He needs to change. He knows it, he will do it a thousand times over, just for you

Slowly, he makes his way to sit in front of you, your movements come to a halt as you heard him plop down onto the chair, but you don’t spare him a glance

Ouch

“Hi” his voice comes out strained, frightened

You remain frozen, thinking on what to do… lash out? Curse at him? Stay quiet for another hour? Leave?

You just answer

“Hi”

A shiver runs down Sanji’s spine at your answer, the sound of your voice making him giddy, oh how has he missed you

“You’re mad”

“How observant”

“At me”

“Clearly”- finally, your eyes leave your page and find Sanji’s. He looks pale like a ghost, breathing irregular as he awaits his destiny

There’s another silence, this one is different, your annoyed tone sits on top of it leaving a sour taste behind your tongues, a silence that resembles a ticking bomb

“I am sorry” the cook fidgets with his hands, eyes pooling slightly at the thought of what will you do

“Your apology means nothing to me, actions speak for themselves Sanji…” your gaze is heavy, nothing like he usually meets it. You’re so light like the sea breeze, like a fresh lemonade drink on a sweet sunny day. Right now? You burn, hot like a spicy hot sauce that makes your nose run

You shake your head and sigh, a long tired one that makes Sanji’s heart tear at the seams

“I just don’t understand you Sanji… I would never do that to you”

This, this is the moment where you defeat him. Your sad puppy eyes looking up at him, the hurt behind your voice and the truth. Oh the truth of it all breaks him completely, of course you wouldn’t do that to him, you’re the most loyal kindhearted beautiful human being on earth

He swallows

Sanji considers throwing himself overboard for the sea kings to devour him whole, and that still wouldn’t be enough

He suddenly gets up and holds both your hands with such tenderness as he kneels before you

An offering at your benevolent temple

“My love, I know I did wrong and disrespected you and our relationship. No fancy sweet words could ever make a difference. So now I promise you, not empty promise but real this time, that I will change to he the man you deserve”

You shake your head once more. You don’t believe him? Are you finally done with him? There’s nothing he can do I if you decide to do so because he messed up big time

“I know I deserve better” Sanji closes his eyes and scrunches his nose at the statement, your voice drilling through his head and making him dizzy

It hurts, because it’s true

“But I don’t want better on anyone else but you”

His head that had dropped raises to find your face, you’re still mad, but even mad you offer him another chance while holding his hand through it all. Because that’s who you are, you believe in him, you trust him

“This is the last time-“

“Yes! Yes! I promise you my angel, you can kick me out of the crew If I ever even glance at the opposite direction of you, I will be better”

“Sanji” another shiver runs up and down his form, he loves the way you say his name

“Hurting my feelings and getting my forgiveness every single time is not okay. I would only continue to be with you if you show me change”

His golden locks rise and fall rapidly as he shakes bis head up and down. Carefully, he takes your left hand and kisses the promise ring atop of one of your fingers, a reminder of his undying love and devotion

A reminder that your love is stronger than anything else. Even jealousy and disrespect

The cold material meeting his lips makes him giddy. You’re way too good, he’ll spend the rest of his life making it up to you

“I am sorry, so deeply sorry sweetheart, and I’ll repay you being the best man, your man”

A giggle scapes you at the absurdity of it all. You don’t know when had Sanji wrapped you around his finger. If it were anyone else you would’ve walked a long time ago

But you know him, at his core, he needs you

And you love him, and he does too

Nami scoffs loudly making Robin laugh covering her mouth as to not drawn any attention, they can’t see your face but they can imagine both of you on the other side of the door

“I swear she forgives him too easy”

“Love is work” Robin says, whispers to the wind and Nami hates it

Because it’s true

#one piece #sanji x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #sanji oneshot #sanji imagine #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #op sanji #one piece one shot #he will be good i promise #that’s just how he is #fanfic

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