#but now I have to sit and spin it in my head over and over because of no ability to write hjgfsss-

[yoyomomiko]

Hiiii, I love your writing sm! <33

Could you write monster trio hcs with an s/o who is completely oblivious to their flirting?

Obvs u don't have to write this if u don't wanna! :]

pairings: monster trio x female reader

cw: luffy doesn't really flirt (I don't know how luffy would be flirting I'm sorry), not proofread , probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

— (a/n): okay so like... I kind of got carried away and didn't really stay with the request and I just realized it now that i'm done writing :(( it just doesn't feel right, I mean, they're not really flirting... it's more like, indirect flirting, you know?? i'm veryyy sorry!!! :(( -> m.list

— LUFFY

Luffy doesn't even understand the concept of flirting, he simply doesn't know how to flirt. He just does things that feel right, like holding your hand all the time or hugging you randomly.

He CONSTANTLY invades your personal space, leaning in way too close when he talks, but you just assume he's always like that (which, in a way, is true).

Luffy will offer you food, which is a huge deal, but you just think he's being generous and thank him without reading into it.

He calls you "his favourite person" or "his girl", but you just assume it's meant to be platonically.

He'll grab your hand and swing it while walking, and when you ask why he simply shrugs. "Dunno, feels right!"

If another guy talks to you, Luffy pouts and clings to you, but you just think he's being his usual affectionate self.

If you ever find yourself in danger, Luffy's protective instincts go overdrive. However, he doesn't exactly know how to express it in a way that makes sense.

He gives you his hat when it's sunny, grinning at you joyfully, like it's a big deal. And then you're just like "Aw, thanks!" And you don't understand why he looks so disappointed (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Luffy likes sitting next to you during meals, pressing his leg against yours. But you just pull away since you think he just needs more room.

He LITERALLY tells you "I like you a lot!" And you're just like "I like you too!" And ruffle his hair.

He tells you that he'll protect you forever, with the most serious expression ever, and you'll just assume he's being a good captain.

Whenever you hug him, he picks you up and spins you around, grinning like an idiot.

He trusts you with his hat. Like, he trusts you. He lets you wear it all the time, because he knows you'll take care of it. Heck, he's the one placing it on your head! You don't really think much of it, though.

Eventually, Luffy gets frustrated and just blurts out "I wanna be your boyfriend!" And waits for you to finally get it.

———☆

Luffy had been looking for you all morning, walking around the ship, asking everyone where you were. When he finally spotted you on the deck, sitting with Usopp, he rushed over excitedly. He felt his chest tighten whenever he saw you talking with anybody else, but he always brushed it off.

"[Y/N]! I need you!" Luffy grinned, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Usopp's conversation.

"What's wrong?" You asked, chuckling a bit at his sudden enthusiasm.

"I just wanted to talk to you! You always hang out with everyone else, but you never hang out with me!" Luffy pouted, pulling you along toward the bow of the ship. He threw himself down on the ground dramatically, patting the spot next to him. "Come, sit with me!"

You raised an eyebrow, a bit amused as you leaned over him. "Are you really this clingy all the time?" You teased, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Yeah!" Luffy exclaimed with a wide grin, nudging you to sit next to him. As soon as you sat down, he immediately leaned against you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I just like being close to you. You're my favorite person!"

You smiled and ruffled his hair, thinking he was being his usual goofy self. "You're my favourite person too." You replied, smile widening a bit. "You're a great captain."

He grinned, but then he got serious, standing up straight, staring at you. "No, no, I mean... I like you! I really like you!" He repeated, a little louder this time, a faint pink decorating his cheeks.

You blinked at him, not quite processing it. "Aw, that's sweet! I really like you too."

Luffy just whined, burying his face in his hands as he quietly mumbled something under his breath. You just laughed, patting him on the back as he continued whining. "I think you need a nap, Luffy!"

— ZORO

Zoro isn't the best with words, so his flirting is more about physical gestures, like carrying your things and such.

He always makes sure to sit next to you, no matter where you are, but you just assume it's a coincidence.

He trains shirtless around you more than necessary, subtly flexing, but you never seem to notice.

Speaking of training, he helps you train, standing behind you to correct your form, giving you advice.

I already said he's not the best with words, but he has a tendency to compliment you, although not directly. He might praise your abilities in a fight. You don't really think twice about it, but to Zoro, it's his own form of adoration for you.

He always glares at Sanji when he's flirting with you, but you just think they're bickering as usual.

If another man shows interest in you, Zoro's natural reaction is to stare them down with a glare. You'll never notice his intense gaze, because you think that he's just annoyed by something unrelated.

If you ask for help reaching something, he doesn't just simply hand it to you. He lifts you up effortlessly, just as an excuse to feel you in his arms.

If you're tired, he'll literally carry you to the girl's room. You just think he's being a good friend, as if he does it for everyone else (he doesn't).

He loves it when you nap near him during his training, he just likes your presence. You always think it's just because he's comfortable around you.

If you get hurt, he's the first to scold you. "Be more careful." He's the one patching you up, not letting Chopper get near you (unless it's a serious injury).

Zoro's way of showing affection is through silent protection. You'll never notice that he's doing it for you specifically, and he won't say anything to make it obvious.

He also kind of teases you playfully, as a form of affection. He'll make fun of you when you do something silly, but he's never too mean about it.

He gets SUPER protective in battle, always watching your back. He can't bring himself to look at you badly wounded.

Literally EVERYONE notices how protective he is of you, but somehow you never do. Even strangers think so.

Like I've said before, he finds excuses to touch you. For example, gently guiding you through crowds by the small of your back.

He also somehow always catches you when you trip. Right before you hit the ground, he's there, arms wrapped around you and helping you stand back on your feet.

Eventually, he just grabs your face one day and says something like "Damn it, I like you. Get it now?"

———☆

You were standing near the railing, gazing out at the ocean, watching the sunset, completely lost in your thoughts. That was, until you heard heavy footsteps approaching behind you.

"You've been standing there forever. You lost or something?" Zoro's voice came from beside you, his usual gruff voice a little softer.

You glanced at him as a smile tugged at your lips. "Nah, just thinking. The ocean looks really pretty right now."

Zoro leaned against the railing next to you, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't exactly great at this whole flirting thing, but if Sanji could do it, how hard could it be? He decided to go for something subtle. Something cool.

"Yeah, well..." He muttered, his gaze lingering on you a second too long. "It's not the only thing that looks pretty around here."

You turned to him, blinking in confusion. "Oh yeah! The ship looks great in this lighting too." You smiled as you took a look around, completely missing the way Zoro's expression dropped.

He sighed, shaking his head slightly before he tried again. "That's... Not what I meant."

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "Oh, you meant the sunset, huh? Yeah. It's really nice."

Zoro stared at you for a long moment, his lips parting slightly, trying to process how this was going so terribly wrong. He tried again, this time leaning just a little closer, lowering his voice. "I was talking about you, idiot."

You blinked at him, slightly tilting your head to the side. "Me?"

Zoro nodded, waiting, praying for the realization to hit you already.

"Ohhh." You finally broke the silence, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat.

"That's really sweet, Zoro! You think I look nice too?" You chuckled, as if he had just complimented your outfit instead of attempting to flirt with you.

Zoro groaned, running a hand down his face. "Yeah, sure, that's what I meant..." He mumbled, admitting defeat.

You gave him a friendly pat on the back. "You're getting a lot nicer, you know that? I think hanging around me is softening you up."

He let out a quiet scoff, turning his gaze back to the sea. "Or maybe I'm just like that with you."

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

— SANJI

Sanji is the king of exaggerated compliments. Every time he looks at you, it's as if he's seeing the most beautiful person in the world. "My darling, the moon is jealous of your beauty tonight." is a pretty common line from him, but you just think it's his usual behavior.

He constantly tries to impress you with his cooking. He'll make your favourite dish and serve it with grace, and when you compliment the food, he blushes as if you're complimenting him. You thank him every time, but in your mind, it's just good manners.

He will find any excuse to help you with something, even if it's small, like picking up something you dropped. And the moment you thank him for it he's like "Anything for you my lovely lady!" You just smile and move on because he does that with pretty much every woman.

Sanji's always the first one to offer you his jacket when it gets cold. Sometimes, when he gets brave, he wraps it around your shoulders and makes sure to linger closer to you for just a little longer.

He has a soft spot for you when you're sad, and he'll stop whatever he's doing to comfort you. He'll hold your hand, stroke your hair and whisper sweet nothings. You just assume it's because he's a gentleman, not because he's crushing on you hard.

Sanji can be pretty possessive, especially when another guy is even slightly flirting with you. You'll catch him glaring, and if anyone so much as dares to brush against your arm, he'll throw a fit. That person might get a foot to the face, but who knows!!

Whenever you compliment his cooking or his fighting skills, he gets way more flustered than with anyone else. His eyes will turn into hearts, and he'll literally swoon.

Sanji often stares at you with wide starry eyes but when you catch him, he'll just say something like "Oh, nothing! Just admiring my beautiful angel." You think he's being his usual self or just lost in thought.

He makes a huge deal out of holding the door for you, pulling your chair at dinner and guiding you with his arm. But you think it's just because he's being polite. He tries to take your hand as he walks you around, but you just think he's offering help, never suspecting that he's being a little more than just polite.

After all his dramatic declarations of love, he finally cracks. One evening, while you're standing by the railing, he walks up to you and throws himself down at your feet. "I cannot live without you! You're my everything, and I need you to understand that!"

———☆

Sanji had been watching you all day. When you first arrived and joined the crew, he had already been swooning, but now, after spending this much time with you, he was completely smitten. He had made your favourite dessert just for you, and now he was patiently waiting for you to notice.

You peacefully sat on the deck, reading a book, when Sanji rushed over, holding a plate of freshly made pastries. "Ah, my darling! I've made these just for you!" He smiled, leaning down with a hand on his chest in a dramatic bow. "Only the finest for my beautiful lady."

You looked up from your book, a little surprised. "Oh, Sanji! Thank you so much! You really didn't have to, but I appreciate it!"

Sanji's heart skipped a bit as you reached for one of the pastries, giving him a sweet smile. "Anything for you, my love." He muttered, but his voice came out softer, almost like a whisper. He was looking at you like you were the only person in the world. He pressed a hand to his heart, praying you couldn't hear how loud it was beating.

You giggled, thinking nothing of it as you took a bite from the pastry. "This is so good! I don't think I've said this enough, but you're really talented."

He blinked, and his face turned pink, clearly flustered by the compliment. "I only make the best for you, [Y/N]." He replied, his voice shaking just slightly. He leaned in a little closer, almost as if hoping you'd get the hint. "You deserve nothing less."

You looked up, gazing at him, smiling warmly. "Thank you, Sanji. I appreciate it..."

He sighed dramatically and placed a hand to his forehead. "Oh, my sweet [Y/N], how I adore you..." His voice trailed off as he stared into the distance.

"You okay?" You tilted your head, genuinely concerned. But once again, completely oblivious to how he was really feeling.

He slumped forward onto the table, groaning in agony. "I don't think I can take it anymore..." He mumbled under his breath, barely audible. "Why can't you see how I feel?!"

★yoyomiko ★miko

[maeintree]

pillow kingdom | s. reid

Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid may have three PhDs and an IQ of 187, but when it comes to battling his two tiny, chaos-loving children in an all-out Pillow Kingdom war, he never stood a chance. Pairing: father!Spencer Reid x fem!mother!Reader Word Count: 600 (oh.) Author's Note: genuinely wasn't thinking when i wrote this, saw my nephew and immediately got baby fever and just remembered spence being so good with kids and this is extremely mgg coded, so enjoy this fluffy 'lil one shot <3

You weren’t sure what was funnier—the fact that your two children had built an entire fortress out of couch cushions, blankets, and stuffed animals, or the fact that your genius husband, Dr. Spencer Reid, was dramatically attempting to “storm the castle” like a medieval jester on too much caffeine.

“You think you can defeat me? The all-powerful Dr. Spencer the Fearsome?!” he bellowed, holding a wooden spoon like a sword.

From the depths of the pillow fort, two pairs of eyes peeked out. Your daughter, Lily, narrowed hers suspiciously. “You don’t look fearsome.”

“Yeah,” your son, Max, added. “You look like you need a nap.”

You snorted into your coffee from your spot on the couch. They weren’t wrong.

Spencer gasped, clutching his chest like they’d just insulted his entire PhD collection. “A nap? A nap? Do you know who I am? I have an eidetic memory—I once stayed up for eighty-four hours straight during a case! I can outlast any of you!”

Lily pointed a tiny finger at him. “Then why did Mommy say you got cranky and cried over a vending machine that wouldn’t take your dollar?”

You nearly choked.

Spencer’s mouth fell open. “I—that’s slander! Your mother is a liar.” He turned to you for backup, but you just smiled innocently and sipped your coffee.

Max, meanwhile, picked up a stuffed T-Rex and threw it at Spencer’s head.

“ATTACK!”

The war was on.

Spencer ducked and rolled—dramatically, of course, like some kind of action hero who had absolutely no reason to be this extra—before lobbing a pillow right back at them. Lily shrieked and launched a plush unicorn in retaliation.

“You’ll never take our kingdom!” she declared.

“Oh, we’ll see about that!” Spencer bellowed, grabbing a blanket and spinning like a deranged superhero. “I have acquired the Cloak of Infinite Wisdom!”

Max squinted. “That’s just the throw blanket from the couch.”

Spencer gasped again, pointing at him. “You have your mother’s skepticism, and frankly, it’s terrifying.”

You grinned. “Taught them well.”

Just as Spencer lunged forward, Lily leaped from the fortress and wrapped herself around his leg. “I got him! I got him!”

Max charged next, full toddler-speed, ramming into Spencer’s side like an overenthusiastic linebacker. Your husband crumpled like a science nerd hit by reality.

“Oh nooooo,” Spencer groaned, flopping onto the floor. “My one weakness! Small, adorable children!”

“Victory!” Lily cheered, standing triumphantly on his stomach like she had just slain a dragon.

Max clambered on top of him next, sitting on his chest. “Now you’re our prisoner!”

Spencer groaned dramatically. “Curse you, tiny overlords.”

From your cozy spot on the couch, you smirked over your coffee. “See, this is why I married you. Not for your three PhDs, not for your genius IQ—but because you lose every single battle against two tiny humans.”

Spencer tilted his head up from the floor, where he lay pinned beneath his children. His curls were a mess, his glasses were slightly askew, and he looked utterly betrayed. “I don’t lose. I let them win.”

Lily gasped. “Traitor!”

Max grabbed another pillow and smacked Spencer square in the face.

And that was the day Dr. Spencer Reid was officially overthrown as ruler of the household.

this was soo rushed, and i'm sooo ughh. hope you enjoyed!! aha

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Playing for Keeps

Fandom: Women's College Basketball (LSU, USC, UConn)

Pairing: Juju Watkins x Reader x Paige Bueckers

Rating: T (Teen)

Warnings: Heavy angst, jealousy, territorial behavior, unresolved tension, eventual poly relationship

Summary: Being close friends with both Juju Watkins and Paige Bueckers was already a lot to handle, but when they both caught feelings for me? It became a full-on war.

Both were competitive. Both were used to winning.

And both, apparently, had decided that I was worth fighting for.

"You sitting courtside for me, right?" Juju had asked, leaning against my desk in my LSU dorm like she had all the time in the world. "I need my number one supporter looking good in red and gold."

I opened my mouth to answer, but my phone buzzed.

Paige [4:35 PM]: Hope you’re packing some navy and white, ma. Can’t have you out here in Trojan colors. Wouldn't be a good look for you.

I groaned, tossing my phone onto my bed. Juju smirked.

"That her?"

"Don't start," I muttered.

Juju chuckled but didn’t say anything else. She didn’t have to. We both knew that she and Paige could barely stand to be in the same room, and the fact that I was friends with both of them only made it worse.

The game between USC and UConn was already set to be a battle. But for them, it wasn’t just about basketball.

It was about me.

Sitting courtside felt like sitting in the eye of a storm.

Juju was putting on a show—deep threes, crossovers that sent defenders stumbling, celebrations that felt just a little too directed at Paige.

Paige? Oh, she was taking it personally.

Every time she made a play, she looked at me. Every time she scored, she smirked like she was reminding me why she should be my favorite.

And then came the third quarter.

Paige went up for a layup. Juju was right there. They collided mid-air, and Paige hit the ground hard.

The whistle blew, but neither of them cared.

Paige shoved Juju’s shoulder as she stood up.

Juju shoved back.

And suddenly, they were chest to chest, jawing at each other.

I saw it before the refs did—the pure, reckless need to prove themselves.

Over me.

"Man, they’re really about to fight over you," Taylor muttered beside me.

I buried my face in my hands. "I hate them both."

"Sure you do," she laughed.

They both got hit with a tech. The game went on, but the tension never left.

Three days later, I was still recovering from the absolute embarrassment of watching my two best friends nearly get ejected because they couldn’t stop competing for my attention.

So when I heard a knock on my dorm room door, I should’ve known it was them.

What I didn’t expect?

For them to show up together.

I folded my arms. "Y’all better not have come here to argue in my dorm."

Paige sighed, rubbing her forehead. "We’re not."

Juju nodded. "We figured it out."

I blinked. "Figured what out?"

They exchanged a glance. Paige spoke first. "We’re gonna share you."

I stared. Then laughed. "Hilarious. Get out."

Neither of them moved.

Oh. They were serious.

Juju shrugged. "Look, we get it. You’re not gonna pick between us. And we’re not about to sit here and act like we don’t both want you."

Paige leaned against the doorframe, smirking. "So instead of fighting over you, we’re just gonna make it work. Together."

My head was spinning. "You—what?"

Juju smirked. "What, you can handle both of us, right?"

Paige grinned. "Or are we too much for you, ma?"

I glared at them. "I hate y’all."

Paige tilted my chin up. "No, you don’t."

The worst part?

She was right.

I thought the madness would end after they worked things out.

I was wrong.

Because now, instead of fighting over me, they were ganging up on me.

And that’s how I ended up at my lacrosse game, standing on the field, watching both of them sit front row in LSU gear.

They looked way too comfortable. Juju was leaning back in her seat like she owned the place. Paige had her feet propped up on the railing, arms crossed like she was analyzing my every move.

Taylor, sitting on the bench beside me, snorted. "Yeah, that’s not normal."

"Tell me about it," I muttered.

The game hadn’t even started yet, but they were already making themselves known.

Juju cupped her hands around her mouth. "Yo, baby, don’t let me down out there!"

Paige smirked. "She never lets me down, Watkins. She’s built different."

Juju scoffed. "Please, she’s my girl too. We’ll see who she winks at first when she scores."

I groaned, dragging my hands down my face. "I’m actually gonna die."

Taylor patted my back. "Nah, girl, you’re just stuck between two of the craziest ballers in the country."

"That’s supposed to make me feel better?"

She shrugged. "You picked them."

I sighed. "No, they picked me. And now I have to deal with—"

The ref blew the whistle, signaling the start of the game.

And before I even ran onto the field, Paige and Juju were already yelling for me.

Loudly.

Taylor smirked. "Yeah, you’re never escaping them."

After the game, I barely made it to the locker room before Juju and Paige cornered me.

Juju draped an arm around my shoulder. "Not bad, superstar. But next time, point at me when you score, yeah?"

Paige scoffed. "Oh, so you didn’t see her looking at me after that goal?"

I groaned. "Can y’all not?"

Juju grinned. "Nah. We’re invested in your career now, babe."

Paige smirked. "Exactly. We gotta make sure our girl knows we’re here for her."

I exhaled. They were never gonna let me live this down.

Taylor walked past, shaking her head. "Man, y’all are something else."

Paige and Juju high-fived.

I sighed.

This was my life now.

And honestly?

Maybe I didn’t mind it so much.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[crowsofdarkness]

1940's Bucky has an offer you cannot say no to.

18+ CW's underneath the cut(oral with both male and female receiving)

Bucky always wanted to take care of me, it was in his nature to protect and make sure everyone close to him was taken care of. I was stubborn though, never wanting to have the help because I wanted to prove I can take care of myself. 

We were in the apartment he shared with Steve and Bucky invited me over for dinner tonight. He wanted me to move in with him and of course Steve. But I didn’t want to be a bother for both of them. Of course, he tried talking me into it more because he wanted to make sure I was taken care of in case he had to go off and fight in the war. 

“Please, doll. Let me show you how much I want to take care of you,” Bucky breathed in the crook of my neck, locking me into place against the couch. 

My eyes widened when his long fingers hooked into my pants, pulling them down to my ankles, and then made me sit on the armrest, spreading my legs wide for him.

“What if Steve comes home?” 

He tore his hungry eyes away from my pussy and up to my eyes. “Give him a show, Y/N.” 

I gaped down in shock at him which caused him to give a curt laugh. “I already locked the door with the deadbolt. I’ll have to unlock it if Steve comes home.” 

Soon his tongue flicked over my already sensitive clit and my nails quickly found his scalp, yanking him closer to me. 

“I fucking love the way you taste,” he groaned seconds before completely devouring me with his mouth. 

My mewls of pleasure sounded disgustingly loud in the small apartment. Bucky knew exactly what to do with his tongue to make my body ignite for him. His hair was a mess thanks to my fingers running through it, bucking on the ends to keep him in place. 

“Oh, fuck,” I shook when a finger slipped inside, pumping in and out of my pussy with such speed it made my head spin. 

“Do you want to be a good girl for me, doll?” Bucky broke away from my clit to look up at me with wide pupils. 

My arousal coated his lips and I let out a small whimper when I nodded. 

“Then move in with me,” he ordered before diving back in to enjoy his meal. 

I wrapped my legs around his head as another way to keep him close to me as my orgasm began to build and build. It teetered on the edge of the cliff and with one piercing cry of his name, I came apart. Bucky lapped up my arousal like a man who had just found water after trekking in the desert for days. 

When I blinked through the haze that danced at the edge of my vision, I noticed Bucky was standing in front of me now, lips and chin covered in my wetness, and he held up a finger; a silent command. 

I brought it to my mouth eagerly to lick it clean, humming at how delicious I tasted. 

“You’re such a good girl for me, doll. Fuck,” Bucky hissed when my teeth grazed along his finger as he pulled it out of my mouth. 

“My tun” I said with doe eyes while raking my nails down his bare chest.

In one swift motion, we switched positions so he was sitting on the armrest and I was standing in front of him; his large hand resting on top of my head. 

“On your knees, Y/N,” he demanded while pushing me roughly to my knees. 

His cock sprung free when I pulled it out of his pants  and I wasted no time licking up the precum at the head before swirling it over my tongue. I took his entire length in my mouth and bobbed my head up and down in fast strokes. He always had a tangy yet sweet taste and I purred when the head of his cock hit the back of my throat. 

“Shit!” He hissed and gripped the back of my head. “Right there, doll. Fuck, I’m gonna-.” 

When my hand began playing with his soft balls, I knew he wouldn’t be able to hang on for much longer. With a grunt, his warm cum shot down my throat and I dug my nails into the skin of his thighs. 

“Every.” 

Thrust. 

“Last.” 

Thrust. 

“Drop.”

I did. 

My mouth popped off his dick and I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand before tucking his cock away. 

“Yes, I’ll move in with you,” I smiled brightly. 

[e-dubbc11]

Truce

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Hunter Reader

Warnings: Couple of swear words, fluffy ending

Word Count: Little over 1K

Summary: Before going on a hunt, you and Dean get into an argument(a very stupid one) and are giving each other the silent treatment. On the way back from the hunt, Sam can’t take it anymore and wants the two of you to talk it out.

A/N: This is the same reader as Between a Rock and a Hard Place. My darling friend Dove @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend had the idea of me writing more for these two so this idea popped into my head and I rolled with it. It is quite ridiculous but I feel like this is something these two would argue about. Rambling again…sorry ☺️ I hope you like it!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Baby’s powerful engine whirred along the quiet open road with the sound of her tires spinning against the cold pavement. The windows were cracked open slightly, allowing the wind to zoom past your ears as you fumed with anger in the back seat while Dean did the same as he drove in silence and Sam rode shotgun.

You watched his hands as they tightly gripped the steering wheel. His knuckles appeared white while he continued to drive in silence, apparently still angry about what happened earlier tonight. His summer green eyes shot you a warning glare in the rearview mirror and you returned the glare as you angrily folded your arms across your chest.

Dean had spasms of irritation as his memory drifted back to the moment when it happened and you couldn’t understand why he was so upset with you. It was something you had wanted, something you felt like you deserved, and it was so close you could practically taste it. So you took it. No big deal.

He didn’t even put any driving music on, he was so angry. Sam had reached for the knob on the radio and with flared nostrils and a tight jaw, Dean raised one finger and shook his head. Sam put up both hands in surrender and then continued to stare out at the same scenery he had been looking at for the past hour.

And finally, after what seemed like days of silence, Sam decided he was going to try to get you and Dean talking to each other again because he had had enough of the quiet and the tension.

“Are you two gonna at least talk about what happened?” Asked Sam.

The only thing you could hear was the purr of Baby’s engine. You didn’t want to talk to Dean. He’s the one that was overreacting to all of this.

“NO!” You and Dean said in unison.

Sam rolled his eyes and pressed his lips together in a straight line.

“You guys can’t stay mad at each other forever; you sleep in the same bed.” Said Sam.

Dean’s deep voice sounded extra loud inside the close confines of the car.

“The hell I can’t!” Shouted Dean. “She never thinks about the consequences to her actions, Sam!”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here, Dean!” You shouted back. “I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done!”

Sam was doing his best to diffuse the situation like he had done so many times before when you and Dean would argue about, well, anything, like who’s to blame for getting pinned together in a tunnel while looking for a wendigo, or which one of you embellished more when retelling a story, if something went wrong during a hunt, arguing about who’s turn it was to buy food or put gas in the car, or the old “I shot him first…no, I shot him first…no you didn’t, I did!”

You were very much in love with one another but you also could be very immature like you were being right now.

“Really?!! You had no right to take it, baby!” Dean said.

Your eyes met his from the back seat as you replied, “You took all the others, Dean!”

“They only put them out once a year!” He yelled.

Tonight, before going out on the hunt for a vampires’ nest, you saw the box of them sitting on the kitchen counter. It was a white box with red lettering that said “Paczki” which were Polish donuts. Yes, you and your boyfriend were fighting because you took the last of his favorite type of donut. It was probably the dumbest fight you’ve had to date and yet the most intense, also incredibly childish.

“And I’ve never had one! I wanted to see what the hype was about!” You replied. “So I took it. Stop being such a baby, I’ll get you some more.”

“By the time we go back, there may not be anymore, y/n!” Bellowed Dean.

Sam had had enough. “Alright! Enough! I don’t know which is worse, the two of you not talking or yelling at each other. This is really dumb, you guys can agree on that, can’t you?” He asked.

One corner of your mouth curled into a slight smile. Trying your best to hide it, you replied to Sam, “Ok, maybe it is a little stupid.”

“Dean?” Asked Sam.

His reply was dripping with spite.

“She took my donut, Sam!” Growled Dean.

“Dean?!” Said Sam, matching Dean’s intensity. “You really gonna be that mad at her over a donut?”

“It was the last one.” He replied in a somewhat whiny tone.

In a stern tone, Sam said, “Are you REALLY gonna be mad at her over a donut?”

Your eyes met in the rearview mirror again as his lips curled into a smile. Inching toward him, you snaked your arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Sam’s right. This is really stupid. I am so sorry, sweetheart.” Muttered Dean, trying to keep his eyes on the road.

You began to run your fingers through his soft brown hair and gently nibble on his earlobe.

“I’m sorry too, baby. I shouldn’t have taken the last one. I’ll get you another box, I promise.” You said, kissing him on the cheek again.

Sam knew his work was done so he slumped down in the seat and went to sleep.

“I don’t need any more, baby. I gotta know one thing though.” Said Dean.

You purred into his ear, “What’s that?”

“It was REALLY good, wasn’t it.” Dean said with a sly smile.

You and Dean may fight over some really stupid shit but you loved each other just as fiercely and you would buy him a thousand boxes of donuts if he wanted them because that’s how much you loved him. You frustrated the hell out of each other but there was always more love and laughter than frustration.

You chuckled, kissed his temple, and replied, “Best donut ever, baby. Best donut ever.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @stoneyggirl2 @vaguekayla

Others that might enjoy: @k-marzolf @jvanilly @fluffyprettykitty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @deans-spinster-witch @savorxe

If you would like to be added to(or removed from) my tag list(s) for this smexy Winchester, just let me know!

[lilithschosen]

what if Agatha wants to watch the super bowl, but Rio has other plans...

a very go birds to you and yours (if you celebrate) and a very smooch to the forehead to anon for this prompt because holy shit LMFAO i love you

also on AO3 :)

Agatha fidgets with the brim of her hat, eyes glued to the television as the countdown drops under 4 minutes. 

“Hey,” Rio calls from the kitchen, “You want a beer?” 

She doesn't pull away from the screen, just turning to the side as she shouts back, "Yeah!" 

Rio snags a beer, hip checking the fridge door shut, and makes her way to the living room. She twists the cap off, handing it off to Agatha, and flops down next to her girlfriend. 

"So this is the big game?" 

Agatha nods, lifting the beer to her mouth as she sips it. She holds the bottle between her legs as she fidgets with her hat again. 

"So who are we cheering for?" 

"Eagles." 

Rio tucks her legs underneath her as she situates to get comfortable. "And they're the guys in green?"

"Yup." 

The countdown clock in the corner of the screen winds down to 0:00 and Agatha pumps her fist in the air. Rio laughs, leaning her elbow on the back of the couch, and rests her cheek against her fist. 

"You're not from Philadelphia, though." 

Agatha glances at her girlfriend over her shoulder. "You don't have to be from the city to support the team. Look at Patriots fans, they're fucking everywhere." 

Rio frowns. "I know you love sports and all, but are you going to be this intense all game?" 

"Yup." 

Agatha sets her bottle on the coffee table and twists her hat around, clapping as the kicker sends the ball flying. Rio attempts to pay attention throughout the fifteen minutes of the game. She laughs any time they mention the "tush push" because of how absurd it sounds. Any time someone does something, she asks who that was, and Agatha explains. Name, college, position. She has it all memorized. 

Honestly it's impressive. 

Suddenly they're in the end zone, the pile of green and white jerseys jump on top of one another, but for whatever reason the pile moves and the green jerseys all cheer. 

"Let's fucking go!" Agatha jumps from the couch, "You can't stop it!" 

Rio laughs, watching her reaction. Agatha spins around and kisses her, hand holding onto the back couch as she leans in. Rio kisses back, attempting to deepen it, but Agatha pulls back too fast. 

"Babe," Agatha scolds, "The game is on. You know that." 

She looks up at Agatha, batting her eyelashes. "Does that mean I won't get kisses?" 

Agatha rolls her eyes playfully, "I'll give you kisses if we do something good." 

"Oh, I'm tied to the Eagles now too?" Rio asks. Agatha nods, giving her another quick kiss. "I guess go Eagles then." 

Agatha smiles as she pokes the tip of Rio's nose with her forefinger. "That's my girl." 

"Big fan of the backwards hat aesthetic right now, by the way." 

Rio bites down on her lower lip, dragging her eyes up Agatha's body as the woman goes to stand up. Agatha just waves her off, grabbing her bottle and sipping it again. 

"Back, temptress." 

Rio scoots closer to her once she sits back down. Agatha's entire body is turned to the TV, only shifting to look at Rio whenever a commercial plays. Her thighs press into Agatha's, looping her arm over hers as she presses a kiss to her shoulder. 

The game continues. Agatha shouts randomly at the TV, chanting last names that Rio vaguely recognizes from the back of a jersey. She sighs, bored. 

Agatha rests her hand on Rio's thigh, finally leaning back to relax into the couch while still focusing on the game. Rio hums in approval, snuggling into Agatha's side. 

"So," Rio begins, lifting her legs to drape them over Agatha's lap, "There's nothing I can do to entice you?" 

Agatha stutters her attention, head turning to look at Rio and then back at the screen. "No, babe. Come on. I wanna watch this." 

As she says that, she grips Rio's ankles in excitement as a man in the green uniform speeds down the field before being taken out by someone in white. 

"I want to send the Giants GM a fruit basket." 

Rio frowns. "What? Why?”

Agatha pauses, patting Rio's ankle, before she tries to explain. "That guy that ran? He's arguably the best running back in the league. He was on the Giants and the Giants released him, so the Eagles got him. Now we're here." 

Rio nods along as Agatha speaks, winding her hand up her arm and twirling her finger around some of her hair. Agatha rarely has her hair down, but she does tonight, and Rio loves it. 

"You owe me a kiss, by the way." 

Agatha huffs. She turns to Rio and quickly kisses her cheek, turning her attention back to the game. 

"A real one." 

"Babe." 

Rio tugs the hair around her finger and Agatha yelps, whipping her head to face her girlfriend. "You're pushing it, baby." 

"Good," Rio responds, shifting her head up to the back of Agatha's head as she scratches just under the backwards brim of the hat. "Maybe I wanna push it." 

Agatha pokes her tongue into the side of her cheek, not wanting to look back at the TV, while Rio scratches her head. Rio shifts up from the couch, legs on either side of Agatha's waist as she settles in her lap. 

Agatha's hands instinctively raise, gripping Rio's hips. "You're dangerous, you know that?" 

"So I've been told." 

Agatha's hands slide down Rio's waist, grabbing at her ass as she raises her hips to meet Rio's. She feels the bulge underneath her baggy joggers, knowing Agatha packed with her "lucky" toy. 

Rio grinds into Agatha, rocking in her lap. Agatha's fingers dip into the covered flesh of Rio's ass, holding her firm as she rides her.

"What if," Agatha can't fight the smug look on her face as the thought hits her. "You get my cock nice and wet and then cockwarm me. I'll fuck you over halftime, if you sit nice and pretty." 

Rio squints at Agatha, pressing down onto the strap as they both inhale simultaneously from the contact. 

"You sure you can handle that, daddy?" 

Agatha nods, "I don't fuck around when the birds are on." 

"Deal." 

In the blink of an eye, Rio slips from Agatha's lap, dropping to her knees in front of her as her hands immediately reaches under the waistband of Agatha's joggers to pull out the green toy. 

"Look, baby," Agatha strokes the toy, simply smiling. "It's even your favorite colour." 

Rio doesn't respond, tucking her hair behind her ear as she immediately wraps her lips around the toy. She flattens her tongue, slurping it into her throat. Agatha lifts her arm up to hold onto the back of the couch. The brim of her backwards hat sticks into the cushion, partially lifting the hat from her head. Rio feels her wetness causing her underwear to stick to her as she looks up through her lashes at her girlfriend. 

Agatha pulls her attention from Rio's bobbing head between her thighs to the TV for a moment. She curses under her breath as the Eagles turn over the ball on downs, annoyed. 

Rio forces the full length of the toy into her mouth, gagging as her eyes water. Agatha snaps back to her, hands in Rio's hair as she pulls off of it. 

"You fight dirty."

"I'm just doing what you asked, daddy," Rio muses, "If you didn't want my mouth around your cock, you shouldn't have asked for it."

The crowd on the TV erupts in excitement, and Agatha looks up, catching the graphic of the Eagles logo on the screen as the team scores again. She nods, paying attention to the game now. 

Rio stands, turning as she bends at the waist, and she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts. She flips the waistband down, pulling the fabric over her ass. She stops, looking behind her to see if Agatha was watching her or the game. 

"Go on," Agatha goads, hand around her strap as she pumps it up and down. "You wanna keep showing off?" 

Rio falters, forgetting what she was doing as Agatha works her hand around the saliva covered toy. Agatha purses her lips, proud of herself. 

"You did a good job greasing the pole," Agatha quips, "Bet they'll hire you once the game is over to make sure those idiots don't start climbing."

Rio's brows knit together in confusion, but shakes the comment off as she removes her underwear. She faces Agatha, standing up, and places her hands on her girlfriend's shoulders.

"Easy now," Agatha's eyes wander from Rio's body and back to the television. She whistles low, catching the score. "We've got another ten minutes until the half. Think you can manage ten minutes?"

"I'm sure." 

She raises her leg, throwing it over Agatha's lap once more. She eases herself down, knees pressing into the cushions as she goes. Agatha's eyes stay to the TV, with her hand around the toy.

"I remember the last two times you wanted me to cockwarm," she begins, her own hand layering Agatha's on the toy as she lines the tip to her entrance. "You were the one that folded." 

"Huh," Agatha sucks air through her teeth. "We'll see."

Rio suddenly flips, her back to Agatha's front, and sinks down onto the toy. Agatha mumbles a prayer as she bites down hard on her lips to control herself. The TV screams, another midnight green graphic appearing for another Eagles touchdown. She wants to look, see what player did what, to celebrate along with them, but she can't pull her eyes off the rapidly disappearing green toy into Rio's cunt. 

Rio braces herself on Agatha's knees, leaning forward as she bounces once on the toy. Agatha strains a moan, keeping it in her throat. Rio tightens around the toy, flexing her thigh muscles and practically purrs. 

"Think you'll be able to last?" Rio questions, glancing over her shoulder to Agatha. Agatha only widens her eyes in response, the brim of her backwards hat pushing off her head with her relaxed posture into the couch.

Agatha hones in on the play clock on the screen. Six minutes left in the second quarter. To Rio, that's literally six minutes. To Agatha, with the annoying Superbowl ads, timeouts remaining, and potential plays and penalties that'll stop time? It's an eternity. 

The players line up, crouching as the ball is snapped. The man in the green jersey with the football shifts back before tossing the ball through the air. Agatha sits forward, pushing Rio forward as she goes, and cheers as the ball is caught. The man is thrown to the ground, but they're that much closer to the end zone. 

Rio settles back, forcing her hips down into Agatha's, and she whimpers at the full feeling. Agatha rolls her hips up, the tip of the toy shifting further inside of Rio's center, and she lets out her own defeated noise. 

"That clock isn't going very fast," Rio points, still leaning on Agatha's knees, "I'm not sure if you'll be able to hold back, my love." 

Agatha goes to her previous position, back to the couch, but her hat gets in the way. She huffs, grabbing the hat and fixing her hair by running her fingers through it, and fits it back on her head. Something to distract her for a moment, at least. 

Rio moves in little ways over the next actual ten minutes, but in game time only four. Agatha curses louder and louder for every ad that plays. 

"They really paid that much money for this?" 

Rio snorts in a laugh. "Sounds like you're struggling, I thought you said you loved the commercials?"

Agatha's palm strikes Rio's ass hard, holding it on the stinging flesh for a beat before she lifts it and admires the handprint left behind.

"You're going to regret it once that clock his zero." 

Rio gasps, keeping her hips still. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

The two-minute warning comes and goes. Agatha counts down the remaining seconds until they kneel it and the first half of the game finishes. The exact moment the whistle blows, Agatha wraps her arms around Rio's waist and stands. She keeps the toy deep until she lays Rio haphazardly on the carpeted floor by the couch. 

"You did it, baby." Rio chides, fingers grabbing at the carpet for the inevitable. "What's the score?" 

Agatha reaches forward, a hand to the back of Rio's as she pushes her into the floor and slams her hips into her. Rio chokes out a moan, teeth together as she breathes harshly. 

"Don't know," Agatha puffs, pummeling Rio with the toy, "Don't care.”

She keeps snapping her hips in and out, in and out, in and out until Rio manages to grip the hand in her hair. She tries to pry it out of her hair so she can sit back. Instead, Agatha twists her wrist, shedding Rio's hand, and instead grabbing her by the back of the neck. 

"You," she thrusts, holding herself as deep as she can for a moment before pulling out, "don't," and again, "get to-." 

Rio moans, jumbled words that tumble from her lips as Agatha wrecks her. Agatha growls, rumbling through her chest as she pauses her sentence and slips out of Rio's cunt. She kneels down close to Rio's soaked hole and spits onto her hole and shoves two fingers inside. 

"Wait," Rio stammers, struggling to lift up despite Agatha's hand at her neck. "Want your cock, wanna cum on it." 

Agatha keeps thrusting, fanning her fingers out as she buries them deep. 

"You don't get to set the rules," Agatha's voice is deep as she whispers down to Rio. "You couldn't wait until after the game, you had to be a fucking brat."

Rio nods, delusionally giddy despite her thoughts actively melting in real time. She tightens around Agatha's fingers, eyes rolling into her head as they close. Just as she's about to cum, Agatha draws her fingers out, and she clenches around nothing. Rio whines, needy and incoherent. 

"That's what happens," Agatha wipes the slick that pooled against her knuckles and coated her fingers off on the back of Rio's thighs, "When you try to fuck with me."

The halftime performance wraps up, loud explosions of fireworks as the crowd erupts in applause. Agatha sniffs, rubbing her nose with her thumb as she straightens her posture. She looks down at her joggers, soaked from Rio's arousal, and removes them. The sound of the waistband snapping against her hips has Rio mewling, distraught that Agatha was leaving her there. 

"Oh, my poor baby," Agatha drops back to her knees, hand cracking against Rio's ass once more. "All fucked out but never got to cum, huh? Game's about to start again, guess you'll have to think of something fast."

Rio presses her thighs together, hoping the friction would sate her, but she grumbles in frustration. Agatha watches her struggle, only lifting her eyes for a moment to see when the second half would start. 

"I'll be here," She tucks her fingers around her hip, pulling her back to the toy attached to her hips. "But you need to get to work if you want anything." 

She shifts back, knees burning from the carpet underneath her, and wiggles her hips until the tip of the toy lines with her cunt. She doesn't hold back, her gasp and groans too guttural and thick with desperation. 

"Come on, baby," Agatha doesn't help her, only keeping a hand on her hip to guide her back to her strap initially, "Fuck yourself on my cock."

Rio pants, eyes squinting as she focuses the best she can with such a fucked out brain. Her hips snap back, the wet slapping noise from taking the toy against Agatha's harness drowning out the television. 

Agatha has to swallow down her own noises as the green toy rapidly appears and disappears into Rio. She feels her own orgasm building, she tries to shift the harness so it doesn't press against her clit, to no avail. 

Rio's moans and motions grow shallow as she rushes to her pleasure. She whines, high in her throat and breathy. She mumbles a string of partially coherent "yes" and "uh-huh" with each cant of her hips into Agatha's. 

"Cum with me." 

Rio's body spasms, legs giving out as they shake while her orgasm takes root in her bones. Agatha falls forward, burying her cock into Rio as she thrusts frantically, on the precipice. 

Rio's mouth parts, face furrowed in a silent cry, while Agatha follows behind her. One final thrust has her cumming, fingers digging into Rio's hips with a bruising strength. 

They remain together, Rio splays out on the floor and Agatha on top of her with her face against her back. The TV drones on, various whistles being blown with cheering and booing.

Agatha finally picks her head up, blinking hard as she sees the game nearly over and the Eagles handedly winning. She holds herself up on her palms and eases the toy out of Rio, who quietly whines at the emptiness. 

She stands, shedding the harness, placing it on the coffee table next to the beer she's long since abandoned. Rio shifts, testing her limbs as she sits up. She laughs, throat dry.

"Congrats on winning, I think?" 

Agatha removes her hat, tossing it behind her on the couch as she helps Rio stand. She wraps her arms around her, breathing in the scent of their shared floral body soap and sweat. 

"I can't believe you distracted me," Agatha says, "You really won, didn't you?" 

Rio can only nod, flashing white teeth in victory, before her head drops to Agatha's shoulder. 

"Bed please?" 

Agatha pats her on the back, scratching her blunted nails against the fabric of her shirt. "Yeah, baby. Let's go to bed." 

"Go birds." 

She breathes a laugh. "Go birds.”

[f1samcro]

Stitches

“Jackson Teller. Stab wounds to upper left thigh and lower left abdomen,” the nurse says as she passes you the chart. 

Your eyes flick up to look at her, eyebrow arched, “As in, President of SAMCRO? Dr. Knowles’s ex? The friend I told last month that I didn’t want to see him in here again?”

She nods, watching as you open the chart and look through it. “One and the same.”

“I’ll go look at him. Stitches?”

“I would think so.”

You sigh and head towards the bed, staring down at the blonde man with a smug smirk on his face. “Do I wanna know how one of you has ended up in my E.R. once again, despite the fact I told you not to?”

Jax shakes his head, “Probably not.”

You hum, slipping the chart into its spot at the end of the bed and pulling gloves on. You sit on the wheely stool next to the bed and reach out to take off the impromptu dressing. It looks worse than it is, you put the dressing back over it and over to the thigh wound. “Well, it doesn’t look like it’s nicked any organs. Or caused permanent damage, apart from scarring. But I’ll get the nurse to book a CT scan just in case,” you slip the gloves off and stand up, “After that I’ll come and stitch you up, and you can go.”

He nods, “How long is that gonna take?”

“Couple hours depending on how busy the machine is.”

True to your word, Jax was ready to go just almost two hours later. “I want you back in two weeks so I can take your stitches out,” you say as you stand up.

“You got it, doc,” he salutes, standing up slowly, “But I’ll see you sooner. If not for one of the guys, the kids have check ups.”

“I’m well aware, Teller. Take care, I don’t want you in my E.R. again for a while.”

“Gettin’ sick of my face?”

You smile, signing something on the chart, “Who wouldn’t?”

“Ouch, doc. That hurt.”

“As much as that stab wound?”

He laughs softly, “Almost.”

“You are free to go,” you tuck the chart under your arm, “No strenuous activity-”

“No bike riding, no fights, I know,” he waves his hand dismissively.

“I mean it,” you say sharply, staring him down, “None of it.”

Jax salutes you as he walks towards Chibs, standing in the waiting room. The second the two are through the door, Tara is walking briskly towards you, “Why was Jax here?”

“Can’t tell you,” you say dryly, handing the chart back to the nurse, “Patient confidentiality and all.”

“He’s my husband,” her eyes narrow, hands in her pockets.

“Was. You two are divorced, Dr. Knowles. And even if you weren’t, he has to tell you. Not me,” the nurse smiles.

You turn and walk away, only for Tara to follow, “You like him.”

“Yes, Tara. That tends to happen in small towns. We were friends in school, have been since freshman year. Nothing more.”

“I’ll report you to the board.”

You spin, narrowing your eyes and tilting your head, “About me having a friendly relationship with Jax? One that we’ve had for 20 years? You slept with him whilst you were his son’s doctor. You formed a romantic relationship with a patient’s parent. The board will have much more to say about that. I’m only Abel and Thomas’s doctor until the new paed’s fellow gets here. Now, I’ve been here for twelve hours. I would like to clock out. Is that going to be an issue?”

“No. None at all.”

“Good.”

Well, work had been awkward. Tara was watching your every move, as she had done for the past month. You had even asked another doctor to handle removing Jax’s stitches so Tara didn’t try to start something. But, the new paediatrics fellow had arrived last week, and took over Abel and Thomas for the future. The past four weeks have been interesting. Tara’s friend, Margaret Murphy, from admin, had been on your tail for all of it. 

As you have done every single Sunday since freshman year, you sat at Gemma Teller’s dinner table, Jax across from you, Thomas and Abel on either side. Gemma put a plate of food in front of you, followed by a beer, “You look stressed, baby.”

You shrug, picking up the bottle and drinking. “Long week.”

Jax tilts his head, “Care to share?”

“Nope.”

Abel giggles, playing with your hair, while Thomas babbles, chubby hands smacking onto his high chair tray. Clay slumps back in his chair, scoffing, “Dunno why you’re a doctor. Too pretty to be this tired and stressed all the time.”

After almost 20 years of dealing with Clay’s greasy smile and comments that made your skin crawl, they still made your stomach churn. Jax turns to look at him, “Clay. Knock it off.”

You pick at your food, avoiding Gemma’s gaze, “I haven’t seen you this stressed out since your board exams, honey. What’s goin’ on?”

You look over at Gemma, her eyes set on you. She wasn’t gonna give up. So you sigh, put your fork down, and slump in your chair, “Tara’s threatenin’ to report me to the board. So Margaret’s breathing down my neck with everything I do. Simply because I wouldn’t tell her why Jax was in the E.R. the other day. She’s all upset about us bein’ friends. But we’ve been friends for longer than I’ve been a doctor, so the board won’t do anything.”

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?!”

Abel jumps at the sound of his father’s raised voice. Gemma shoot’s Jax a look before looking back at you, “The board can’t do nothing, baby.”

“I know that. But I’d like to go to work without having someone watching my every move just ‘cos I fucked off that pretentious bitch,” you rub Abel’s back gently, “Eat your dinner, Abel.”

Jax put his beer down aggressively, “I’ll talk to her.”

You narrow your eyes, “You most absolutely will not.”

Gemma raises her hand at Jax, causing him to go quiet, “You could always go to one of the higher ups and report a hostile work environment.”

Jax pipes up again, “If that doesn’t work, I’m talkin’, don’t care what you say.”

“Jack-”

“Don’t Jackson me,” he snaps, “If that doesn’t work, I’ll talk to Tara. That’s it. No arguin’ with me,” you glare, “And wipe that look of your face or I’m doin’ it for you.”

You go silent, looking back at your food, “You’re an asshole.”

“That’s been well established, darlin’.”

You clocked out Tuesday night, only to find Jackson Nathaniel Teller standing in the waiting room. “What do you want, Teller?”

“Margaret and Tara won’t be botherin’ you anymore,” he holds his hand out, “Ma want’s you at the clubhouse.”

“I just worked 12 hours, Jackson,” but you take it, eyes blinking blearily.

“You can nap in my old dorm, and I’ll take you home after.”

He tugs, sending someone a smirk as you follow. You look over, hearing someone huff, Tara. Margaret stand’s next to her, looking over at Jax with wide eyes. “What did you do?”

“Exactly what I said I would. Now let’s go.”

[rachhaven]

For poly!moonwater, the three of them all being in different houses and get their ties mixed up and that's how Sirius discovers their relationship?

here you go lovely- i wrote this in my lecture and during an endo flare so apologies if it doesn't make sense 😭

635 words- ish?

Last night had been- fun, to say the least. A game of exploding snap between the three of you leads to a cup of tea spilled on the wooden floor of your dorm, and then Regulus’ feeble attempts to clean it up lead to a bleach stain on Remus’ trousers, and the horrid smell left in the air, so to the Slytherin dorms it was, spiked hot chocolates in hand a good book to fall asleep reading together. It was nice, peaceful even, to sneak around and spend the evening together without fearing your and Regulus’ older brothers finding out. 

The brothers, the older brothers, James and Sirius are a package deal, so it only made sense that their little sister and little brother met and spend time together, and Remus just slotted in so perfectly and beautifully in the way that only he can, it just worked, but James and Sirius still don’t know. Well, until now. 

It was safe to say you were all running late when you woke up with only half an hour of breakfast left before lessons, so you were all in a hurry to get ready, chaste kisses and hugs goodbye as you all head to your separate tables, Hufflepuff for you, finding Hannah sat and waiting, Reg heading towards the Rosiers and Barty at slytherin, and remus towards the rest of the marauders on the gryffindoor table, happy as larry and finally ready to start the day. 

“moony?” Peters brow furrowed. “reg?” asked between laughs on Barty’s behalf. “Y/n?”, Hannah’s voice breaking you from plating your food. 

“Who’s tie are you wearing?”

Shit. 

You look down, a green and silver tie around your neck, your head spins to regulus, a red and gold tie around his neck, and finally Remus, adorned in a yellow and black tie. Shit. Shit. Shitty fuck. 

A squeal breaks through the air and it’s the only two you can imagine it would be, Sirius and James. Something about being ‘brothers in law’ and ‘family holidays’ and ‘shared bloodline’ and you’re all lost, you and reg excusing yourself to the Gryffindor table to sort this mess out. The tie you originally had on is in your hand, passing it to regulus as regulus passes his to Remus, you taking yours back at the same time. Cheeks burning red and embarrassed, but the feeling of safety you only get when you’re with your boys, Remus welcoming you to sit down with him, and sort this out, your forehead falling on Remus’ shoulder as regulus shoots daggers at his brother. 

“how long?” asks James, eyes curious and filled with such joy, speaking at the exact same time as Sirius, “how didn’t I know about this?”. Both questions are valid, James is nosey, always has been, but Sirius, he’s best friends with Remus, regulus is his little brother, and since moving in with the potters back in third year, he’s your older brother by proxy too, he means a lot to all of you. 

“six months”, you mumble, answering your brother, regulus answering his. “they were hesitant, didn’t want to upset you if anything went wrong” he explains, his head tilting towards you and Remus, Remus’ arm over your shoulder to try and ease the anxiety all the attention is giving you. Reg was loud and proud about his love, relieved to have finally found someone, two people, who he can actually open up to, who love him for him, but with your brothers antics and both yours and Remus’ hatred of being looked at by everyone else, it was nice to keep it quiet, like a sanctuary, but with how open and welcoming James and Sirius have been, maybe there wasn’t any need of fear. And just maybe, everything will be fine. 

[billionairebratenergy]

All Roads Lead to Her

Tony Stark x Reader

Summary: Tony Stark has never been the type to hold back, not in battle, not in business, and certainly not when it comes to you.

───────────────────────────────

“You know, Y/N thinks—”

Steve clenched his jaw. Sam groaned. Natasha actually dropped her head against the table in defeat.

“Tony,” Bruce sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose like this was giving him a headache. “For the love of science, please—just one conversation.”

“What?” Tony blinked, entirely unfazed as he leaned back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “I was just saying my girlfriend thinks that ranking pizza toppings is the greatest moral dilemma of our time, and frankly, I have to agree.”

Clint made a strangled noise. “Do you even hear yourself?”

“I hear that none of you are acknowledging that olives on pizza is a crime against humanity,” Tony shot back, crossing his arms. “So really, I should be the one disappointed in all of you.”

Steve sighed heavily, setting his fork down against his plate with a little too much force. “Tony, you mention her in every conversation. Every single one.”

Tony raised an unimpressed brow. “So?”

“So?” Sam echoed, exasperated. “Dude, we could be talking about alien invasions, and you’d still find a way to bring her up.”

“She’s very versatile.”

“Tony.”

He grinned, absolutely unrepentant. "What, you guys don’t talk about the love of your life at every opportunity? That’s rough. Couldn’t be me."

Steve muttered something under his breath about how his love of his life was frozen in ice for seventy years, and Tony chose to ignore it. Instead, he pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his camera roll.

“Okay, okay,” he said, tapping the screen. “But have I shown you this picture of her?”

Natasha groaned. “Oh my god.”

“This is my personal favorite,” Tony continued like he hadn’t just been issued a direct plea for mercy. “I caught her mid-sneeze, and she still somehow looks adorable. It’s unfair, really.”

Bruce took a long sip of his coffee. “You’re insufferable.”

Tony just grinned, spinning his chair away from them, fully content. If they thought he was bad now, they should see him when you were actually in the room.

You, of course, were completely oblivious to how much of Tony’s world you actually occupied.

When he came home that evening, you were curled up in one of his hoodies on the couch, scrolling through your phone. His breath caught, just for a second, because he was pretty sure there wasn’t a sight in the universe that could top this.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted, coming to lean over the back of the couch and press a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hey,” you hummed, tilting your head to look up at him. “How was the meeting?”

Tony made a face, moving to sit beside you, immediately tugging you into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual. Cap being self-righteous, Clint being useless, and everyone complaining about my apparent tendency to talk about you too much.”

You snorted. “Do you?”

“I don’t know,” Tony said airily, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. “I just think they should be thanking me for introducing a little romance into their dull, miserable lives.”

You rolled your eyes, but warmth spread through your chest all the same. You’d never met a man quite like Tony—someone so brilliant, so relentless, so undeniably himself. He was impossible not to love, even on the days when he tested your patience.

“Is it really that bad?” you teased, tilting your head back against the cushions.

Tony smirked. “You know, my girlfriend thinks–”

You flicked his chest. “Tony.”

He laughed, catching your hand in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll stop when it stops being true.”

“And when will that be?”

“Never,” he answered, utterly sure of it. “I love you, sweetheart. And I plan on reminding the world of it every single day.”

So maybe the team would suffer, and maybe Tony would keep testing their patience until they reached a breaking point—but you? You were his, and he was yours, and that was all that mattered.

Extended Fluff and Simping:

Tony didn’t just talk about you—he worshipped you.

You were his lock screen. His home screen. His desktop background.

FRIDAY had at least a dozen reminders set up that were all related to you. “Boss, you have a reminder to tell Y/N she’s the most stunning woman to ever walk the earth.”

“Right, right,” Tony nodded, glancing at his watch. “Tell her again in twenty minutes. Just in case.”

There were entire lab prototypes based on things you’d offhandedly mentioned. Once, you’d made a passing comment about how annoying it was when your coffee got cold too quickly. The next day, Tony presented you with a self-heating coffee cup that regulated temperature down to the exact degree.

Your favorite snacks were stocked in the kitchen at all times. Your favorite songs were queued in the car whenever he drove. He even had a backup of your favorite sweatshirt in case anything ever happened to it.

And when you slept, wrapped up in his sheets, tangled in his arms, he always looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

Like now.

Tony wasn’t even tired, not really, but he’d followed you to bed anyway, because the thought of being anywhere but next to you didn’t make sense. You were already asleep, curled into his chest, one hand resting over his heart.

For a man who had once thought love was nothing but a chemical reaction, Tony Stark had fallen, hard.

“You know,” he murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “I talk about you all the time, but I still don’t think I say it enough.”

Your breathing was soft and even, but he knew you could still hear him. You always did.

“I love you, Y/N.”

The smallest, sleepiest hum escaped your lips as you nestled even closer.

Tony smiled.

Yeah. The whole world could roll their eyes all they wanted. He didn’t care.

You were his world.

And he was never going to stop telling people about it.

[kinkyrhia]

The Facility (Day 1)

I wake up in a room. I don't remember what happened or how I got here. The last memory I have is sitting at the bar flirting with a man who had a peculiar accent that I couldn't place. Something about the low tone of his voice pulled me in, made it hard to think, and then everything went blank. Now I'm alone in a strange bed in a strange room with only a single light from the ceiling. There's nothing else in the room. There's just the bed and the door.

I go to get out of bed, and as the cool air hits my skin, I realize I am naked. I pull the blanket off the bed and wrap it around my body before checking the door. As I suspected, it was locked. No windows, no other exits, I'm trapped.

After a very brief investigation of the room that yields no new information, I sit back on the bed and try hard to remember what happened and how I got here. I don't know how much time passes... minutes... hours... before I hear a key on the door lock. A moment later two men and a woman come in. They say nothing to me as one of the men drags me off the bed and takes the blanket from me, leaving me naked on front of them. The second man and woman begin placing leather cuffs around my wrists, ankles, and thighs. They then strap me down face up in the bed. I scream and protest, but they don't care. One of the men seems to find my struggles particularly entertaining.

Once I am finally restrained, the woman places something on my head. It's a headset that covers my eyes and ears. A moment later a display lights up and a strange spiral starts to spin before my eyes. I hear moaning and whispers and a soft feminine voice starts speaking... Obedience is pleasure... Pleasure is obedience... Obedience is pleasure... Pleasure is Obedience... over and over again. I feel something pressed between my legs and a low vibration begins to stimulate my clit. I feel my body becoming aroused and I have no ability to stop it. I am left there for hours... the moaning, the chanting, and the pleasure drowning out any other sounds or sensations.

Where am I?

[urlovebot]

c/w: perv!hoon as always, exhibitionist sungoon, poor man gets caught in the act, degradation, sub!hoon kinda, mentions of voyuerism, chile sunghoon whips it out for reader.

a/n: i wish he would whip it out for me man all i need is 5 minutes and a hair tie

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

“sunghoon!”

sunghoons heart drops. why do you sound so angry? who could’ve possibly upset his pretty princess so badly?

he stomps down the stairs at arms, ready to defend your honor until he sees you holding the laundry basket and in your hand the- oh no-

“what the fuck is this? did you- did you cum on my underwear?”

sunghoon pales as he looks at the flimsy white cloth in your hand that is, admittedly, soaked with his spunk. he’d just done it about half an hour ago. he was gathering the laundry as he usually does, stole a pair of your panties, and jerked his cock using the soft fabric. its routine. he’s been doing it for months now, what had you done different to find out?

“i- no. thats definitely-”

your eyes narrow,

“sit down.”

sunghoon quickly takes a seat at your dining room table.

“y’know sunghoon,” you pace the kitchen, “i thought something about you was weird.”

sunghoon winces. the word hurts… but as you pace your tits are bouncing up and down and about to spill over your top and-

“are you serious right now? i’m literally sitting here confronting you about getting off using my underwear and you can’t be bothered to look me in my eyes?” you scoff and drop the soiled fabric on the table.

sunghoons blushing from his cheeks down to the base of his neck and he swallows thickly as he tries to will his mind away from your tits but then he just thinks about your words and he feels his cock swell and his balls jump. you called him weird. you’re sitting here berating him for-

“are you a pervert sunghoon? i thought i saw you looking through my door when i was changing but i convinced myself it couldnt have been. god thats so fucking pathetic.”

fuckfuckfuck this is exactly what he needed. just a little more- god he’s almost humping the chair at this point- a little more, he begs. he pleads with the universe that you stay oblivious to the way he’s grinding his cock onto the wooden seat of the chair.

“i’m sorry y/n.”

it comes out breathier, more desperate than he intended and he’s lying through his fucking teeth.

“you’re sorry? that’s it? no, sunghoon. you’re gross. god what else have you done?”

gross. you called him gross-

“ahh-”

your pacing stops immediately as you turn around. you face a flushed, panting, sweating mess of a roommate. his eyes are fluttered shut and his mouth is resting open and you spot movement under the table.

listen. you’re a simple woman. sunghoon is extremely attractive. tall, broad, strong, brooding. so you yourself can’t help but get a little wet at the sight of him fucking his cock onto the chair.

“sunghoon.”

he peels his hooded eyes open but doesnt stop humping the chair. he knows you’re turned on. he’s seen this look multiple times. it spurs him on further, another breathy moan leaving his mouth.

“y/n.”

his voice is husky and now you’re certain you’re dripping onto your underwear.

“pull it out.”

sunghoons actions actually do halt this time. what?

“wh- what do you mean? why?”

“you’re clearly getting off to me watching you. give me a show hoonie. let me see if your cock matches your pathetic self.”

sunghoon scoots the chair out, spreads his legs, and pulls his cock out from beneath his sweats.

your breath hitches. his cock was fucking huge. and thick.

“do you think it’s pathetic as i am now?”

sunghoon sports a small smirk on his face and pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he leisurely strokes his cock.

your head spins, “i- well. well actually-”

sunghoon lets go of his cock and stuffs it back into his sweats. he stands,

“you know, i’ve had a lot of patience with you. teasing me by dressing like a whore, short shorts and,” he stalks up to you and plays with the hem of your tanktop, “flimsy excuses for a top.”

his hand moves to cup your jaw,

“you know i watch you. probably gets you off since you put on a show for me each time. your breathing picks up as you realize im fucking against the door when you shower, re-adjust myself when you walk in the room, moan your name out when im making myself cum,”

his hand slides down to your throat,

“i’ve heard you listen to the ‘accidental’ voicemails i’ve left you where im fucking my hand so loud you can hear it.”

sunghoon bends down to reach your face, so close that his lips touch yours as he talks.

“you’re just as disgusting as i am.”

you cant move, both turned on and a little scared, but sunghoon knows this. knows you. he’s studied you for so long he knew exactly how you’d react.

“now lets go back to the little game of cat and mouse we have going. you can still be my pretty, innocent, little princess and i can go back to being your unassuming roommate.”

and with that, he stalks off back to his room.

[hughesmuse86]

+18 -> smut | Jack finds your Tumblr account (… and you’re reading stories about him 👀🤭)

𝓙𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓗𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓼 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

c/w: pet names, swearing, new relationship, kissing, they have not had sex yet, brief unprotected p in v, fingering, spanking, oral (female receiving), oral (brief; male receiving), praise, teasing, handjob, finger sucking, cum tasting, ownership kink, sex toys, brief rough sex, Jack goes through the reader’s things, thigh-slapping, the reader says she wants to have sex and they agree for round 2 he surprises her by switching the toy with himself

*the red indented text is the Tumblr story*

2.8k

Jack lay sprawled on your bed, his legs were draped off the edge, lazily tossing a practice ball into the air as he waited for you to get out of the shower. The faint hiss of water running in the bathroom had an oddly calming effect, but it did little to take his attention from the nagging temptation right beside him… your phone.

He wasn't the snooping type—or so he’d like to think. You were sweet and trusting, and your relationship was so new. The last thing he wanted was to screw it up by overstepping. But the phone vibrated again, its screen lighting up, and curiosity got the better of him.

"This is fucked," he mutters to himself, glancing toward the bathroom door to make sure you wouldn't catch him nonetheless.

He froze as he unlocked the screen, his jaw falling slack with shock. It wasn’t TikTok or Instagram… It wasn't Pinterest or anything he had seen before. This was something entirely different. “Shit,” he whispers, running his hand over his smirk as he continues to read the porn on the page before him.

Mhmm… Yeah. Sure. Is that why you're wearin’ that set I bought you, pretty? Just wanted to sit around? It’s almost like you wanted this to happen,” he mumbles, calling you out completely as he kicks his bedroom door shut, slamming the lock with a smirk before flicking his backward cap to the side.

"Maybe," you whisper, fighting back a smile as Jack lies on the floor.

His palm slams over his lips as he gasps and chuckles— eyes widening on the page as he reads his name. What the fuck is this? Is this a romance novel? I mean—I guess… He thinks to himself. Not just romantic in the generic sense, but detailed, explicit, and absolutely nothing like what he was expecting his sweet, innocent girlfriend to read.

Jack palms at his cock, already pushing against his pants. Finding him not getting off on the words he was consuming but the woman consuming them. His mind spins with the thought of you reading this with one hand on your phone and the other in your panties, playing with yourself as you read each filthy word about how your boyfriend fucks.

Jack's lips twitch into a grin as he scrolls down a few lines. “No way…” He shakes his head in disbelief, reading a little more.

Goddamn, you're lucky my brother’s not home… Hate for him to hear what a slut you are for me.” He quickly rolls you to your back, your hands still firmly wrapped. The veins in his neck protruded, that same smile still slicked on his lips. He grabs your wrists, pinning them against the carpet with a bruising grip.

The contrast between the innocent image he had of you and the vivid story on your screen sent a rush of warmth through him, his body tingling, heart pumping fast. He even found himself getting a little bashful at the thought of it, turning slightly only to see his blushed cheeks in the reflection of your floor-length mirror.

"Wow," he whispers.

Unable to help himself now, Jack's curiosity grows. He returns the phone to the bed and lets his eyes wander around your room. It’s cozy, filled with little personal touches—string lights, a collection of books, the aroma of your vanilla candle wafting in the air. His eyes fall onto your nightstand, and for just a second, he does hesitate. But he wants to know more.

"C’mon, man. Don't do it," he whispers, scolding himself, already reaching for the handle.

The drawer opens, nothing out of the ordinary: the chapstick he loves, an extra phone charger, a few books.

“Damn…” He freezes again. A pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs from your Halloween costume were tucked to the side, half-hidden by a scarf. He grabs the scarf, pulling it out nice and slow, finding a black satin bag below it.

Jack’s heart races, a mix of surprise and exhilaration coursing through his veins. “Holy shit, princess. What do we have here, huh?” He whispers, grinning like he had just found hidden treasure. He can only imagine what’s inside; he had a couple of ideas based on the silhouettes alone. He never imagined you’d have something like this. Not you, the girl who blushed when he kissed your forehead in public.

“Damnit.” He slams the drawer shut as he hears something, making the contents rattle. He lifts his fingers and runs them through his hair. His heart pounding in his head softens, letting him hear a new sound.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. He looks down at your phone, but the screen is black— no call or alarm coming in. His eyes double as he looks down in the other direction, getting closer to the source. He grabs the handle, pulls the drawer open, and sees the contents inside shifted from how hard he shut it.

He pulls back the scarf, watching the satin bag vibrate and turn slowly. Jack snatches the bag and peers inside, gasping again as he sees your toys. He didn’t recognize two—more familiar with the third. He pulls the rabbit vibrator out of the bag, watching in awe and lust as it swirls and shakes. He snaps himself out of his daze enough to shut it off.

Jack looks down at his body and then toward the door, curiosity getting the better of him. He tosses the bag to the bed and loops his fingers around his grey sweats, tugging them down enough to release his aching cock. His length slaps against his shirt, standing straight with a slight curve.

He lifts the vibrator in one hand, hissing at the contact when he wraps his fist around the other. Jack holds them up next to each other, smiling smugly as he catches all the differences playing in his favor. He could see all the veins and ridges of his cock where the toy was smooth, the girth of his dick wider than the silicone shaft. Jack pumps his dick a few times, feeling the blood pump through it.

He tosses his head back as he drags his hand up a little more, lowering his eyes again to watch the bead of precum that was gathered at his swollen tip roll slowly down the side. Jack looks back at the toy one last time, thinking about your warm, wet cunt swallowing up the smaller silicon tip— your glossy hole fluttering as the shaft vibrated with you.

He rolls out his neck, feeling himself embarrassingly close to cumming at his thoughts alone. Jack puts the toy back in the satin bag carefully, setting it down in its place softly, shutting the drawer slowly, attempting to compose himself as the bathroom door opens.

You step into the room, wrapped in a towel, your wet hair cascading over your shoulders. Jack struggles to sit up, his big body floundering slightly as he attempts to look casual—his usual swagger long gone. His cheeks flush even more; lip, bitten between his teeth to hold back his nervous chuckle, which quickly breaks loose.

"What's so funny?" You ask, cocking an eyebrow as you walk over to your dress, grabbing your lotion from the top.

Jack’s pretty eyes draw to your hands as you spread the creamy white between them, swirling it over your soft skin as a smug smile plays on his perfect lips.

Jack stands up, crossing the room in a couple of strides before wrapping his strong arms around your waist. He tilts down, kissing your forehead, then your nose, lingering on your pillowy lips before tucking himself in your neck, lips dusting your ear. "I found your shit, princess,” he rasps, his voice deep and teasing.

You freeze for a second, your mind racing. "My shit? Wh-What do you mean?”

"The handcuffs, your stories, the—" he pauses, his smile spreading along your warm, dewy skin, "…the toys. And I thought you were a good girl." He pulls away, expecting to see your flustered face, surprised when he catches the twinkle in your eye. Your head tilts slightly, eyes falling into a lusty haze.

"I never said I was."

Jack blinks, caught off guard by your confidence. He lets out a laugh, pulling you in tighter against him. "Goddamn, baby," he teases, his voice warm and hungry.

You set your hands on his chest as you look up at him. "Is that a problem?"

Jack's eyes darken slightly, his laughter softening as he leans in for a kiss. "It’s fuckin’ perfect," he mumbles against your lips, his excitement and affection for you only growing. "You keep surprising me, pretty."

"Could say the same," you counter with a smirk, tugging him in by his shirt. “Lookin’ through my shit like I have something to hide.”

"That’s true," he says, smiling into your kiss, eager to see what other surprises you had in store or what those two other toys were that he’d never seen before. “Let me apologize to you. Hmm?” He asks as his eyes fall to your towel, looking back up at you quickly. You give him a little nod, and he tugs at it fast, watching the fuzzy white material fall around your feet.

His eyes work up your body slowly, hands holding and kneading the fullness of your hips. Jack’s big hands trace your soft skin before cupping your breasts, squeezing, and watching the way your body reacts to his touch.

Grabbing for his white t-shirt, you pull it over his head. Your lips claim his as your fingers dance over the deep indentations of his abs, his cut v-lines disappearing below the band of his sweats. You curl your fingers under the elastic as your tongue slips in his mouth, swirling with his as you tug his pants off.

Jack lifts you off your feet into his arms as your tongues tangle together, your body rolling into his with the cadence of your kiss, the wetness of your soaked pussy transferring to his hot skin.

He lays you down on the bed and crawls on with you— the mischievous grin on his face spreading wider. “Grab your phone,” he hums against your lips. “Open it, princess. Think you have a story you need to finish. Yeah?” he says, stretching his big arms around the back of his head as he relaxes into your pillows. “Were you reading about me?” He asks, trying to hold back his smirk.

“Yeah,” you answer bashfully as he leans in a little closer.

“You obsessed with me, or what?” He teases.

“Is that not obvious–”

“Good,” he mumbles against your lips before kissing you gently. “‘Cause I’m obsessed with you too, pretty.”

Your eyes fall down his perfect body, Jack’s stiff cock trapped between the band of his White Calvin’s and his warm skin, the man incredibly hard. His tip’s messy with precum, pooled on his tip, making you lick your lips. You reach out your finger, pressing it against his swollen head, swirling it slowly, tracing his slit as his mouth falls open. Lifting your finger, you bring it to your lips, sucking down as he watches you close.

"You want me to read it out loud?"

Jack shrugs as he tucks himself into you, kissing along the column of your neck. "Why not? I'm curious,” he hums before sucking down on your sweet spot.

Your heart starts to race a little faster, pussy throbbing as Jack’s large hand traces up your body, squeezing your upper thigh. With a deep breath, you pull up the story again, sliding your finger to the part where you left off.

Jack adjusts his position, turning into you, his head resting on a shared pillow. "C’mon baby, let me have it,” he mumbles as his rough fingers draw along your soft skin.

Your voice comes out steady at first, reading a few lines, though. Looking at the next couple of words, you feel your cheeks warm up, skipping a few, but he stops you with a slap to your inner thigh, making you whimper with pleasure. Jack chuckles lustfully at the sound that pours from your lips, turning slightly to get a better look at your pretty face.

“M’gonna let that slide ‘cause you're so fuckin’ sexy,” he mutters drunkenly, his little punishment doing nothing but revving him up more. “You skipped somethin’, sweetheart. Don't cheat me out of the good parts."

"Okay, baby…” You smile.

He chuckles dizzily and leans in closer. "C'mon, keep going. I like hearing you read,” he praises as his fingers cup your pussy, pushing against your sex, making your head fall back. “Keep readin’,” he hums against your ear.

What?" He snickers. "Think I won. Just claiming my prize." He groans as he clutches his hard cock in his fist, running the tip through your soaked folds–

You try your best to focus, your voice trembling slightly as the story's tension heats up. Jack pushes two long fingers inside you, resting his thumb on your clit. "Don’t stop now… I think I’m gonna fuck you, baby. Shit’s gettin’ really, really good," he murmurs, his voice low and raspy.

You clear your throat, trying to disregard him, but he moves between his thighs, lips landing on your shoulder, soft and warm, tracing upwards.

You scream as he slams his long, thick dick deep. “Fuck!” You wail, mouth hanging open as he circles his hips nice and slow–

Your words stumble, fumbling over the last sentence as he loops his massive arms around your thighs, tugging you to your back.

"Jack…" you say, barely louder than a whisper, the phone trembling in your hands as his warm breath fans over your pussy.

"Mhmm," he replies, definitely enjoying your distraction.

–forcing himself as deep as possible, making you exhale a deep breath.

You manage to get a few more words out, shaky and rushed, as Jack flattens his tongue, licking a line up your slick folds. He chuckles against your skin, his breath hot as he presses a kiss against your clit.

"You're terrible at this, pretty," he teases, his grin infuriatingly smug and devastatingly handsome.

"That's because you're distracting me!" You whimper, tossing your phone down in defeat.

Jack laughs as he crawls towards your lips, kissing you tenderly, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. "I was only tryin’ to help, baby," he whispers innocently before biting and tugging on your bottom lip as he traces up your thigh.

You huff at him playfully, any resolve that may have remained melting as he holds your cheeks in a single hand, puckering your lip. "You're cute when you're flustered," he whispers, kissing your lips.

You gasp as you feel Jack run the tip of something familiar through your glossy folds—too cold to be him, too wide to be his fingers.

“You gonna let me play with you, princess?” Jack asks, letting your cheeks go. You look between your thighs and see your vibrator in his fist, the pink tip glistening with your essence.

You slip your hands down his muscular body as warmth builds in your stomach, rocking your hips as Jack teases you. Wrapping your fingers around Jack’s thick dick, you hear a buzz, feeling the toy tremble, making you squeeze Jack’s cock a little tighter. He moans against your lips, turning it up to the highest setting.

“You can do whatever you want to me, baby,” you pant as he switches his hold, letting the little rabbit's ears flick against your aching pearl.

“Anything?”

“Shit,” you mewl as he drops down to your drooling hole again, letting the swirling head circle your entrance, Jack teasing you with just the tip. “Anything.” Your hips buck up slightly, and Jack pins you down by the hip, holding you in place.

“Mmm... Where are you going, princess?” He asks as your chest rises rapidly, breathing quicker than you were before.

“Fuck, Jack,” you gasp and moan as he stuffs it inside, the toy gliding effortlessly through your wetness. Jack holds it in place, making you squirm and move some more.

“This is just round one…” He whispers against your trembling lips. “You gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy for round two?”

“Yes… Yes, shit. Please fuck me.”

Jack kisses you deeply as he pushes it in and out, making you cry out against his lips, arms drifting around the back of his neck, holding on tight.

"I… Fuck, Jack. I'm gonna cum."

"Tell me when, baby," he breathes through a smile.

"Fuck... Ugh. I'm-" He draws out quickly, plunging his cock inside, robbing you of your breath.

Jack’s big hands grab your hips with a bruising grip as he fucks into you fast and hard, making you see stars. “Jack, Sh-Shit,” you whimper as you cum around his cock, muscles spasming again and again. Jack’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he gives you a few more punishing thrusts, making your breasts bounce as his toned hips smack against you.

You pull him to your lips, kissing him deeply, pushing him to roll yourself on top; his long, thick cock sheathed deep in your cunt still. You whimper at his size, feeling the delicious stretch between your thighs, nails running down his chest as you smile.

“How was that, princess?” He smiles, watching the way your legs tremble, the man gripping your thighs tightly before reaching around, spanking your ass, making your pussy tighten around him.

“So fucking good,” you smile as you throw your head back, rocking your hips, listening to the sounds of your soaked warmth and his deep moans.

Grabbing your phone, you hand it to him with a smile, lifting off his throbbing cock, seeing it sheened with your climax. “We’re not done with the story,” you whisper as you draw backward, slotting yourself between his thighs before running your tongue up his pulsing dick as he looks down at you, half-lidded and desperate.

“You want me to read this while you do that?” He asks dreamily, huffing out a deep, jagged breath as you spit on his tip.

“… C’mon baby, let me have it.”

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

[sturn777]

readers reaction to rapper!chris new song "now we're strangers" (central cee) about them and their messy break up :(

NOW WE'RE STRANGERS

you don’t even have to press play. you already know.

but you do anyway.

the beat rolls in smooth, heavy, the kind that creeps under your skin and settles deep in your bones. his voice follows a second later, familiar in a way that makes your stomach twist.

"i can still recite your number off by heart..."

your breath catches.

you hate how true it is.

he could dial your number in his sleep, same way you could recognize his voice in a crowded room, even now. but what does that matter when he never calls anymore?

"you can leave, but we can't erase the memories..."

like hell you can.

they stick, no matter how hard you scrub them away. the late night drives, the stolen kisses between studio sessions, the way his hoodie still sits at the bottom of your closet because you can’t bring yourself to throw it out.

your grip on your phone tightens as the verse continues.

"broke my baby's heart, and now she partyin' and hoein'..."

your eyes narrow. hoe? is that what he thinks?

as if you weren’t just trying to forget. trying to stitch yourself back together.

your lips curl in irritation. typical. he messes up, and suddenly you're the villain for moving on. you knew he’d find a way to spin the story, lace his guilt into a beat and let the world sympathize with him.

but it still doesn’t stop the way your heart clenches when he says,

"say your skin's breakin' out because i cause you stress

then you left, you're lookin' sexier than ever and you're glowin’..."

you swallow hard.

so he noticed.

he always noticed.

but it doesn’t change anything, does it?

your phone buzzes in your lap.

you blink, staring at the screen.

he’s waiting. waiting for you to react, to call, to tell him he’s wrong—or worse, to tell him he’s right.

your fingers hover over the keyboard. type. delete. type again.

what do you even say?

that the song made your chest ache? that hearing his voice still does something to you, even when you wish it wouldn’t? that you still think about him when you're alone at night, even though you’d rather die than admit it?

your hands shake, frustration bubbling up.

he doesn’t deserve a response.

not this time.

he’ll have to sit with this one.

you don’t even check the messages ; just see his name light up your phone, over and over again, until it’s nothing but an annoying reminder that he still gets to you.

that one makes you pause. bet? bet what?

but you don’t have to wonder long.

a sharp knock at your door sends a jolt through your chest.

you already know who it is.

you make him knock again before you finally push yourself off the couch, fingers curling around the doorknob. you take a deep breath, school your face into something indifferent, and pull it open.

there he is.

same chain. same low eyes, scanning your face like he’s tryna figure out just how mad you are. he’s got a bouquet in one hand, white roses, your favorite, like he ain’t just rapped about breaking your heart in front of millions of people.

“hey, baby.” his voice is smooth, almost lazy, but you know him too well. his jaw flexes like he’s holding back something, like he doesn’t really wanna be here, but has to be.

you cross your arms, unimpressed. “what do you want?”

he huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head. “knew you’d be on some shit.” he pushes the flowers toward you, tilting his head. “take ‘em.”

you hesitate, eyeing him for a second before snatching them from his hand. they smell good. annoyingly good.

“so what? you think you can just pull up with flowers and i’ll forget you dropped a whole song about me?”

he exhales through his nose, shoving his hands in his pockets. “never said that.”

“but you're here.”

he tilts his head, watching you, and you hate how easy it is to fall back into this. the quiet stares, the unspoken shit that lingers between you both.

you shift your weight, glancing down at the flowers. “why’d you really come, chris?”

he steps forward. “wanted to see you.”

your breath catches.

his fingers brush against your arm, slow, deliberate, like he’s testing the waters.

“wanted to see if you was really done with me,” he mutters, voice lower now. “or if you just tryna act like it.”

your throat tightens. “i am.”

his lips twitch. “yeah?”

you don’t say anything. you don’t pull away when he reaches up, thumb brushing against your jaw.

his eyes flick to your lips. “you still mad at me?”

you should be. you were.

but he leans in, and you don’t move.

he smirks, just a little, before pressing his lips to yours.

and just like that, you lose.

──────────────────────────────

© STURN777

[lotties-ashwagandha]

LET IT BLEED AWAY BETWEEN US

(adult) lottie matthews x fem!reader.

she shows up at your door… (inspired by season three episode 2 babyyyyyy I wrote this at 4 fucking in the morning earlier bc I couldn’t sleep enjoy please read to compensate my suffering)

“So,” you start, unsure of how to begin. “How was it?”

Lottie blinks. “The mental institution?”

You were better off not asking.

“It was fine,” she answers in a dull tone. She sits across from where you stand as she occupies your armchair — in your living room, which she has infiltrated and made herself at home in. “It’s been worse.”

She’s told you before, stories of all she has endured. You sit very straight, unsure exactly of how to proceed — it hasn’t been long since you last saw her, but there is a gap between the two of you already, and even in such a short amount of time the two of you have changed. She no longer has her wellness center to lead, you no longer follow her in it. You have been thrusted back into the real world — real dangers accompany it.

“You have a nice place here,” Lottie gestures around your living room. “I’m surprised you could get a hold of it so quickly.”

Your old house you had lived in before moving into the wellness center. You’ve had it on the market for a while, but no one has put in an offer. You don’t tell her that, though — part of you wants her to bear the guilt, think you found some new place in a pinch.

“I had to find somewhere to go,” you say defensively. “While you were detained.”

Her expression sours, she doesn’t like your wording. Neither do you. You don’t enjoy being angry with her, especially after being apart. All you want to do is rush to her, pull her into your arms and let it all bleed away between you, but it was Lottie herself who always showed those who followed her to feel their anger.

Lottie sinks further into her seat, sensing your discontent, crosses one leg over the other and pretends she’s blind to the world. “I missed you.”

You hum in response. Silence lies heavily between you.

“Are you upset with me?”

You don’t respond.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No.”

She sighs. “Then what?”

“You hunted Shauna through the woods. You got shot.”

Lottie stands and makes her way to you. She looks tired above all, but you can’t help but notice a fidgety manner about her — dark eyes always flitting to avert your gaze, hands spinning her rings around and around her fingers. There is a general restlessness to her that you aren’t used to — it’s worrying.

“I understand that you’re frustrated—”

“What if it had been me?” You cross your arms. “Would you have hunted me?”

Lottie scoffs.

“Answer me. Would you have?”

She hesitates. She waits a beat too long before answering. You see the same flightiness. “No.”

You let it drop for now. You don’t want to press her and end up with a different answer. “Did it hurt?”

She’s becoming quite done with this. Her tone is laced with sarcasm, sharp with it. “When I fell from heaven?”

“When you got shot.”

“Yes, it fucking hurt.”

“I want to see.”

Again she sighs, more dramatically this time — but after a moment’s hesitation Lottie pulls off her black jacket. Your eyes find it immediately, though the wound is tiny. It’s already beginning to scar: the small mark of the bullet you remember all too clearly embedded in her skin.

“Are you okay?” Lottie asks.

“Are you?”

She offers you a soft smile — it’s not really an answer, more mournful than anything, but momentarily you have been persuaded to put your anger aside when her hands take yours and again you are home.

“If you ever get shot again, I’m leaving you,” you threaten. It sounded much less surreal to say in your head.

“I don’t plan on it,” Lottie assures you. “Though I didn’t plan on getting shot the first time.”

You beg to differ. It doesn’t matter in any case, what’s done is done. Now you need her in your arms, anger and all, and she needs it too — gently, almost so as not to scare you away into a fit of rage, she kisses you.

You had been silent when she’d told you she missed you, but you had missed her just as desperately. You missed the warmth and security of her beside you as you laid in an empty bed, you missed the novelty of being able to pull her into your arms whenever you wanted and decide it’s where you both would stay for a while. You missed her, in every way, and you were still pissed at her for all she had done to lose you.

Lottie glances around the house when you pull back, trying to determine in her surroundings where the bedroom is. You can see the disapproval etched into her features — this is not her home, this is not the life you have built together.

You can’t, not yet. Too mournful still.

When you pull her back over to the couch, it is a domestic gesture. When you lean against her so that you’re nearly on top of her and gently run a hand through her hair. When her arms wrap around you and you find your gaze trained on the bullet wound and you can’t help but reach out to trace it and know that someday, when the world is less dark and mournful and all of your wounds have scarred, you will kiss it clean of the past.

sexy sexy taglist: @webism @chaithetics @ahauandthesun

reblogs/comments always appreciated! :)

[delulu-is-da-solulu]

𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓽.:｡+•

⌦ .｡.:*♡Valentine's Day special˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

(tmnt fanfic spin-off fic)

2k12! Donnie x reader

Hurt/fluff

A/N: Before I start this I wanna explain what this fic is. I'm really excited for Valentine's Day, it's my favorite holiday, so I wanted to post a fic in the context of my actual series that doesn't actually follow the story. so if you're okay with that, then let's start. <3

word count- 1600

While in your room scrolling through Tumblr and listening to music, you hear a tap on your window. Scince theres only four people you know that enter homes vian window, you get up to open it. “Hey Don. what are you doing her-” When you looked up from your phone you saw Doonies face, puffy, with strained red eyes.

He comes in, and instantly tumbles onto your bed. You don't need him to tell you what happened, today is Valentine's Day, Donnie has been working on something for weeks, and well… he’s Donnie. “D- did she not like it?”

“No, she did like it. She just didn't like me,” he curls up in a ball, and ruins your freshly made bed. “I- I don't know what I did wrong?”

“Donnie, you didn't do anything wrong she just didn’t like you.” You lay down on your bed next to him, while patting his shell in an attempt to comfort him. 

“Well, why not!” He jerks up, you jump back startled. Donnie’s never been aggressive towards you, he looks more mad than he does sad, and that bothers you beyond extent.

“Hey don't scream at me 'cause you got rejected! She doesn’t like you, get over it!” you push him off your bed, and look down at him irritated. “Donnie, I understand you liked April, but she’s like the only girl you know! your ‘feelings’ for her are just the way you react to seeing a woman.”

“Then what are you, a hermaphrodite?”

You burst out in laughter, “What!?”

“You heard me! If I’m attracted to every woman I see you mustn’t be one, cuz I’m not drooling over you!” He pokes your shoulders over and over again, till you're stating his hands away like flies.

“Well, screw you asshole!” the two of you started laughing together, “w- well my dicks probably way bigger than yours!”

“Wow, you've only been a man for a couple of seconds and you’re already trying to start a dick-measuring contest. I can feel the testosterone radiating off you.”

“Yup!”

 Donnie looks up at you with a somewhat remorseful face. “Hey, uhh… (Y/N), I’m sorry about lashing out at you. I don’t know why I did that.” he lifts himself off the floor of your room and rolls onto your bed. He rests his head down on your lap and cuddles up to your thighs. “Will I ever find love?”

You let out a light chuckle, “Oh woe is you. Donnie, it feels like people get mutated every day, one day someone might get mutanted and you might like them. And the Krang even being a thing proves that aliens exist! Who says you can't get an extraterrestrial baddie?”

“You flatter me, (y/n) if I can’t get a girl as beautiful, smart, and caring as April, what makes you think any other girl will want me?”

“Looking at how pathetic you are now, I have absolutely noooo clue. But you’ll make it work, you always make it work.” you pat the back of his head, much to Donnie's irritation.

“You know how much I hate that.” he pinches you.

“And you know how much I hate you.” you slap the back of his neck, and he jerks back holding neck as it stings, while you chuckle to yourself.

An hour or two later of just rotting in your bed, Donnie perks up with his "I’ve got an idea!" eyes. “Is your mom home, or siblings!?”

“No. why do you ask?" All of a sudden he picks you up by your thighs and he starts to go downstairs with your legs flailing. “Donnie what are you doing, put me down?”

you scream before you’re thrown on the couch, with Donnie sitting next to you. You were gasping for air, “D- dude, what’s your… FUCKING… PROBLEM!?”

“It’s Valentine's Day,” he said as if he didn’t just forcibly remove you from your warm comfortable bed.

“So?” you throw a pillow at him, which he catches before it can touch his face.

“What else do two single, hopeless romantics, do on Valentine's Day when neither of them have a valentine?” 

“Cry?”

“Already did that.”

“Watch romance movies?”

“Bingo,” he says with a cheeky smile, "so I’m thinking, of Mamamia, Enchanted, or my personal favorite. BEAUTY AND THE BEAST!”

“Every time we watch a movie together, you say Beauty and the Beast.” you chuckle, while his once confident and excited face becomes slightly embarrassed. “What about the princess bride? Ooh, or Labyrinth!”

“You always say Labyrinth! It doesn’t matter how many times you watch it, you won't become Sarah, and get to dance with David Bowie, in an all-white puffy ball gown.”

“Damn, you can’t just let a girl dream?”

“You crushed mine of rewatching Beauty and the Beast for the 85th time, so NO.”

It took about ten minutes for you and Donnie to both decide on a movie, but when you did the two of you were so into it.

“Anastasia.” you sigh, with a hint of whimsy in your voice.

“It never misses,” Donnie took another chocolate out of the box. “I thought you didn’t have a valentine, who got you these chocolates?”

“My dad.” you open the second box, “These ones are way better, I always open the shitty ones first.”

“These chocolates aren’t shitty, I really like them. And that's really nice of your dad to try and make you feel special.” Donnie's smile is truly adorable, even when it’s so obviously forced it can't help but make you grin. I guess people are referring to Don when they say, "a smile is contagious."

“Yeah, his are good, but I like the ones I bought better.”

He looks at you confused, “You bought yourself chocolates? If I knew you wanted some I would’ve gotten it for you. Now I feel bad.”

“No, I got them for someone else. But I decided it’d be best to not give it to them.”

“Wha- why not!?” The look of shock on his face is enough to make you choke on your drink. As you start coughing Donnie starts patting your back, trying to help.

“Hee- ha, hee- ha” As you were wheezing, you glanced back at Donnie and his face was even worse. If you had your phone you’d take a picture and meme it. “Donnie stop!”

“Stop what!?”

“You’re face! It’s killing me please…” After a couple of minutes, you managed to regain yourself. “Okay, okay I'm good now.” you look back at Donnie and he’s just waiting.

“You’re done?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me why a pretty girl, decided to get a guy chocolates on Valentine's Day, and just thinks to herself 'he wouldn’t like me.' and gives up!”

“Donnie-”

“I’m a mutated turtle and I gave it a shot! Did it land? No. it didn’t even hit the target. But I tried! What kind of psycho wouldn’t like you? You’re great to talk to, you're so talented, you’re pretty, you're fun, and it’s impossible not to like you!”

“He already likes a girl. The two of us are friends and he likes a girl that isn’t me. And he’s been obsessed with her for a while, I would have given him the chocolates but- then it would’ve made things weird.”

Donnie was confused and angry, at this mystery guy he’s never met, and now he feels bad for ranting about something he didn’t know shit about. “I- I didn’t mean.” he felt bad for what he said… at least you think he felt bad, you had no clue why he suddenly had a poker face on.

“Donnie, Donnie?” you wave your hand over his face before he looks back at you.

“Why do you like him?”

“What?”

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious when you like someone. You don’t exactly hide the way you feel about people, so I’m shocked he didn’t pick up on it. I mean if he was that great if a friend, he’d know the way you feel about him, that’s all I’m saying…” 

he started tapping his finger on his knee as we continued to watch the movie. Donnie tapping only occurs when he’s stressed or mad. But why would he be mad at?... then you got a great idea.

“Hey, Donnie.”

“Yeah?” he looked down at your hands.

“Want his chocolates?”

“Wh- for me!?”

“Yeah, you’re a way better guy than Danish anyway. You deserve then Donnie.” you grab his hands and place them in his palms, but not before kissing him on his cheek. “I know I'm not April, but I’m still a girl, so you should start swooning sooner or later.” you chuckled before laying back on the couch.

You took his attention away from the movie, and you had it for the rest of the night. He didn’t eat the chocolates, he put them on the coffee table and said he was gonna eat them when he got home. Instead, he cuddled up to you, in a totally ‘platonic’ way.

“Don, I appreciate the affection but don’t you think this is weird?”

“No, you have socks on. We should watch Atlantis next.”

“I’m always down to watch Atlantis. But you’re getting up to get the remote.”

At 4 am, Donnie you two finish Hunchback of Notre Dame, and you fell asleep on the couch. He cleaned up the living room so your mom wouldn’t get mad, then he picked you up and tucked you into bed.

“Thank you (Y/N)" he places a kiss on your forehead. Then he leaves out the window.”

You wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, but on your way back to your bed you see something on your windowsill. You go over to see what it is and it’s a beautiful parasol, with a sticker on it, a purple turtle.

Thank you sooo much for reading!!! If you liked this please give me some feedback on ur favorite parts so I can get better at writing (cuz I’m really not the best) and I hope u have a good day <3

[vodika-vibes]

You Don't Have To Worry

Summary: You hate being confined to bed, it makes you feel pathetic and useless. Boba has opinions on your feelings though.

Pairing: Boba Fett x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1561

Warnings: Reader is described as having hair long enough to pull into a knot and it's "fluffed" by Boba at one point. Reader wears fine silks, but there's no stated gender. Reader gets migraines based on how my migraines go.

A/N: I love boba and I have a migraine forming, so I squished both together and created this.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

The worst thing about living on Tatooine, in your opinion, aside from the rampant crime, the miserable heat, and the sand that gets everywhere, are the twin suns that sit high in the sky.

Why?

Because when you have a migraine, there’s no possible way to avoid the light.

It’s constant.

All consuming.

And it’s pushing you to start your villain arc if you’re going to be completely honest.

Boba won’t mind. Hell, he might even help if you word it correctly.

He’s great that way. 

You roll onto your stomach and bury your face in your soft pillows. Every movement is like someone is stabbing a knife into your brain through your eye. Maybe, if you smother yourself, the pain will go away.

The Chrono next to the bed chimes annoyingly, and even that noise is enough to make you groan in pain. Blindly, you scrabble for the small device to turn it off, and then you grab your comm and squint at the screen.

You have a meeting in two hours. One that you swore to Boba that you can handle for him. 

Fuck.

Fuckity fuck.

Slowly you sit up and roll out of your bed, literally in this case, as you just sort of sink to the floor while wrapped in your thin blankets.

This is fine.

Who cares if the room is spinning? You can handle it. And the nausea is easily ignored so long as you don’t try to eat or drink anything. And, so long as you don’t move your head too much, the pain is hardly noticeable. Ish.

You take a long moment to untangle yourself from your blankets before you drag yourself to the fresher to shower and make yourself presentable as Boba’s Riduur.

Luckily, you can do your morning routine blindfolded. 

Body and hair are washed, and then your hair is styled and twisted up off your neck. Lotion, to keep your skin from cracking due to the dry air, and makeup, because you do have to look like you belong next to Boba. You elect to skip your perfume, knowing from experience that the scent will make you throw up, and instead apply a little more lightly scented lotion.

Then you drape your body in the fine silks that Boba buys for you and pull on the sturdy boots that Boba and Fennec insist you wear under your fine clothes, and you stop and stand in front of your full-length mirror.

There. Perfect.

You look, every inch, like the Daimyo’s Riduur. Perfectly styled and coifed.

And, you did so without crying or throwing up.

You deserve a gold star.

Now. All you have to do is get through this meeting without showing that you’re in pain. Easy.

At least, it’s easy in theory.

Half an hour later, you’re having some regrets as the men you’re meeting with are both very loud and very drunk, and you’re torn between stabbing them to make them shut up, and stabbing yourself to make the pain go away.

Much more distressingly, you can feel Boba’s gaze on you.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve gone out of your way to make sure that you look fine, and that you’re using all of your skills (developed over years of working retail) to keep a placid smile on your face.

Boba knows that there’s something off with you.

Of course, he does.

He has a sixth sense when it comes to you.

If he finds out, for sure, that you’re working with a migraine he’s going to scold you. And this will be just another burden your Riduur will have to bear.

So you shove the pain to the back of your mind, and you smoothly get the meeting back on track.

Though, in the end, it doesn’t matter.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Boba interrupts the meeting and sends the businessmen on their way with a curt, “We’re not interested.” As soon as the room is empty, he pulls his helmet off and pins you with a severe look.

You avert your gaze and absently twist a strand of hair between your fingers. It’s so hot, already, that your hair is already falling out of the knot you put it in. 

“You have a migraine?” It’s not a question, for all that it’s phrased as such.

“I’m fine,” You reply immediately, turning your head to look at him, only to wince at the stabbing pain in your head, “You don’t have to worry about me.” You try to reassure him, but his expression only grows more severe.

“It is my job as your riduur to worry about you.”

“Well, yes, but—”

He presses his hand over your mouth, “You’re going back to bed. Have you taken anything yet?”

You sigh and your shoulders droop slightly, “No.”

“Why?”

You twist your lips but don’t answer him. Can’t answer him, really, around the lump in your throat. All you wanted was to prove that you could stand next to him without adding to his troubles. To prove to all of the people who claimed that you don’t belong next to Boba wrong.

And you can’t even do that right.

Boba sighs, a heavy noise that has you cringing internally. 

“Come along, riduur. Let’s get you settled back in our room.” Boba’s hand is light as it settles on your lower back. He doesn’t seem to mind that you don’t want to answer him.

The walk back to your room is long and quiet. A part of you appreciates it, your head hurts so much that any talking sounds like torture to you. And a part of you can’t help but worry if Boba is actually that mad at you.

Once you’re both in the bedroom, Boba carefully pulls your hair out of the complicated knot you pulled it into earlier and uses his fingers to fluff your hair, then he peels you out of the fine silks you’re wearing and pulls one of his shirts over your head.

It’s only after he sits you on the end of the bed and starts wiping the makeup off your face that he speaks again, “Do you feel like telling me why you didn’t take your medicine yet?” He doesn’t sound angry, just mildly curious.

You shrug a single shoulder.

He lightly taps your chin, “Head back, riduur, I need to get to your eyes.”

You obediently obey him, your eyes closing as you tilt your head back.

He’s quiet for a bit longer as he cleans your face with the same meticulous detail that he pays when he’s cleaning his armor, “You know, we got that medicine to help you with your migraines, riduur.”

“It makes me tired.”

“There you are, I was worried that someone stole your voice,” He sinks to his knee in front of you, his dark eyes scanning your face, “I’d rather you be tired than in pain, riduur.” One of his hands rests on your knee, and you absently trail your fingers over the top of his glove.

“I know.”

He swiftly tugs his glove off and flips his hand so he can take your hand in his, “So why would you allow yourself to stay in pain? Talk to me, riduur. I can’t help if I don’t know the problem.”

“I just…” You trail off, “I promised that I would handle it—”

“Riduur, we were never going to agree to the deal, the meeting wasn’t so important that you needed to torture yourself.” Boba’s voice is so gentle with you that you want to cry.

“I didn’t want to add to your burdens.” You admit, “And my migraines…” You trail off, “I’m sorry, Boba.”

“You don’t have to apologize for getting migraines, it’s not your fault.” He kisses your hand, “but, I’m very curious to hear who, exactly, called you a burden to me.” His voice is still very light, and conversational, but there’s an undertone in his voice that you’re very familiar with.

Something dark and dangerous. 

Something you haven’t heard in his voice since he stepped up as Daimyo.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” You start, “I’m not worth it—”

“I disagree. You’re my riduur and someone made you feel like you’re lesser than you are. That is very much worth my time.”

You’re quiet for a moment, and then you sigh, “Just some people I grew up with, and some members of my family.” 

He nods but doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he kisses your hand one more time, and then goes into the fresher and returns with a single foil packet. “One pill, right?”

“Yeah.”

He hands you the packet and makes sure that you take the pill before he ushers you back into bed and tucks your blankets around you, “I’ll bring you lunch in a couple of hours. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

You release a soft laugh, “I promise.”

“Good.” Boba kisses your temple, “Love you, riduur.”

“Love you too, Boba.” He kisses you gently, and then pulls away. He takes a moment to make sure that the thick curtains are shielding the room from the suns outside, and he dims the lights, and then he’s gone.

And you, well with the twin suns blocked from entering the room, and your medicine running through your system, you slowly slip back into the waiting arms of slumber.

@heidnspeak

@justiceandwar98

@etod

@kiss-anon

@lonewolflupe

@silly-starfish

@msmeredithrose

@cdblake1565

@badbatch-bitch

@continous-mistakes

@falconfeather23435

@tiredbi-peach

@kimiheartblade

@clones-cyare

@cc--2224

@0revna0

@mira-loves-star-wars

@trixie2023

@rebell-ious

@padawancat97

@sweater-sloot

@bekahcurlygirl

@bb8-99

@maniacalbooper

@wax-birds

@adriennelenoir

@omegaprime18

@bad4amficideas

@dukeoftheblackstar

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@arctech-fox