#i miss my mothers so badly bring them back
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mymindisneverhere · 2 days ago
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Part Three
warnings: 18+, MDNI!, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, lots of dialogue, slow burn (forgive me if I missed any)
Part One | Part Two
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Terry stood in the large living room, looking at himself in the full body mirror as he tightened his tie. He stared at this version of himself for a long minute. He wasn’t the tuxedo wearing type but he had to admit it didn’t look bad on him. 
Khloé had managed to hire the perfect tailor to be sure the tux would fit just right. Terry spent hours being measured, trying on different jackets and pants, and walking back and forth to ensure comfort while wearing the tux. 
She was there for every moment of it, taking him in each time he removed a shirt and replaced it with a different one. She noticed the scar on his back near his right shoulder. She wanted so badly to ask him about being shot but she decided not to. She assumed that would be too much of a sensitive subject and she didn’t want to go that route.  
Terry looked down at his watch, a simple black watch that had to be approved by Khloé of course. He was big on being punctual as well, so he made sure to keep up with time even when Khloé wasn’t. 
“Your car is down stairs, everything is set and ready to go.” Olivia said, walking into the living room. 
Terry turned to face her unsure of who she was talking to. 
“I’m driving?” 
“Yes sir, a luxury sedan has been rented for the evening. Ms. MacArthur prefers not to have drivers, she’s very strict on privacy.” Olivia spoke quickly. “The destination is already in the GPS for you. The directions will begin as soon as you pull off.” 
“Thank you.” Terry nodded and proceeded to take a seat on the large sectional sofa. He looked down at his phone, reading the messages that were pouring in from Summer. 
‘A $16,000 check just came in the mail, I know you had something to do with it!!’
‘I can’t accept this, how am I going to pay it back?’ 
‘This is too good to be true, call me as soon as you can!’ 
He was so focused on the text messages, he didn’t notice Khloé enter the room until the scent of soft florals hit his nostrils.  
“How do I look?” She asked, staring at him, a bit of innocence in her voice. 
He eyed her, starting from her feet and making his way up to the crown of her head. The long red dress she wore accentuated her hips and brought in her waist. The details were subtle but didn’t go unnoticed by Terry. The strapless dress lifted her breasts, bringing out the natural shape of them. Her hair was pinned in a beautiful updo with a few pieces framing her face, a soft curl in each. And to top it all off her signature red lip, which was clearly her favorite… and his. 
The longer he stared, the more she felt herself wanting to shrink a bit but she did her best to remain unmoved. He hardly ever wore his emotions on his sleeve so reading him was becoming a bit of a challenge for her. The nervous feeling quickly began to fade as she saw his expression soften. 
“You look beautiful.” He stood. “Red fits you perfectly.” 
She smiled at him. 
“Well let’s go, I really don’t wanna be late.” She said, grabbing her small clutch purse. “My mother won’t let me hear the last of it.” 
They headed to the lobby of the condominium. As they passed through, they earned a few stares. People couldn’t help but to turn their attention to the two of them. Khloé strutting across the floor, Terry not too far behind her. They both had very demanding auras and together their energies swarmed the room without warning. 
“I have a question.” Terry said. 
“Ask.” 
“Is this something I need to get used to?” Terry questioned, referring to the looks they received a while ago. 
“Absolutely.” She smiled up at him. 
Their car was parked in front, a young man wearing a valet jacket stood by to be sure the car went untouched. The glossy black sedan sat already running, headlights shining bright. 
Without her needing to say anything, Terry walked ahead of her and opened the passenger door, waiting for her to climb in. 
“Ooh,” She started. “Keep it up and you might earn yourself a treat.” 
Terry smirked, trying his hardest to hide his amusement. He got into the driver's seat and adjusted the seat to his liking, scooting it back until he had the proper leg room. 
“A few things I need to go over before we get there.” She began. “If anyone asks where we met, we met on vacation.” 
“How long have we been together?” He asked, putting the gear in drive and pulling off. 
“6 months. Tell them you’re in real estate. They’re gonna wanna know if you make enough money to be with me.” 
He looked over at her as they approached a red light. 
“My family only sees money, they believe that’s the only thing that’ll keep me happy. They don’t care about love or any emotions for that matter. As long as the money flows, they will mind their damn business.” She said looking over at him. 
They stared at each other for a few seconds until the bright traffic light went green. Khloé went on to tell him how he should go about speaking to her parents, what to say and what to do. She filled him in on the latest drama with her siblings and her cousins and made sure to tell him who to look out for and who to avoid at all costs. 
“Anything else I should know?” 
“Lastly, my cousin Nia. She’s a bitch. I hate her, she hates me. She’s been in competition with me since we were teenagers. I get a car, she gets a car, I get a diamond bracelet, she gets a diamond bracelet, I go to Harvard, bitch breaks her neck to go to Yale.” She pointed a stern finger to him. “You can mingle with anyone at the banquet but stay away from that sneaky bitch.” 
“Yes ma’am.” 
The car ride the rest of the way was silent but the tension was impossible to ignore. Every now and then Khloé would sneak glances over at Terry while he drove, one hand on the wheel the other on his lap. She stared at his hands imagining what they’d feel like inside of her. Images of him playing in her pussy while he drove began flashing in her mind and she quickly tore her gaze from him.
He could feel her eyes on him but his expression never changed. If there was one thing he’d taken away from being a marine, it was keeping his poker face intact. There was no way she’d know what he was really thinking unless he decided to let it be known.  
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“You have reached your destination.” 
They pulled up in front of the large banquet hall surrounded by guests and valet. Finally coming back into reality Khloé took a deep breath before exiting the car. 
“I got it.” Terry said, before she could grab the door handle. 
Khloé smiled to herself. ‘This one comes trained.’
He rounded the car and opened her door, placing his hand out for her to grab. She stepped out of the car and smiled at some of the guests who were entering the banquet the same time as her. 
“Ready?” She asked. 
“Ready.” 
They reached for each other's hands simultaneously, intertwining their fingers as they made their way into the building. The sound of soft music playing in the background filled their ears, along with light chatter from guests. 
They stopped at the double doors that were propped open, leading into the ballroom. Turning to him, she began fixing his tie, not that it needed fixing but to simply try and cover her nervousness. She tightened his tie, dusted his shoulders and tugged lightly on his collar. 
“I make you that nervous?” Terry smirked, staring down at her. 
“As pretty as your lips are, they're gonna keep you in trouble.” She smirked back. “Let’s enjoy the banquet.” 
Khloe held onto his arm as they entered the large ballroom. Each table was draped in white cloth, expensive tableware and champagne flutes. A large banner with the words “MacArthur Banquet” hung from the ceiling just above the small stage in the room. Khloé looked around the room taking in her surroundings. Unlike Terry, Khloé didn’t do that good of a job at hiding her emotions. 
She worried about what her parents' would think of her date. She’d hoped and prayed they wouldn’t go digging into his background to find out that not only is he a warehouse worker but that he’s also a bit of a rebel. 
“Princess!” Mr. MacArthur announced, snapping her of her thoughts. 
“Hi Daddy!” She ran to him, giving him a hug as he placed a soft kiss on her cheek. 
She greeted the woman standing next to him, placing a kiss on her cheek as well. Terry stood, admiring how they embraced each other. It was clear to him that this was her mother, the woman was a spitting image of Khloé just a bit older. 
“It’s so good to see you, you look so beautiful.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled, holding onto her daughter's hand. 
Her father tore his eyes from her and they landed on Terry. “Who is this?” 
“Mom, Dad, this is Terrance.” Khloé stepped back to stand next to Terry, placing a hand on his arm. 
“Terrance this is my dad, John MacArthur and my mom Angela MacArthur.” 
“You got a last name Terrance?” Mr. MacArthur asked, placing his hand out for Terry to shake. 
“Terrance Richmond sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Terry responded, firmly shaking the man’s hand and then her mothers. 
“The pleasure is ours. It’s good to see she has someone keeping her company. I just hope you’re a strong and patient man, my Khloé can be a handful at times.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled up at him. She turned her gaze to her daughter, bringing her into another embrace. “Don’t screw this one over, okay? You don’t want to be old and alone.” 
Khloé clenched her jaw before replacing the menacing look with a fake grin. Mr. MacArthur and Mrs. MacArthur excused themselves from the two as they made their way around the room, greeting guests as they entered. 
Terry noticed the sudden change in Khloés expression no matter how hard she tried to disguise it. 
“You okay?” He asked. 
“I’m fine.” She responded, running her hands down the length of her dress. “Let’s have a seat, they’re about to begin.” 
The family banquet began with greetings from Mr. and Mrs. MacArthur. The couple stood on stage thanking guests for joining them for another banquet and proceeded with their usual program. 
The banquet was yet another success as it had been for the past few years. There were small awards and acknowledgments being made all evening. From praises for large sales, increasing income and openings of new locations for the family business, the banquet had gone exactly as planned. 
However Terry couldn’t help but sense Khloés tense energy. It didn’t help that she had become a bit fidgety. Fixing her hair every 10 minutes, wiping invisible lent from his jacket and plastering an artificial smile on her face each time she would interact with the other guests. 
It wasn’t necessarily Terry's place to ask her about her relationship with her parents but he was very curious. He tried his hardest to remind himself of why he was even there to begin with. 
‘I’m doing her a favor, she’s doing me a favor.’ 
“I’m gonna go catch up with a few people, you’ll be alright by yourself won’t you?” She asked. 
“I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine.” He replied, taking a sip of water. 
“Stop testing me Mr. Richmond.” She warned, referring to his smart comment. 
He smiled, placing his glass back on the table. 
Khloé got up and made her way around the room for a bit, grabbing glasses of champagne as they were being offered to her. She mingled with family and friends, sharing memories of the past and hopes of the future. After a few glasses, she was really feeling the effects of the alcohol. A sudden boost of confidence washed over her, bringing her right back to her normal self. 
Remembering she had the finest gentleman in the room as her date, she wanted to make sure she was attending to him. She looked over to their table, hoping his eyes were already on her. Her excitement quickly faded once she noticed who he was talking to. 
“Excuse me, I hope I’m not being too forward but you are so handsome.” A woman said, causing Terry to look her way. 
She was tall, slim and snatched like a supermodel. She was a pretty woman but her style clashed with her looks. She wore a royal blue dress, bright gold accessories and red lipstick. Almost similar to Khloés but not quite. 
“Thank you.” He smiled humbly. 
“I’m Imani, I’m Khloés older cousin.” She held out her hand, palm facing down as if she was waiting for him to kiss it. 
He stared at it for a few seconds and decided to shake it instead. 
“Nice to meet you Imani, I’m Terrance.”
Imani laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Respecting your girlfriend I see, but I understand. I’m sure if she found out I was talking to you she’d lose her shit. She’s been in a silent competition with me since we were kids but she’s my little cousin so I’m flattered.” 
Terry nodded, allowing the woman to speak freely simply because he wasn’t interested in speaking to her at all. There was just something about her energy that wasn’t sitting right with him but he didn’t want to be entirely rude to her. After all, he was a guest at her family’s event. 
“Oops, I should go, she’s staring. Don’t wanna get you in any trouble. Enjoy the night handsome.” She said flipping her ponytail off of her shoulder and twisting her hips as hard as she could hoping he was watching. 
But his eyes met Khloés from across the room. She didn’t necessarily look pissed but she didn’t look too happy either. The look on her face was stern almost as if he had done something he wasn’t supposed to. He quickly recalled the name of the person he was told not to mingle with. 
‘Nia.’ He thought to himself, shrugging because he was in the clear. 
He relaxed in his chair, sitting back and parting his legs from one another but she still hadn’t broken their gaze. It was as if they were communicating with one another without needing to say anything at all.
After a few moments, she smiled and made her way across the room to him.   
“Dance with me Mr. Richmond.” She stated, staring down at him through a tipsy gaze. 
Terry stood as she grabbed his hand and led them to the small dance floor. They joined a few other guests on the floor as well. Some were relatives of Khloés, others just friends of the family. 
Once they reached a secure spot, they embraced each other. Khloé wrapped her arms around his neck, silently thanking herself for wearing heels given his height. Terry’s hands snaked around her waist and they slowly swayed to the soft music. The longer they danced, the more Terry could feel Khloé slowly relaxing in his embrace. 
They rested their heads against the others, her forehead comfortable against this jaw. 
“Can I be honest with you?” Khloé asked.
“Of course.” 
“I didn’t tell you the full reason as to why I offered you the money to be my boyfriend.” She started. 
“Why am I not surprised?” 
“I mean yes I need you for events and to keep my family quiet but…” Her voice faded. 
“But?” 
She took a deep breath and told him all that he needed to know. 
“The truth is I want you in the worst way.”
She felt his jaw clench against her temple as she spoke.
“The moment I saw you, the things I began to see in my mind were so… vivid.” 
“What did you see?” He questioned, keeping his voice as low as possible. 
Khloés breath caught in her throat at his question. She thought her honesty would tear him from her. Her admitting that she was simply lusting after him should’ve bothered him but instead he leaned into it. 
“I imagined the view I’d have of you, from down on my knees. I imagined how much fun I would have edging you until you begged me to let you cum. I saw myself tying you to the bed and riding you for as long as I wanted.” 
Terry’s jaw clenched once more but he remained silent, still holding onto her waist.  
“You’d cum again and again and again.” The longer she spoke, the easier it was becoming to speak freely. 
She looked around the room to be sure no one was paying them any attention and she was right. They continued to sway back and forth to the soft music being played by the live band. She could feel his heartbeat increase as she held onto him. His breathing was steady but the rest of him was rising. 
“I felt bad at first because you seemed like a sweet and innocent guy. But in all honesty, I enjoy dominating men.” She admitted. “Not just any men but the ones who reek of dominance, men like you. The ones who walk around so unbothered, so unfazed. Always wearing a straight face because nothing can sway you. But I know you want to feel my lips around your dick. That’s why you get so stuck in a daze staring at them while I’m talking to you.” She spoke, her lips gently brushing against his neck.
Terry let out a deep breath but still remained silent. There was no need in denying any of what she was saying because all of it was true. 
“You know what I love the most about the male anatomy? It’s that no matter how much you try to hide it, no matter how still your expression is, I’ll always know how bad you want me.” She brought her hand to the back of his head and lowered it so her lips were level with his ear. 
“I can feel you through my dress.” She whispered. 
Terry tightened the hold he had on her waist, bringing her even closer to him. He was hoping that no one else would notice the “excitement” that she was feeling. Deep down, he wanted so desperately to drag her off the dance floor and find the nearest bathroom or utility closet, but he was at her command. He wouldn’t move until she gave the green light to do so. 
“Why are you so quiet Mr. Richmond, cat got your tongue?” She teased. 
“No ma’am, I just don’t have a lot to say right now. Only a couple of things I wanna do.” 
She giggled at his response. She had him exactly where she wanted him, craving her but unable to do anything about it. They were in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by dozens of people, there was no way he’d do anything to draw attention to the two of them. 
“I was looking forward to tasting you tonight but your behavior needs adjusting.”
Terry stood up straight, bringing his eyes to meet hers. 
“What’s wrong with my behavior?” He asked, his eyes shifting back and forth between hers. 
Before Khloé could respond, her mothers voice erupted through the speakers. Khloé turned to face the stage, pressing her back against his abdomen. She figured since she was the cause for his excitement the least she could do was help him conceal it. 
“Thank you all so much for another successful MacArthur banquet! Congratulations to all of the recipients of tonight’s awards.” Mrs. MacArthur spoke into the mic. “We love to see our family and friends grow in business, in love and in prosperity as the years go by.” 
Everyone applauded as she made her closing announcements. 
“Don’t forget to grab a goodie bag on the way out and please drive home safely. We will see you all next year, goodnight and God bless!” 
Khloé turned to grab her things from their table, she said her goodbyes to her family and made her way to the car. Terry was right behind her, replaying the night in his mind. He did just as he was told, interacting with little to no guests and speaking when spoken to. So what was she talking about?
“Do you have the ticket for valet?” Khloé asked him a bit nonchalantly. 
Terry dug into his pocket and handed the ticket to the man dressed in a red jacket. Within a few minutes their car was pulled to the front of the hall. Terry opened the door for her and then made his way to the driver's side. 
“What was wrong with my behavior tonight?” Terry asked, looking over at her. 
“Just drive please.” She spoke softly, not even bothering to look over at him. 
Terry took a deep breath before pulling away from the curb. They made their way back into the streets of downtown. The ride was silent once again. Terry was racking his brain trying to figure out what she was talking about but nothing was coming to the surface. Khloé sat quietly, not planning on telling him what he did wrong until they were back at her place. 
“You have reached your destination.” 
Terry unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the car. A few seconds later, he opened Khloés door and waited for her to step out. He handed the keys to the valet and they made their way into the building. Khloé walked a few feet ahead of him, enjoying the feeling of having this grown man following behind her everywhere she went. 
Khloé pressed the button to call the elevator and stepped inside once the doors opened. Terry pressed the button marked ‘30’ and they sat silently for the majority of the ride up to her condo. 
“When we get upstairs, take off your jacket and dress shirt and wait for me in the living room.” Khloé instructed, keeping her eyes forward. 
“Yes ma’am.” 
“30th floor” 
The two made their way down the long hall and entered her home. Terry did as he was asked and placed his clothes on the arm of the couch. He took a seat, only dressed in his undershirt and pants. While Khloé was off in her room, he took this time to respond to Summers' messages letting her know that he’d be by to explain everything to her. 
Khloé stepped into her bathroom to remove her dress. She wore a black panty and bra set underneath, already prepared for the night. She grabbed her black satin robe and slipped into it, not bothering to remove her heels. Taking one last look in the mirror to be sure she looked good, she made her way into the living room. 
“Stand when I enter the room.” She spoke, causing Terry’s head to snap up. 
He stood from the couch and eyed her from head to toe. Her body was heavent sent. Decorated in lace fabric, her skin slightly glistened from the mixture of body shimmer and the soft lighting in the room. His dick began growing in his pants again as she stood there staring at him. 
“Come.” She said, pointing her finger to a spot directly in front of her. 
Terry walked around the small coffee table, slowly approaching her until the top of their shoes were almost touching. She loved that he towered over her even in her heels. As intimidating as he could be at times, she enjoyed the fact that she was the one truly in charge.  
“Before I start, you do get a say in this, I’m not a completely inconsiderate bitch.” She started. “If you don’t want to do this just say so and I’ll call it off.” 
“Did you hear me say that?” He asked. There was that smart ass mouth again. 
Khloé smirked at his question. “I need your consent Mr. Richmond.” 
“You have my consent Ms. MacArthur.” He stared down at her with a sly grin on his face. 
“You’re familiar with these right?” Khloé held up a pair of handcuffs, loosely dangling off of her fingers. 
Terry let out a light chuckle, still keeping his eyes on hers. 
“Turn around.” She instructed. 
Terry did as he was told. 
This was the first time she was seeing him nearly undressed, up close like this. Her eyes roamed from his freshly cut hair, down to the back of his neck and landed on his broad shoulders. She licked her lips as her eyes continued down the length of his toned arms, and finally landed on his ass. She held her breath as she tried to restrain herself from saying “fuck it” and pouncing on him. 
“You gone spank me for being a bad boy?” He joked sarcastically, bringing her back to the present. 
“You’re not funny. Besides I don’t like to cause pain, at least not in that way.” She answered, placing the cuffs around his wrists and clicking them closed. She grabbed his arm and walked him to the end of the sofa. She turned him round until he faced her and took a few steps back. 
They stared at each other for a while. There was no need to speak because the amount of hunger in the room from both parties spoke volumes. Terry stood tall, hands behind his back, eyes low and rested on hers. The wifebeater he wore almost clung to him the way his toned body filled the thin fabric. Terry waited patiently for her next command, his expression remaining as calm as ever. 
The only sound in the room was their breathing. Khloé stood there secretly hoping that this would be her last partner or simply one that could last her a very long time. She doubted that she’d ever come across someone else who was crafted as perfectly as he was. His body, his voice, his eyes, his whole damn face and especially those damn lips. She only hoped that his skills in bed matched his looks. 
“On your knees.” 
to be continued… 
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noahsartt · 5 months ago
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my brain 24/7 they need to free me
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thewidowsledger · 2 months ago
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Bearer Of The Seed
© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE
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Pairings: Targaryen!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
Word count: 5.1k
Tags | Warnings: +18, HOUSE OF THE DRAGON AU, AMAB!Natasha, Targayen!Natasha, smut, angst (sex just for the obligation of making heirs), forced marriage (political arrangement to save reader's family), Natasha plots to make reader pregnant while reader plots to deceive Natasha lol, lots of chasing, top!Natasha, bottom!reader, dubious consent, breeding kink, rough sex, bleeding (reader is a virgin), creampie, fingering (r receiving), overstimulation & squirting (r receiving)
Author’s Note: Tiger cub!!!! 🐅 Thank you so much for your request and I hope I wrote your request the way you imagined it to be. Yey, my first fic request done! There are more, hihi <3 ps. I am not actually back yet, I just wanted to post this ksksskskss
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“Rest and heal, my sweet. And I will make sure to make up for the night we missed,” she said in a soft and gentle tone, only for you to hear as you continued to lie there, your eyes closed in what appeared to be a deep and restful sleep.
“I’ll have you full of my seed in no time.”
She caressed your face for the last time gently before leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“Father, smith, warrior. Mother, maiden, crone, stranger…”
The words felt like acid on your tongue. Each one stinging you as they leave your lips. You loathed having to say them. You loathed having to agree. This wasn't some love match. It was the voice of a prisoner accepting their fate.
You force yourself to keep your eyes on Natasha, refusing to blink despite the tears forming. You will not cry. Not in her presence. You will not give her that satisfaction. So you try your best to stand tall, to be defiant. Though it's hard when you feel so completely defeated as you said the final words that will seal you both forever.
“I am yours...and you are mine. From this day...until the end of my days.”
The last word was hardly out of your mouth when Natasha took a step forward and captured your lips with hers. Natasha’s grip on your hips tightens as she pulls you firmly against her. Her lips are rough and insistent as they move against yours. You can feel the tension and desire coursing through her as she claims your mouth in a possessive, greedy kiss.
With what seems like great effort, Natasha breaks the kiss. She takes a step back and you notice a sly smirk slowly appear on his face as she watches you try to catch your breath and you so badly wanted to wipe that on her face. Clearly, she was enjoying the effect she had on you, but you will not make this easy for her.
You will make sure to play this game on your hands, not hers.
“Heirs…”
Hearing your now family bring up the subject of heirs, made you feel a lump form in your throat. It was something you'd tried to avoid thinking about, but you knew it was a reality you would have to face.
Natasha didn't even flinch. She seems confident and unbothered, like she has no concerns in that regard. She responds without missing a beat.
“Oh, we’ll have heirs. Plenty of them, in fact.”
Natasha's grip on your hands tightens slightly, you force a tight-lipped smile on your face as you struggle to appear calm.
“I will make sure that our marriage bed will not lack heat. We’ll have as many children as the gods see fit to bless us with.” She added with such confidence.
You knew that the celebration was coming to an end and you were starting to feel overwhelmed by the noise and the crowd—by her. The air felt hot and stifling. Without saying a word, you excused yourself but as you stood Natasha didn't let go of your hand. So you eyed her intently authoritatively and she immediately released your hand, you didn't miss the flicker of hesitation and fear in her eyes. Her usual confident and authoritative demeanor seemed to be gone for a moment, revealing just the slightest crack in her armor.
As you walked, a small smirk tugged your lips, it gave you a sense of satisfaction, knowing that you had the power to affect her in that way. For a brief moment, you felt like you were in control, that you had some bargaining power in this situation.
Of course you do, you will play this game right on your palm, right?
You stepped into the cool night air of the corridors outside, you tried not to let your emotions get the best of you as you thought about the fact that your family had been saved, you realized just how high the cost was. Natasha had saved you from ruin, but the price was steep. You were now the payment, a pawn in a larger game of power and politics. Knowing that you were traded like a piece of livestock in exchange for your family’s safety, it was a bitter pill to swallow.
One of the foremost was the fact that you will need to carry the child of someone you didn't really know. Natasha Romanoff was a complex and dangerous woman, unpredictable, impulsive and arrogant—those are the only things you know about her. So the thought of being connected to her through a child was unsettling, to say the least. Yet you knew, as soon as the words of the scripted vows you loathed to say forcefully fell from your lips, there was no turning back.
It is inevitable or perhaps it can be avoided?
You were lost in your own thoughts, worrying about your future, when the maid servant's voice broke your train of thought.
“The celebration is over, your Grace. The King will be expecting you in her chambers.”
Her words and the instructions were simple, but they sent a shiver of unease through you. But you wanted to test the waters, you wanted to test who among you holds such power to the both of you.
“Let her know that I am denying her request,” you replied coldly as the night breeze.
“But your Gra—”
“Tell her that.” you cut her off with a finality, “I’ll be at my chambers, I’ll retire early for tonight.” You added, hinting that if she wished to prove the power she has on you, she will come and show you.
The night slipped away and you opted for the secret chambers that only and your maester, Wanda knew. Inside, you hoped to find solitude and respite from the pressures and chaos of the day.
You stayed in the dimly lit room, the only light provided by a few flickering candles, as the night went on. You didn’t know whether or not Natasha had come to your original chambers, expecting to find you there.
But you will make sure not surrender yourself, not without a fight.
Natasha was growing increasingly frustrated as she recounted different excuses from the maid servants every time she inquired about you. She hadn't seen you since the night of your wedding, and the more time passed the more suspicious she became.
Another maid servant entered her headquarters and she is for sure to deliver another excuse from you.
“The Queen is not feeling well, you Grace.”
The maid servant stood before the King, her hands clasped in front of her nervously as she delivered her message.
“What happened? What does the maester say the issue is?” The suspicion that she had in mind is now gone and is replaced by a deep concern for you.
“Well, you Gr—”
“I will go and check on my wife.”
“I fear the Queen doesn’t want anyone in her chambe—”
“I’m not anyone, I am her King. I am her wife.”
Without another word of excuse, she rose from her seat and stalked out of the room. The King wasted no time making her way through the halls of the Keep, her steps were loud as she walked towards your chambers.
The moment Natasha stepped into the chambers, her eyes immediately fell upon your pale form lying in the bed. She was by your side in an instant, her hand reaching out to touch your forehead—and she could feel the heat radiating from you.
“Gods, you’re burning up,” she muttered, as she took in your sickly appearance.
Natasha's eyes darted to the maester as she confirmed that you would be fine in time, and that you had been examined already.
“And what is the cause of her sickness?” she questioned, her gaze returning to you.
Wanda cleared her throat, as she darted her eyes on your sleeping form. She breathed, shutting her eyes before she explained the cause of your illness.
“It appears the Queen has fallen ill due to stress and exhaustion,” she said with a shaky voice, as she watched Natasha softly caress your body. “And it would be best for her to be left alone for a few days, allowing her body to rest and recover,” she added, finally eyeing the King.
“Days?” Natasha repeated as if she didn't hear it clearly.
“Yes…”
Natasha let out a heavy sigh, her mind conflicted. On one hand, she wanted to keep you in her sight and she wanted you to be okay now so she could spend the nights with you fulfilling the obligations of making a long line of heirs. On the other, she knew the maester was likely right about your need for solitude and rest.
“Rest and heal, my sweet. And I will make sure to make up for the night we missed,” she said in a soft and gentle tone, only for you to hear as you continued to lie there, your eyes closed in what appeared to be a deep and restful sleep.
“I’ll have you full of my seed in no time.”
She caressed your face for the last time gently before leaning down to kiss your forehead.
As she withdrew, she turned to the Wanda who was standing just outside the doorway of your chamber. “Do everything you can to ensure that she is well soon,” she instructed.
“Yes, your Grace.”
As soon as Natasha left your chambers, you slowly and stealthily got up from the bed where you had been feigning sleep. Your body trembled slightly as you inhaled deep breaths, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You were grateful that your plan had worked, and that Natasha had believed your act of being sick.
Wanda, your trusted maester and ally in your plan, looked at you with a sigh as you got up from the bed.
“I told you hot water and a cloth would do the trick,” she said, referring to the method she suggested to fake your elevated temperature.
“I’ll have you full of my seed in no time.”
“My Grace, are you alright? Are you really sick now? You look pale.”
You snapped back to the present, your mind still replaying Natasha's words from earlier when she spoke to you while you were pretending to be in a deep slumber.
“I’m fine,” you assured Wanda, your voice a little shaky. “Just a bit…tired, that’s all.”
Tired of all this.
“Well, I shall leave you alone then, my Grace.”
Wanda has been the first person you became close with, and she has been nothing but supportive to cover up for you and your plans. You even heard her lie for you just a while ago and that was not even a part of your plan. But when the King asked about your condition—your fake condition, she still did with no hesitation.
“Thank you, Wanda.”
It had been several days since Natasha’s visit, and you had successfully managed to avoid her so far due to your pretense of being sick. Now, you were stepping out into the gardens, seeking a change of scenery and some fresh air.
The gardens were a lovely sight, the sun shining brightly and the flowers in full bloom. You strolled along the pathways, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.
As you were walking in the garden, relishing the tranquil surroundings, your eyes caught a glimpse of something or rather, someone—in the distance. It was Natasha, standing next to Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm.
Her gaze was fixated on you and you could tell that she was surprised to see you out and about, considering the fact that you were supposed to be unwell. And now, she is making her way over to you.
Your instincts kicked in immediately, and your first thought was to run. Without hesitation, you darted through the gardens, your heart racing as you navigated the twisting and turning paths of the maze.
As you ran, adrenaline pumped through your veins, and you quickened your pace, determined to elude her as long as possible.
You were dressed in a gown made of flowing silk, the fabric soft and lightweight against your skin. The hem of the dress brushed against the grass as you ran, occasionally catching on the leaves of the maze bushes.
You sprinted through the maze, dodging and weaving between the high walls of greenery. As you continued running through the maze, your heart rate spiked ever higher when you caught a glimpse of Natasha through the gaps in the leaves.
Seeing her so close, so determined to find you, sent another jolt of adrenaline through your body, the fight-or-flight response kicking into high gear.
Although you were aware that she would eventually catch you, you refused to let her have an easy victory. You steeled yourself, determined to play this game in your own hands.
The twists and turns of the maze became your playground. Every time you thought she was closing in, you would change direction, taking unexpected forks that would put some distance between you again.
As you sprinted through the maze, looking back in the direction you last saw Natasha, a sudden body slammed in front of you. The force knocked you off balance, catching you off guard.
A pair of hands locked around your arms, effectively trapping you, preventing any further escape.
“Are you running away from me?”
As you met Natasha’s intense gaze, your heart raced and your words came out in a slight stutter. “Y-your Grace…” you started to say, but your mind was too preoccupied with the situation to form a coherent response.
You gulped as you looked away, and then replied with a shaky voice. “No, your Grace,” you said, your eyes still fixed on the soil where you were standing. Despite your denial, there was undeniable fear in your voice.
“I was expecting that you’re still in your chambers, resting. Wanda told me you’re still sick.”
“I wanted to go out, g-get some fresh air…”
“You should’ve come to me so I will go out with you.”
“I…” you hesitated for a moment, wanting to be careful on how you’re going to say the next words, “I wanted to have some time alone, y-your Grace.”
Her grip on your arms relaxed slightly as she heard your response. “I haven't had a night alone with you since our wedding, Y/N,” she said, she sounded a bit disappointed that made you hitch your breath.
“Look at me.” She commanded, leaving no room for disobedience. And you slowly did, as your gazes met, her eyes softened with a little fire of an intense desire, and her proximity to you made your heart race even faster.
In a swift and dominating move, Natasha closed the remaining distance between you and claimed your lips in a searing kiss. Natasha sensed your attempts to resist so she deepened the kiss, her tongue demanding entry, as her hands on your arms pulled you even closer to her.
Your resistance was a futile battle and you finally surrendered to her but you fought not to moan as her tongue explored the cavern of your mouth, leaving you breathless and vulnerable. As Natasha moved her attention towards your neck, her lips and tongue trailing along the sensitive skin, you tilted your head back, submitting to her control.
Her lips left your neck as she leaned towards your ear, her words a low, seductive whisper.
“I shall be expecting to see you in my chambers tonight.”
The evening had arrived, and Natasha made her way to her chamber, fully expecting to find you there—in her bed in all your glory. However, as she entered the room, her eyes scanned the space, but you were nowhere to be seen. Her initial confusion quickly turned into seething anger as she realized you didn’t follow her command.
She wasted no time and stormed through the corridors, her patience wearing thin. It has been far too long, and she is determined to have you, one way or another. Her strides were purposeful and filled with seething anger, her mind set on one mission.
To find you and bring you to her bed.
As soon as she stepped into your chambers, her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light. She approached the figure lying in the bed, she leaned closer to get a better look of you, and when she dipped her knee to the soft bed, the figure suddenly moved, emitting a piercing scream. Startled, Natasha let out a gasp, quickly realizing it wasn’t you but your maid servant.
“Y-your Grace!” The maid servant rushed out apologetically as she immediately threw the thick covers out her body and stood.
“Where is Y/N? Why are you in the Queen’s bed?!” Natasha demanded.
“Queen Y/N noticed I-I wasn’t feeling well and…well, I am fine but-but the Queen insisted that I am not fine,” the maid servant’s hands flew in different direction as she tried to explain herself, “and she told me…she insisted that I should rest, right here, in her bed. And she left.” The maid servant scrambled, the words coming out in a rush from her lips not wanting to receive the seething anger of the King.
“Forgive me, your Grace…please.”
The maid servant's continuous apologies grew quieter as Natasha's attention shifted. Her gaze moved towards the window, where she spotted a figure dashing towards the garden maze. She instantly recognized it was you, and a sly smile tugged at her lips. Ignoring the maid servant, Natasha stepped towards the window of your chambers.
Once again, you found yourself racing through the labyrinthine maze, your breath coming in short gasps as you desperately sought an escape. The twists and turns of the paths seemed to taunt you, creating a confusing web to ensnare you. Fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, your mind focused on one goal and that is to survive the night without having to spend it on the King’s bed.
Natasha’s voice echoed through the night, “Making a maid servant sleep in your own bed, just to fool me?”
Despite the gasp that escaped your lips at the sound of Natasha's seething voice, you refused to let it slow you down. Your legs propelled you forward, your bare feet pounding against the cool grass as you continued your race through the maze. There was no time for looking back, only the need to elude her pursuit.
“You were never ill, Y/N!”
As you ran through the maze, the tears of fear started to well up in your eyes, causing you to shut them tightly shut. The emotions coursing through you were overwhelming—fear, defiance, and the weight of the situation hitting you all at once. Yet, amidst it all, a small part of you stubbornly held onto the hope that you could somehow escape Natasha.
Just as you rounded a corner in the maze, a strong body suddenly locked onto you, arms encircling you like a vise grip. Caught off guard, you let out a gasp in surprise, struggling against the strong hold. The realization that Natasha had finally caught you struck you like a bolt of lightning.
“I knew you heard me that time…I never lied when I said I will make sure you’re full of my seed.”
In a swift and effortless motion, Natasha scooped you up and threw you in her shoulders, her strong grip on your thighs unyielding as she carried you to her chambers. You tried to resist, squirming and fighting against her, but her strength was undeniable. Despite your attempts to break free, it was clear that you had no chance of escape.
The game is no longer in your hands. It never was.
The guards stationed nearby stood at their positions, their eyes averted from the scene. They could only watch as Natasha carried you flailing in her arms, your screams piercing the air. Fear for their own lives kept them in place, knowing full well that they could have their heads off if they bothered to look in your direction.
“Lock the doors!” she barked, her tone leaving no room for questions. The guards obeyed, swiftly securing the chamber doors, sealing you and Natasha inside. Without a moment of hesitation, she hurled you onto her bed, the force of her throw causing you to bounce slightly upon the plush mattress.
“Strip,” she commanded in a low voice that made you shiver in fear, “Remove every piece of clothing you wear. I want to see my wife before me in all her naked glory. Do not forget to remove any trinkets or tokens you may be wearing.”
Your hands were shaking when you let your dress slip to the floor, revealing your vulnerable form, your body betrays you with gooseflesh. Tears well up in your eyes, spilling over and cascading down your cheeks.
Natasha watched, sitting at the bed as you stripped the last piece of clothing out of your body.
Her cold, green orbs leisurely take in every inch of your bare flesh. They linger on the fullness of your breasts, the pebbled peaks begging for her touch. Her gaze trails down to the small, dark mole at the side of your breast, a unique birthmark that she commits to memory.
Her eyes continue their languid descent, taking in the slight roundness of your belly soon to be full of her seed, the flare of your hips, and the soft curls at the juncture of your thighs. She studies the glistening evidence of your fear and humiliation, the pink folds of your pussy already swollen and slick.
The shame of your nakedness burns through you like a physical touch, amplified by the fact that Natasha remains fully clothed. Her silken robes and velvet cloak seem to mock your naked form, the heavy golden brooch at her shoulder a stark reminder of the game is now holding place in her hands.
A cruel smile plays on Natasha’s lips as she sees the shame and fear in your eyes. She rises once more, her tall form towering over you. Her hands go to the sash at her waist, undoing it with deliberate slowness.
The silk slithers to the floor, pooling around her feet. She begins to slowly unlace her leather breeches, her gaze locked with yours. As the garment falls away, revealing her hardened cock, you can't help but gulp, your eyes wide with trepidation.
She stepped closer to you, caressing your cheek. You didn't know why but you leaned in to her touch as she wiped the tears off your face. She looked at your glossy eyes before she leaned forward, her lips pressing against yours in a soft, yet commanding kiss. Your lips part instinctively, allowing her to sweep her tongue inside, claiming your mouth as hers.
“Open wider,” she demands, breaking the kiss to gaze down at you. She tilts your head back further, forcing your mouth open wider. She kisses you again, this time her tongue probing deeper, exploring the warmth of your mouth. She sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth and biting down gently.
Your breath hitches, a soft whimper escaping your throat as her kiss becomes more intense. Her hands tangled in your hair and you can't help but moan softly, the sound muffled against her lips.
Natasha broke the kiss and sees the raw innocence in your eyes, the moisture making them glisten like jewels. Your lips are swollen and parted, a thin string of saliva stretching between them, quivering as you suck in ragged breaths. Her gaze darkens with lust and satisfaction.
“My bed has been lacking...heat,” she murmurs, her voice low and gravelly. She reaches out, wiping the saliva from your chin with her thumb. “And you, my sweet, are going to warm it tonight.”
You took a step backwards and tilt your head to the side to avoid her touch.
“You make it difficult,” she says, her voice tight with frustration, “to fulfill the one duty that should be simple. I have conquered cities, bent knees to mine, tamed dragons...And yet, you make it hard for me to plant my seed in your womb.”
“Am I just a bearer of your offspring?” You pinched your brows together, finally eyeing the King as the tears cascaded down your face.
“Yes,” she replied bluntly, undressing herself, “in this, you are.” As her clothing falls away, revealing her breasts and her tanned, muscular body, she meets your gaze squarely. “But know this, my sweet, you are not just any bearer.”
“You are my Queen—my own wife who dared to deceive and defy me,” she says as she steps forward, her eyes roaming over your body hungrily. “And when I have won, when you carry my child, you will be the mother of my heir.”
“And perhaps,” she says, her voice dropping to a near whisper as she leans over you, “when this is done, when my line is secured, you will be something more.” Her gaze holds yours captive. “But for tonight, you are simply the woman I must breed.”
Your heart shatters in your chest as she speaks those words. The cold, hard truth of her intent cuts deep, each word a knife twisting in your soul. You are not her beloved, her equal, but a tool, a vessel to bear her child and you knew it from the beginning.
Without you carrying her offspring, you are nothing.
Natasha then grabs you roughly, flipping you around and throwing you onto the bed. She climbs over you, positioning herself behind your ass.
With a sudden, brutal motion, she thrusts herself inside you, ignoring your cries of pain as she tears through your resisting body. She groans in satisfaction, her hands gripping your hips as she begins to rut into you with merciless force, her dragon's strength overpowering any objections you might have.
“You are mine now,” she growls, her breath hot against your ear. “No more defiance, no more resistance. You will bear my child, as is your purpose.” Each word is punctuated by a hard thrust, her hips slamming against your ass cheek with brutal intensity.
She pulls out of you suddenly, her thick cock glistening with your virgin blood. Natasha flips you over, pushing your hips in the bed. Her body pressed heavily against yours as she positioned herself between your legs. Without warning, she slams back into you, her dragon-sized cock splitting you open.
You're screaming now, your voice echoing off the walls as she fucks you with brutal, animalistic intensity.
She moves to silence your screams and releases your mouth long enough to trail her lips down your body, pausing to suckle at each breast roughly, her teeth scraping against your sensitive nipples.
“You are so tight around me, Y/N,” she groans, her voice low and possessive. “Your body was made just for my pleasure. Your virgin hole is so snug, clasping around me like a glove. You were made to be filled by me, to bear my children.”
Her hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, allowing her to bury herself deeper. As she grinds her hips against yours, she leaned down and your hands immediately claw at her back, your fingernails digging into her skin.
Her muscled back flexes under your desperate, clawing hands. You feel each ridge of muscle, the hard strength of her. Despite the pain she's causing, despite the brutal taking, your body responds to her, your core clenching around her cock as you feel her powerful body move against yours.
“Y-your…Grace…” you called out for her, mouth open as she tore you apart. You held her neck and the silver locks of her hair, your legs crossed at her waist.
“You’re my Queen.” She growled in your ear.
“Yes, your Grace!” You cried out in pain and pleasure.
“Then you will take what I give you, you will be painted with my seed and soon enough you’ll bear my heir.”
Her words made your pussy clench even tighter around her massive cock. She feels it, her thrusts becoming even more powerful as she drives her seed deep into your womb.
She straightens up, her hands gripping your hips as she slams into you one final time. Her body stiffens, her head thrown back in a silent roar as she finds her release. She grinds her hips against yours, ensuring every drop is deep inside you.
Natasha pulls out of you slowly, her eyes locked onto your well-stretched opening. She watches as her seed begins to leak out mixing with your virgin blood, a possessive growl rumbling in her chest. Without hesitation, she pushes the escaping seed back inside with her slender fingers.
“My seed stays inside you,” she continues to push her fingers inside you, scooping up her own seed and forcing it back into your walls, making sure it's as deep inside you as possible. She repeats this process several times, her fingers pumping in and out of you as she ensures her claim is secure.
The sensation of her fingers pushing into you, combined with the gentle throbbing from her earlier pumps, becomes too much to bear. You can feel yourself growing more and more sensitive, the line between pleasure and pain blurring. You moan, your voice barely a whisper.
“Your Grace...it's too much…”
She ignores your plea, her voice dark as she murmurs, “It’s Natasha for you, my sweet.” Her fingers continue to push into your overstimulated hole, the motion causing you to convulse around her.
“Natasha…” you stammer, her name tumbling from your lips like a prayer as the intense sensation consumes you. Her name on your lips, filled with such raw emotion, makes her own stomach flutter.
You convulse violently, your body shaking uncontrollably as a gush of liquid spurts out from between your thighs. Natasha muffles her approval against your neck, her voice thick with satisfaction as she feels the evidence of your spend.
“Say it again,” she demands, her fingers continuing to pump into you as the aftershocks wrack your body. “Say my name like that again, Y/N.” Her own control is slipping, your words affecting Natasha more than she’d like to admit. You whimper, your voice hoarse.
"N-Natasha...Natasha...only...only you…” Each word is punctuated by a sharp breath as your body continues to spasm around her fingers. She lets out a low groan, her head dropping to your shoulder as she listens to you beg for her alone.
“You’re so good for me,” she praises, her voice rough with desire. She withdraws her fingers from your dripping pussy, bringing them to her mouth to clean them with a hungry suckle. Her eyes never leaving yours as she does so, drinking in the sight of her Queen overcome with pleasure.
“From now on, you will sleep in this same bed as mine so I can ensure that you remain well-bred every night.”
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mobbu-min · 25 days ago
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☆ yummy in my tummy ☆
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requested by:
After reading the pretty boy fics, I got to ask: "How would the dorm leaders (and the rest if you want to write about them) react to being given food from the reader (who cooks and bakes god tier food) who is concerned for their wellbeing?" - anon Headcanons for Dorm Leaders with an s/o who loves to spoil them with delicious homemade meals, sweets and snacks. - anon Could I request something domestic? Housewardens with an s/o that cooks for them almost everyday? -anon
a/n I decided to combine these three requests! I'm not sure if there were anymore of the same variety, so if I missed it, I'm sorry T^T Gonna split this into three parts, so keep an eye out for the other two! I wanted to keep this vague, i didn’t mention any type of specific food, but make it known, i am craving tamales so badly
included: grim, all of heartslabyul and savanaclaw
tw none
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Ramshackle <3
⋆ He eats your food every day. Your best customer is the one and only GRIM THE GREAT! Food always tastes good to this little guy, but food made by you? Top tier! Nothing could beat it (the overblot stones probably could) He’s a pain in your ass when you're cooking/baking, constantly trying to get a nibble from your ingredients. His hungry ass is just too impatient. After a long and hard day, all he wants is to lay back and eat some tuna and one of your sweet treats for dessert. It's the best way to end his day.
Heartslabyul <3
⋆ You see once you start cooking for them, you’re not going to stop. Cater and Ace make sure of it. They all love your cooking! They feel so loved and cared for with each dish you lovingly made for them. Does this contribute to their ever growing feelings for you?
⋆ Yes, yes it does.
⋆ Riddle was kinda on edge by it. Not because he thought you were a horrible cook, he’s tasted Ace’s cooking before, but because he didn’t understand the warm feeling in his chest. Riddle’s mother never cooked, instead she had chefs cook the blandest (healthy, she claimed) foods for them both. He’s never felt the warmth and comfort from a home cooked dish. Trey is an excellent cook, and even better baker, but it’s Trey. You were different, always had been to him. Riddle almost moaned at the taste of the different spices and flavors that exploded in his mouth. This boy has never tasted so many all at once. It was truly an eye opener. Riddle asks if you could teach him some recipes.
⋆ So relieved. Trey is just the epitome of a parent finally sitting down after a long day when you come to help in the kitchen or bring containers of food. Trey finds himself visiting you at Ramshackle more often, with the intention of learning or cooking with you. But ends up with you ushering him to sit down and you’ll be back with some fresh soup. He really does appreciate your presence, everything about you is so comforting and lively, so you making amazing food is an added bonus. Loves to learn about different foods from your world, even more so any type of pastry/sweet! Considers asking if you want to do a bake off, but decided not to, because he knew everyone would choose you. (he would do the same tbh)
⋆ If you didn’t have a magicam account dedicated to your cooking before, well now you do! Cater will take photos of every dish you made, going on a long rant on how this is the most delicious food he’s ever eaten. If you let him, he'll post pictures and videos of you cooking/baking on the account. The account is as comforting as your food. Ofc, he has tons and tons of photos and videos on his phone of you. Cater looks forwards to whatever you make, but is especially touched when you bake something that isn’t incredibly sweet or something entirely different then what you made the others. It makes him feel special.
⋆ Ace didn’t consider himself a picky eater, at least not until he ate your food! Boy will not leave you alone. He's constantly begging you to make him food and treats. Saying 'you just killed a poor starving boy, gootbye-' and just crashes onto you. Ace just really enjoys your cooking and he melts whenever you bring him food without him asking (begging). He’s the type of person to sit on the counter and talk while you’re busy doing things all around the kitchen. It briefly reminds him of his own childhood. It’s oddly domestic that it sikes him out for a moment. But then he glances at you and suddenly that feeling is replaced with a warm fluttering feeling in his chest. (don’t question the blush on his cheeks ofc)
⋆ Deuce isn’t one for taking photos but every thing you’ve ever made him has been instantly snapped and sent to his mom. (who loves knowing that her darling son is eating well) He’s not as obvious as Ace, but Deuce tries to slyly suggest that you make him more food. And of course, he’s more than willing to help. Again, unlike Ace who sits and talks, Deuce follows you around the kitchen like a duckling, patiently awaiting your orders. He wants to be helpful! Will gladly take anything out of the oven and carry any heavy materials. Will crash if you hold up a spoon for him to taste test. Isn’t this romantic? He asks himself as he shakily takes the spoon into his mouth. Omg, and if he sees you do your own taste test with the same spoon? Oh sevens, help you both.
Savanaclaw <3
⋆ Another group that doesn’t let you stop cooking/baking for them. But at least you have free access to a buttload of money and two very eager helpers (for very different reasons)
⋆ Leona isn’t a stranger to good, probably excellent, cooked meals. He’s a prince, duh. But when it’s a meal cooked by you? Everything that he’s eaten up til now is straight trash. Pride is one way to describe how he feels, quickly followed by smug. Of course, you’d dedicate your time and energy to cook him a meal. And of course, you poured your love into every step. He’ll eat practically anything you give him, though he will side eye the vegetables and discreetly give them to Ruggie. As for sweet things, he’s not a big fan of sweets. I feel like he’d like savory flavors, maybe a little bitter or maybe a little tart. Or perhaps something with subtle flavors but a hearty texture. I’m just speculating of course, so it’s always a hit or miss when it comes to baked goods with him. Though, don’t worry, nothing you make goes to waste. Ruggie is always ready to swoop in when needed. And as mentioned before, Leona knows ingredients can get spendy, so he’s more than willing to hand you his credit card.
⋆ Speaking of credit cards, Ruggie just always happens to be in the same vicinity when that black card hits your hands. Ruggie wouldn’t call himself the greatest chef, but he is resourceful. With everything you cook, Ruggie shows you how to get the most out of your ingredients. He even shows you some low-budget/free ingredients you can find all over campus and how to make it. Ruggie is honestly a good person to have by your side when it comes to cooking, you learn plenty of new things and you get to share your own knowledge to someone you know will share with others. However, Ruggie isn’t someone that does something for free. So he expects to be taking half of whatever you're making back with him. On a cuter note, Ruggie practically bursts into two when you show up with a container full of warm, mouth watering, doughnuts. Judging by how fast Ruggies tail was wagging, you were afraid that he was about to fly up into space.
⋆ Despite his tendencies to try to keep his emotions to himself, Jack really does appreciate the effort you put in to make his meals protein pack and nutritious. And while he’s not the greatest cook, Jack helps the best he can in the kitchen. Though, he’s a little clumsy (if his culinary crucible says otherwise, no it doesn’t) but he’s eager! Jack is a quick learner so it doesn't take him very long to get the hang of things. Definitely subtly brags about it to the other first years. But if any of them dares to mention how fast his tail is wagging, he gets all pouty with embarrassment. I definitely suggest keeping it to meals and not sweet. Jack is not a sweet guy at all. Though he might indulge if you give him puppy-dog eyes.
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barcaatthemoon · 7 months ago
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sunny || alexia putellas x reader ||
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alexia thinks it's going to be a bad game until she spots you.
alexia's fists were balled up at her sides as she stood in the tunnel. she was desperately trying not to become overwhelmed with frustration. she had spoken with jona at great length about this being her first full 90 back. she felt good all week at practice, but during the warm ups, things took a bad turn.
nothing connected for alexia. her passes felt sloppy, and all the confirmation she needed was the look on her training partner's face. every move that alexia made felt awkward and uncomfortable. a part of her questioned whether she should start at all, but she had to. even if your work meeting ran over, you'd want to tune into the game and see her play. alexia wanted to do this for you.
the two of you had gotten together just after the world cup. you had seen alexia play before, but not really as her girlfriend. alexia wanted the chance to impress you, even if she thought that you couldn't actually come to today's game. she knew that you'd be watching her no matter what, so she absolutely had to play well for you.
"hey ale, isn't that your girl?" sandra teased as she pointed towards the stands. alexia's eyes followed the direction of sandra's finger until she saw you sitting next to her mother. alba sat on your other side, looking bored as the two of you chatted.
"that's her." alexia smiled as she watched the interaction. alba nudged you, interrupting your conversation to point out that alexia was staring. you looked over at her and waved excitedly, just like you always did. alexia waved back at you, hopeful that the heat she felt coming up to her cheeks wasn't visible.
it was silly, but alexia swore that she felt immediately better after you had smiled at her. she had been fully prepared to go into the game feeling awkward and a little uncomfortable, but now she didn't have to. alexia's movements were much more fluid, allowing for her to get a brace within the first half of the game.
barcelona was always a dominant team, and you had always seen alexia as their best player. today, she was proving everybody who had doubted her because of the injury wrong. you were standing and screaming in the stands cheering her on. by the end of the 90 minute game, you were absolutely exhausted as if you had played alongside your girlfriend.
"i think it is safe to say that la reina is back," patri teased as she slung her arm around alexia's shoulders. she glanced over at the stands where you were following alexia's mother as you and alba spoke to each other. alexia tried to shove patri away, but claudia and jana were right there to replace her.
"hmm, i seem to remember somebody very grumpy about today's game earlier." jana tapped her chin as she pretended to think about something. "i wonder what could have changed?"
"guys," alexia warned. her warning fell on deaf ears, but alexia couldn't bring herself to be genuinely mad with them. they were like her children, and you never did let alexia get too hard on them.
"i thought i saw a certain artist in the stands chatting with the better putellas," claudia teased. alexia did swat at the girl for the joke about alba being better. claudia winced and made a show of rubbing her arm, knowing that you were looking at her.
"stop being such a baby, it didn't hurt that badly," alexia grumbled. still, claudia held the pout until the group reached the barrier. alexia realized a second too late when she saw you dart towards claudia instead of her what had happened.
"ale, you can't just hit her. babe, i know you think you're being playful, but you are a lot stronger than you know," you scolded her lightly. alexia rolled her eyes as she shoved claudia away before she could get a hug from you. alexia put herself directly into your arms, squeezing you tight and lifting you into the air as she hugged you. "good game today, i've missed seeing you on the field."
"my little good luck charm," alexia mumbled. behind her, you caught claudia and patri mocking the two of you.
"behave, children," you warned. this time, they both jumped apart and stood still. alexia didn't understand how you could do that, but she was glad that you were around to do so. "go shower and get changed, i was thinking that we could go out to eat?"
"that sounds perfect," alexia hummed. you gave her a moment with her family as you gathered up your things. you waited inside for alexia, not wanting to risk getting a sunburn or heat sickness any more than you already had.
"does it hurt?" mapi asked as she slung her arm around alexia's shoulder. for a moment, alexia was genuinely touched that her friend was concerned about the wellbeing of her knee, but that only lasted a couple of seconds. "is the whip that (y/n) uses gentle?"
"shut up," alexia grumbled.
"no, come on. i saw you staring at her all game. i'm surprised you managed to get a touch on the ball with such a big distraction. you stare at her like an idiot stares at the sun." as if alexia needed an example, mapi turned and stared up at the lights with her mouth wide open.
"i was not staring like that, nor was i saring at all. if anything, i took brief pauses to admire (y/n) after i scored or got an assist. if she's willing to take time out of her busy schedue to support me, the least i can do is score for her," alexia reasoned. mapi thought it was all bullshit; sweet, sappy, romantic bullshit.
"whatever, just make sure she keeps coming if you're gonna play like that when she's here."
"trust me, i will," alexia promised. she wanted you at every single one of her games, club and international. if she made it to another world cup, she wanted you to be waiting for a kiss after they won it.
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makuzume · 2 months ago
Text
Toge Accidentally Uses His Cursed Speech on You (Part 4)
🔅content: Light angst/light comfort; gn!reader; no pronoun mentions
🔅synopsis: It's been 2 days since you last seen Toge... How do you go about this? What are you supposed to do? You wonder how to address the situation at hand...
🔅a/n: "What happened to posting part 4 soon" I ended up scraping the entire part 4 draft and remade it because I didn't like it :'D Thank you everyone for being so patient and putting up w my bs aaa Let me know if you want to be in the tags list and enable ur tagging :3
[JJK Masterlist] [Part 1 & 2] [Part 3]
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🔅Word Count: 2.2K
"...Should I... open it...?" You asked yourself quietly, looking down on your phone as you stared at the multiple notifications you received from Toge.
13 missed calls
31 new messegaes
All unopened, all unanswered.
Slowly, you hover your finger over to his chat box, however, you hesitate- quickly shutting off your phone and plopping down on the soft mattress where you sat.
While the rest of the Okkotsu family went out to watch the movies, you decided to stay in the house by yourself. "You should come...! I'm sure it will help lift your spirits." Mrs. Okkotsu offered, to which you kindly declined her offer.
You figured you needed some time to be alone for now, but the lack of presence in the house ended up cauing a deafening silence to fill the halls, creating more opportunities for you to overthink the recent events between you and Toge.
'...I wonder... what did he say...'
'...why am I so scared to read it...?'
Over the past two days, you've been comfortably staying over Yuta's family home in the city. But since Yuta wasn't there at the moment, his parents and sister have been kindly accomodating you the entire time.
You were incredibly embarassed and reluctant to stay over, afraid of becoming only a nuisance to the Okkotsu family, especially since current situation between you and Toge was not at all very dire, just an arguement between two lovers.
Fortunately, Yuta and his mother were understanding and very insistent that you were welcome for as long as you'd like. Afterall, you were also one of Yuta's closest friends.
Trying your best to not cause them too much trouble, you help out with minor chores like the dishes, setting up the table, throwing out the trash- but each time you do so, you were met with gentle scolding.
"We told you to rest! You're still very hurt!"
"No no no, you're a guest, put that down!"
"We are not letting you wash the plates. Go back to bed and lie down for a nap! We'll bring you some snacks later."
"Nonsense! You are not a burden! You are a good friend of Yuta, and he asked us to take care of you, so sit down and don't worry about us."
Though that did seem to reduce the amount of guilt you felt, you were still rather embarassed for staying over someone else's family home just to hide from an ongoing dispute with Toge. So, you figured you shouldn't overstay your welcome, at least.
You look at your phone once again, staring at Toge's contact name as you remember your last encounter with him.
Staring at the ceiling above, you allow the memories from the incident flood your mind once more- remembering the sorrow, the pain, the sadness....
The entire time you knew Toge, he had always felt like the safest person to be around with, and you trusted him more than anyone- be it about your safety or your feelings. Naturally, the shock from accidentally getting cursed would shaken you up quite a lot.
You were badly hurt, both physically and emotionally.
And even for a short moment, you even felt afraid of him for the first time.
A feeling you knew would devastate him if he knew.
As shy as you were to admit it, all you did the entire day after the incident was quiety cry inside the guest bedroom in Yuta's home.
You can say that you rather had mixed feelings about the whole thing. Not a moment has passed in which you weren't thinking about it.
At first, it was shock, then fear, followed by pain before sadness, eventually leading to worry- the feeling you were experiencing right now.
Why 'worry'? You think to yourself, curious as to why there was this sense of longing to see him despite the accident.
It was a strange feeling in your chest. Most certainly, you were still very much upset and hurt about what he had done to you, but still-
"...I wonder how he must feel right now..." You hug the pillow nearest to you closer to your chest, unable to stray away the concern you felt for him.
Perhaps it was the way he looked at you the moment he misused his speech on you. The way Toge's eyes expressed so much shock, the way his voice was filled with so much guilt and fear... You have never seen him act in such a way before, especially considering the fact that he was always the more calm and composed one between the two of you.
You couldn't get the desperate tone of his voice out of your head, and you frequently find yourself vividly remembering the panicked expression he displayed on his face.
"...He must be worried..." You whisper to the pillow you held tightly, your eyelids closing as you replay the events of the accident.
More than anyone, you understood him the most, and you knew that this must be really messing up his mind right now.
It was one of his deepest fears, hurting someome he loves unintentionally with his speech, and you knew how deep this sort of wound would cut him on the inside.
More so, there was also the fact that Toge had personally witnessed the tragic events that happened to his allies in Shibuya... not to mention the fact that he had also been heavily pinning the blame on himself for the death of innocent civilians' lives.... lives which he felt responsible of protecting, all because he led them to take shelter to the same area Sukuna had unleashed his Malevolent Shrine.
'Truly...' you thought.
'this must be really messing up his mind right now....'
You turn over to your side, eyes staring blankly into the empty air in front of you.
"...He was distant and acting different from what happened in Shibuya afterall... I know he didn't mean to hurt me..." you whispered quietly, trying to think of how to address the situation.
You sat up, your hand firmly grasping your phone, a hesitant but concerned tone evident in your voice "I... don't want to make him feel any worse than he already does..."
Without a doubt, Toge was always so good to you. So protective, so understanding, so kind, so loving...
He was always there for you at your lowest points... and you never even had the chance to return such comfort to him before, so you think to yourself:
'...it's my turn.'
Your previous attempt to aid his sorrow didn't end up so well, but that's why you were willing to try again; To try again for him.
He probably hasn't been consoled ever since the incindent in Shibuya either. You, Panda, Yuta, or even Maki hadn't heard from him the entire time, and that's considering that all of you are his closest friends.
You ponder about it, and then you realize he probably wouldn't have ended up hurting you by accident or behaving so distant towards everyone if he had just allowed himself to be comforted- to be held and be told 'it's okay.'
...And you couldn't help but want to be that person who does that for him.
The more you thought about this, the more you wanted to see him.
You already released all the shock, hurt, and sadness for the past few days through a few weeping sessions in the small guest room before, and you think it's about time to come out of hiding.
You try to gain back your composure.
"...I wonder where he is... I hope... he's not pushing himself." You glance at your wallpaper, looking at a picture of Toge holding up a silly little peace sign while he sat next to a cute little dog you randomly met on the street.
You couldn't help but chuckle softly for a moment, then, your smile slowly fades back to form a serious expression on your face.
You miss the smile in his eyes like in the photo.
The idea of him in such sadness, worry, and pain ended up hurting you just as much as well.
"...I should talk to him."
So, you unlock your phone, open messages, and look for his contact name once again.
His contact nickname and his silly little photo appear.
'Bonito Flakes'
"...There."
Just when you were about to tap his name, you paused.
"Uh... wait... what should I say...?"
You pull back your thumb from the screen, suddenly having a bit of a panic on how to address the situation.
"..How do I reach out to him...? What... did he text me..? Is he upset with me? Is he looking for me...?"
His last text was from yesterday night, so you weren't sure what should be the best mood to approach him at this moment.
Just then, as if fate had timed this moment perfectly, a notification suddenly pops up on the top of your screen.
1 new message from Bonito Flakes
You gasped, completely taken aback from seeing his name.
'Wait... I'm not ready...!!'
You panicked slightly, causing you to drop your phone on the hard wood floor by accident, a loud thump echoing throughout the room. Fortunately, the Okkotsu family still hasn't returned from their outing yet, otherwise, you'd give them another reason to be worried about you.
You sigh, picking it back up as you lightly shook your head to gain back your composure.
As you check your sceen, you see another text from Toge come in.
Then another.
And another.
It made you slightly nervous but curious as to what his multiple texts were saying right now, and it sort of made you even more worried to know what he sent.
Is he sad? Does he need you? Is he just reaching out? Is he leaving the school? Does he want to distance himself from you?
"I'll... wait a little..."
Ultimately, you decided to let him finish sending his messages before you view it.
He sent quite a handful of texts, and it took a while before the messages stopped coming in. But just to be sure, you waited for a few minutes in case he had any late follow ups.
"I'll.... wait a little more..." You whisper to yourself as you stare at the phone in front of you, hoping to view his messages during a time when he's offline- You just wanted to make sure there was enough time for you to process and react to his texts without the pressure of him waiting for your response.
But the green dot next to his profile picture was still lit up, meaning, that he would be able to immediately see your replies the moment you send it.
But you would prefer he only sees it AFTER you're done sending your responses.
Sighing heavily, you whisper once more '...I guess I'll wait again...'
You check again after a few minutes, it was still green. So you wait again.
More time had passed but still- the green dot remained.
You wait again.
It was all you could think about for the past few hours as you move back and forth from checking your phone to lying down, staring into nothing...
Untul finally, at hour three, the green dot turns dim.
And with that, you were left with no excuse to delay opening your inbox any longer. "...alright... here we go.... I guess..."
With a hefty sigh and a single tap of your finger, you open his inbox.
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Your eyes widened suddenly, immediate shock at the realization.
With a quickened pace, you hurridly limped towards the nearest window, the cast on your leg creating a slight scratching sound as you drag it across the floor.
Pulling away the curtains, you scan the street below in search for the white haired boy.
You squint your eyes slightly, trying to adjust your eyes to the darkness of the night.
Then, you see him.
"He... he's still there...?"
On the opposite side of the street, there sat Toge on the small pavement across from Yuta's house.
His head rested on his arm and his head hung low, perhaps taking a bit of a nap as he waited for your reply.
A wave of guilt suddenly washes over you as you realize how long you've made him wait out in the cold for a single reply.
You text him.
Toge???? Why did you wait for me?
You look drenched, what happened???
How long have you been there???
But your messages didn't seem to get through, not showing a mark of it being delivered.
"His phone battery must've died...."
Instictively, you hurried out the room with a more detemined expression, carefully treading the stairs with your injured leg, and rushed out the door.
Unintentionally, the noise of opening the door a little too quickly echoed across the dead silent street, casuing Toge to immediately jolt himself awake.
He made eye contact with you while he remained seated across the street, shocked at your sudden appearance.
Embarassed for startling him, you slightly lose your confidence and shy away from his gaze, a small lump in your throat preventing you from voicing out any words.
Toge stood up slowly, his eyes widen but his chest beated out of nervousness.
He doesn't expect anything positve, but still, he remained hopeful, as much as he felt like he didn't deserve you.
"...um...." you started, hoping to break the akward silence that filled the air.
"...I-...."
"....."
"....p-...please, come in...."
....
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[Back to JJK Masterlist] [Part 1 & 2] [Part 3] [Part 5]
a/n: So happy I finally finished this :')))))))) Shoutout to anon that poked me abt this that genuinely helped me lolol I just really needed a little push to finish this
NOTE classes are back ^^ and I'm doing some part-time comms sooo I'll be a lil busy but ofc I won't abandon this I luv this series <3
Credits to @makuzume on Tumblr || Do not steal, translate, modify, reupload my works on any platform.
tags list: @zhenyuuu @cowcreamers @mushroommorgue @yunho-leeknow @lemonnotade @exodiam @an-ever-angry-bi @cirieria @chifuyufirstwife @strxbxrrylover @sturns55
206 notes · View notes
rainybubbles · 8 months ago
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141 coming back to you after a eight months mission
Plus size reader :) !
(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC)
G H O S T
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-Eight long months, every fiber of his being yearned for a hot shower, his eyes struggled to stay open.
- Yet, it wasn't his shabby apartment that the taxi drove to.
-Simon, buried beneath the Ghost's mask, still held a glimmer of humanity within him, a breath hidden beneath Ghost's blood, death, and violence.
-But on that evening, what he ardently desired was them: their gentleness, their scent, their warmth.
-Like a wild animal slowly tamed by food, he returned to them whenever possible.
-Under the pouring rain, he advanced, hastily thanking the driver, the heavy bags weighing on his shoulders.
-He stepped into the still slumbering pastry shop, and the bell rang.
-And there they appeared.
- Covered in flour, with a pastry cap and apron, they were surprised to find someone there at five in the morning.
-"Simon," they murmured.
-The sound of his name was so sweet, so soothing.
- But he wanted more.
-He wanted them to whisper his name over and over again, filled with desire, until they could only utter it, clouded with pleasure.
-His bags fell to the ground, and his arms enveloped them in an instinctive movement.
- Their hair smelled of sugar and butter, the flour staining their black sweater. Simon wanted more.
-"Y/n"
-" I missed you," they whispered.
-He couldn't bring himself to respond, to admit this longing, but they could sense it.
-His arms didn't let them go.
-"Scone?" they asked.
-"No. "
-"Muffin?"
- "No."
-" Croissant?"
- "You," he finally said.
A silence stretched between them.
-"I have to finish my batch, I open in an hour. Do you think you can wait?"
-No, he couldn't. But reason prevailed, and he nodded.
-"I'll help you," he murmured.
-"You barely know how to fold a dough."
-"I can follow orders."
-"Sorry, soldier."
-Their laughter echoed, and a sense of relief washed over him.
- He wanted to hear that sound again and again.
- In silence, they worked. Simon followed every move, ignoring the pain, stretching each muscle. He was ready for anything.
-When the last batch was ready and the saleswoman arrived, Simon breathed a sigh of relief.
-Y/n gave their final instructions and left.
-Alone on the street, they walked together.
-Like a starving beast, Simon jumped at every crumb of affection, grabbing their hand, his fingers brushing theirs through gloves.
-"We need to talk, don't we?" they finally admitted.
-"Yes," he replied.
- "About what happened before your deployment…"
-The kiss. A hurried kiss, without thought.
- Lips so soft, erasing the bad news of his deployment and eight long months of silence.
-"I… "
-'Don't say you regret it," he finally said.
-"No, I don't. I mean it. But I don't want it to destroy us."
-"It won't."
-"I know you avoid people, Simon. Attachment."
-"Yes."
-But not them, he thought
- Since the moment his feet led him to that pastry shop. Simon knew he was doomed.
- A stupid cake for Soap's nephew, and he found himself charmed by a baker making incredible scones.
-Simon had become a regular there, a man of habit enjoying the good things, he told himself.
- It was close, he said.
-Close to his shabby apartment, to his gym.
-Just a daily stop for coffee and scones, he reasoned.
- But every morning, his eager eyes searched for their silhouette.
-Their rolls, their belly, their thighs, that smile.
- Every crumb he could get, he took.
-They eventually noticed him.
-A mountain of muscles, hidden by a mask, softened by scones, it wasn't the most discreet.
-They greeted him.
-Always the first customer at dawn.
-In reality, Simon came so early out of military habit but also to avoid the saleswoman.
-Simon desired the baker, not the small, slim saleswoman.
-Slowly, they spoke to him, and everything fell into place.
- They had become his anchor, an anchor in reality.
- A tough mission, and he came to them silently, without needing to place an order, without having to face the crowd, slipping to the back and watching them work.
-No questions, just comfort.
-The smell of sugar, flour, and eggs permeated his clothes in the most exquisite way.
-And now he dreamed of a life where this scent would be constant.
-"I don't want us to drift apart," they said.
-"We won't," he assured them.
-"So, what do we do, Simon?"
-"Kiss me."
-It was a prayer, a barely audible order, a cry for help.
-Slowly his mask fell.
- Their eyes met, hesitant but filled with desire.
-And they kissed him.
- In that dark street, under the pouring rain.
-"Again," he murmured.
-"We have to go back," they said.
- "I don't care about going back," he replied.
- "Simon, you don't want to spend your leave sick."
-"If I stay with you, I do."
-"Idiot."
- "For you."
-Their laughter burst out, and Simon kissed them again to capture it.
-Slowly, they finally arrived at their place.
-Their dog welcomed them, barking happily at Simon. And after eight long months, Simon could finally breathe.
-"I'm home," he murmured.
- "We were waiting for you," they replied.
-Nothing surpassed this feeling, he thought as he kissed them again.
-Simon was a man, and like any man, he had finally found his long-desired home in their arms.
__________
P R I C E
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-In an emotionally charged atmosphere, Price let the water flow slowly, carrying away the remnants of blood under his nails.
-After eight long months, he felt like a ship drifting without a course, without a real destination.
-At least that's what he claimed to anyone who would listen, but the ring hanging under his uniform whispered different truths to him.
-Staring at his own reflection, Price read the inscription inside the ring, a name he hadn't uttered in years.
- Like enchanted by a spell whose charm he feared, he hesitated to whisper it again.
-Yet, his heart demanded it.
-He knew it was the longing that drove him.
-Without those eight months, he wouldn't be here, longing desperately to have them back in his arms.
-(It was false; since the divorce was signed, he dreamt of them.)
-Since the day their marriage ended, he had wanted to throw himself at their feet and beg them to come back.
- He desired their warmth, their ridiculous work stories, their cooking, their scent, their fingers, their kisses.
-They were the oasis in the desert of his life, and through negligence, he had let them evaporate.
- It all dated back to before his promotion to captain.
- Back then, he was just a young lieutenant full of ambition, willing to sacrifice anything to obtain that coveted title.
-But the long hours at the office had gradually poisoned his time with them, an absence they had signaled to him, one he had ignored, one he had maintained until everything exploded like a grenade.
-Now, he stood there, on the minefield of his emotional life with a ring they had probably forgotten, longing to hear them say yes once again.
-As he dried himself off, Price settled into his office.
-He told himself it was just simple nostalgia, but the bitter taste of tobacco wasn't enough to distract him, remembering how much they hated that smell. He extinguished his cigar.
-To take his mind off things, he decided to go to the nearest bookstore. A good book would be welcome, he thought.
-"John?"
-That voice, which had haunted him for three years and eight long months of divorce.
-"Y/N."
-It had been so long.
-Too long, he thought, seeing them so different.
- He admired their new haircut, their new clothes. What a lucky man he had been.
-"Yes. Still teaching?"
-"Yes. And you, did you manage to become a captain?"
-"Yes."
-The silence stretched, their eyes avoiding his.
-"But it wasn't worth it," he admitted.
-"Too much work?"
-"Not enough of you"
-"John," they interrupted.
-"I'm not trying to get us back together, far from it. I know it won't happen, but I wanted to be honest with you. I think this divorce has been the biggest failure of my life, and you deserved better than me."
-Hesitantly, they opened their mouth, a mouth he had kissed so many times, one that had shared all their troubles, all their doubts.
-"Thank you, John. But I'm also to blame. I should have told you everything that was going on in my head, everything that wasn't right."
-"You couldn't, when all I listened to were orders."
-"Maybe…"
-"Good person, wrong time, it seems."
-"Nothing prevents us from correcting the timing, right?"
-John raised an eyebrow.
-"It doesn't mean we have to start all over, but… you've been a pillar in my life, John. I missed you. Whether as friends or more, it doesn't matter."
-"Thank you, love," John murmured.
-They approached him, and during this long absence, John could finally feel human warmth again.
-To just be John again, not Captain Price.
-Their hands wrapped around each other.
-They both knew it wouldn't be purely platonic, but like a suspended promise, for now, they would stick to it, hoping that one day the rings would find their respective places again.
-Theirs from their drawer to their finger, and his from his neck to his hand.
-"I missed you."
-"You too. Tell me what I've missed."
-And John could only smile.
-If these eight months of hell, these three years of desert led him back to them, then it was worth it, he decided.
- So when he packed for his next return, the soldiers watched him curiously because for once the captain had a home where he really wanted to be.
_________
S O A P
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-Immersed in an ocean of turmoil, Soap returned after eight months of absence, longing to celebrate his return with his family.
-His thoughts, drowned in alcohol and his mother's reprimands, were rocked by the cheery laughter of his nephews and nieces.
-Between the urge to scream and the desire to simply savor their presence, he oscillated.
-When the festivities finally came to an end, he could finally breathe.
-Eight months.
- Alone in his flat, memories flooded in, evoking strategies, bombs, deafening tumult, and lingering smells.
-Everything was an attempt at distraction; the television, the rain, a run, a cup of tea, messages on his mobile.
-He longed for something, even if he didn't know exactly what.
-But it was missing, creeping under his skin little by little, scratching at the door of his mind.
-"Again, really?'
-His eyes fell on his neighbour.
-The same one who had endured his screams at three in the morning, his hurried departures on missions, his heavy suitcases dragged at seven in the morning.
- And now, at four o'clock, they stood before him, a mischievous gleam in their eyes, the result of an incident involving dumbbells in his hands.
-"Sorry.", he apologized.
-"I'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose."
-"On purpose…? "He raised an eyebrow.
-"So that we see each other. You know, like in those cliché romances where the noisy neighbour ends up seducin' the complainin' neighbour."
-Incredulous, he couldn't help but laugh.
-"Ye wouldn't need that."
-A teasing smile stretched across his neighbour's lips.
-"I know. But you seem to need it. Not an adventure, but a distraction."
-They referred to the dumbbells.
-"Aye."
-"I make cookies." they said.
-"At 4 a.m.?"
-"I know how to keep myself busy in silence."
-"…"
-"Interested?" they asked.
-The latent feeling under Soap's skin resurfaced.
-He nodded and followed them. And then he realized.
-The warm atmosphere, the decor, the unstacked dishes, the soft carpets.
-That's what he had missed, a heaven of peace.
-"They won't be the best cookies in the world, but they'll do."
-"Ah'm good at it." he said.
-"Pastry chef?"
-"Military."
-"Hm, that explains a lot. "They gave him a complicit look.
-"Like what?" Soap asked.
-"This horrible haircut."
Laughter erupted in the kitchen.
-"Ma haircut is incredible."
-"For a 6-year-old."
-"Ah look handsome with it."
-"Even without it."they said.
-"Good at flirtin'?"he asked.
-"With the right person, yes."
-Soap smiled.
-"Ye would be bonnie with a mohawk."
-"No thanks. But, well, I understand the muscles and the irregular movements now."
-"Aye, Ah don't choose my hours."
-Too bad, you'd think criminals can't be punctual, huh? "they joked.
-He smiled.
-"Exactly."
-Hands in the dough, Soap couldn't help but let his gaze drift over his neighbour's curves.
-He admitted that sometimes his door slammed a little louder in the hope of catching a glimpse of them, like a good luck charm before a mission.
-Curves he longed to explore, letting the eight long months fade from his memory to be replaced by love for them.
-"Ah should hae made more noise if it means havin' cookies."
-His neighbour smiled.
-"Maybe. I was worried about this silence, you know."
Soap felt touched by their concern.
-"Ah'm sorry."
-"Don't apologize, you didn't decide on that. It's just… maybe I could give you my number? If you ever have plants or stuff like that, I'll take care of them."
-"Okay." he acquiesced.
-He took the paper feverishly, keeping it as a precious treasure, and continued cooking.
-At the end of that day, returning home, Soap could finally close his eyes.
-The creeping feeling had come to an end.
-That longing, that emptiness, it was them, the sound of a life together.
-He brushed the paper, a smile on his lips.
-Getting up, he decided to drop a dumbbell loudly.
- A noise at his door rang out, and he smiled. Nothing was worth his neighbour.
-So slowly he opened the door, and dinner followed to apologize.
-Then another to repay.
-And slowly, they erased from his mind the eight long months that had haunted him.
G A Z
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-After eight long months of absence, Gaz finally found a moment of respite in his humble accommodation on the base.
-The deafening noises of the base's incessant activity, the hurried faces, the soldiers' rushed departures, everything seemed to dissolve into a chaos filling his ears.
-Everything seemed to fade away as soon as he could cross the threshold of his room.
-Here, in this haven of tranquility, he could finally silence the external turmoil.
-His pulse slightly quickened as he reached for his phone, his fingers instinctively finding his favorite contact: them.
- He felt this visceral need to reassure them, to feel their presence through the voice that was so dear to him.
-In this suspended moment, he longed to hear nothing but their soothing breath, to lose himself in their tender words.
-His ears buzzed, every beep deafening his eardrums and…
-"Hello?"
-"Y/N," he murmured, relieved and tender.
-The echo of their voice provided him with a welcome comfort, a balm for his weary soul.
-"Kyle. Back among us?"
-"Yes, I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you."
-"No, I'm on break. I have a shift tonight."
-A silence stretched.
-"Is everything alright?"
-Kyle hesitated before speaking.
-Is everything alright? The blood, the bruises, the cries, the deaths… Everything seemed to still be on his skin, vivid in his mind.
-"I don't know," he admitted.
-"You didn't break an arm, did you?"
-Kyle smiled at the memory.
-After a rough mission he had rushed to his flat ignoring the pain in his arm and the medics.
-Yet he ended up to E.R days later with a blue arm and broken bone.
-Y/n was one of the nurse who was in charge of him and his cast, they kept contact.
-"No, I don't know how I managed to cope without hearing from you."
-"Charming," they laughed at his attempt at flirting.
-"Maybe."
-"More seriously?"
-"Tired," he admitted.
-"I would tell you to sleep, but I imagine you don't want to."
-"I can't."
-Not when he knew the nightmares awaiting him.
-"…I finish at 1am, if ever. I'm not implying anything, I know your base is super far, but I know that company can help."
-"Hmm, I don't know, will there be food?"
-"My company isn't enough for you, Kyle?" they joked.
-"I fear not."
-"Damn," they exclaimed, laughing.
-Ah, there it was.
-A tender smile stretched across Gaz's lips.
- In this exchange, he found comfort, a precious connection.
-His body relaxed slightly.
-"I missed you," they confessed.
-"You too."
-"You know, I bought those awful biscuits you talked about so much, hoping you'd come eat them at my place."
-"I'll take it as a declaration at this rate."
-"Shut up, I know you'd never buy them because 'no time'."
-"I like speed."
-"Even in bed?"
-A mischievous smile formed on his lips.
-"That's for you to find out."
-"You always say that."
-"I mean it."
-"About?"
-"Us."
-"Kyle…"
-"I know, after eight months of absence, it might just be the longing speaking, but… the only thing I wanted was you. Coming back to you, holding you in my arms, making you laugh one last time. And… staying friends… it's worse."
-"Worse than eight months without me?" -"Yes."
-"You're horrible for doing this."
-"I know."
-"At a distance, over the phone. I can't… I can't guess anything."
-"I guess I'm a coward."
-"Shut up, I… I swear I'm going to hit you and then kiss you."
-"Kiss me?"
-"Of course, do you really think I answer all your calls at any time out of friendship?"
-"Y/N…"
-"Last time there was an eight-hour time difference."
-"You told me…"
-"That there were only two, yes, because… I didn't want you to worry. You're a stubborn idiot always thinking of others, so I wanted to be selfish for once that you are."
-"I am. I want you, Y/n."
-"Then come get me."
-Kyle smiled and hung up.
- In his car, stress, fear, adrenaline surged. But for once, the enemy wasn't to be fought.
-Once in front of the hospital, hours of driving later, he stood at the entrance and saw them come out.
-Their name spoken from their lips, and he embraced them.
-"Never again," they whispered.
-"I can't promise anything, but I'll try."
-"I swear I'll kick Price's ass if he does that again."
-"I'll help you."
-"Promise?"
-"Promise."
-And he kissed them.
-Suddenly the eight long months evaporated on Y/n's couch, his fingers sliding through their hair, and his lips on theirs.
-The silence returned and Kyle could finally breathe.
If you want more : my masterlist
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formulafics · 11 months ago
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Hi, love your fics!! ❤️❤️ Could I request a charles x reader? One where she's also a driver (your choice which team) and she's from Poland and their flags just look like 🇵🇱🇲🇨 and it's like a "funny" coincidence to the fans or something, maybe it's a charles and y/n thing to always point out how similar their flags are
★ IF YOU CANT BEAT ‘EM, JOIN ‘EM | CL16
Scenario: time and time again, your flag gets mixed up with your boyfriends’, and vice versa. this time around, something a little more interesting than just a mixed up flag happens.
Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader (mclaren driver)
A/N: i’m so sorry this has taken me so long to get to! thank you so much for your patience 🫶🏻 this is actually such a cute idea, i love it. i hope you enjoy the fic! <3 ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST CHARLES FIC ‼️WHO CHEERED?
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charles_leclerc
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liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, f1, yn_ln, and 1,360,155 others
charles_leclerc good to be back on the podium…even with the flag mishap. i wouldn’t want it to be any flag but @/yn_ln’s.
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yn_ln i could say the same for your flag. congrats on p2 baby you deserve it! 🥰
scuderiaferrari if you can’t beat them join them. right @/yn_ln ?
⤷ yn_ln 👀
⤷ rizzciardo hey so what does this mean lol
landonorris get a room
⤷ yn_ln bet 🤭
leclercnorrisrussel WE CAN BE WORLD CHAMPION I SAID
lovelyleclerc yk its a good day when yn and charles are on the podium together
lovelyleclerc WAIT A MINUTE WTF DO YOU MEAN FERRARI
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yn_leclerc
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liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, alex_albon, georgerussel63, and 864,562 others
yn_leclerc (accidentally) took his flag, joined his team, and now taking his name. 🤭❤️
thanks lando for taking the pictures 🫶🏻
view all 9,652 comments
charles_leclerc through sickness, health, and mixed flags 😂
⤷ yn_leclerc forever and always baby ❤️
landonorris thank god i don’t have to spend another year with you
⤷ yn_leclerc just bc we aren’t gonna be teammates doesn’t mean we aren’t friends 🤨 you’re not getting rid of me that easily mister. also i gave you photo credits i expect you to be nicer
pierregasly congratulations ❤️ love you guys
maxverstappen1 💙
georgerussel63 congrats guys 💙
carmenmundt so happy for you both! congratulations, mr and mrs. leclerc! ❤️
paularon_ @/arthur_leclerc can be the flower child at the wedding!
lovelyleclerc SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP ARE YOU SO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW
ferraricharles BABE WAKE UP YN AND CHARLES ARE ENGAGED
stardustf1 serving parents more than ever with this one
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yn_leclerc and scuderiaferrari
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liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon, f1, paularon_, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, and 876,542 others
yn_leclerc a wise man once said “if you can’t beat them, join them” and join them i did. 🤭 can’t wait to see what the 2024 season brings!
view all 7,672 comments
charles_leclerc i love you ❤️ can’t wait
⤷ yn_leclerc i love you more
oscarpiastri thank you for the seat
⤷ yn_leclerc your welcome pls take care of lando
⤷ thumbsuplando CRYING I ALREADY MISS YN AND LANDO SO BADLY
scuderiaferrari happy to have you! 🥰
lovelyleclerc everytime i get the notif that you post, i go insane. i just wanted you to know that!
norrisnation i’m gonna miss you in mclaren but im so happy for you 😭🧡
ynsnumberone MOTHER
⤷ rizzciardo it truly isn’t a yn post if there isn’t someone in the comments calling her mother
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thank you for reading! all feedback is appreciated! — dae <3
💌 | @renarots @jsjcue @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @treehouse-mouse @minkyungseokie @lokietro @spidersophie @arkhammaid @vellicora @stopeatread @motorsp0rt @leclercvsx @cixrosie @piasstrisblog @vroomvroomverstappen @harrysdimple05 @sadieurlady @fastcarsandshit @kortneej81 @i-love-ptv @pretty-little-bunny382728 @elliegrey2803 @yagirlhayes
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at4zxx · 3 months ago
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Queen of ❤️s (angst)
Teen!BridgetHearts x reader.
( older Bridget x older reader?)
Genre: fluff-ish to angst💥
warning: readers death, before Red time travels. (Red is a little girl in this plot) , I DIDNT PROOF READ IT.
It’s badly written because I only had 2 hours of sleep :3
Summary: Bridget having a dream about her life as a teen once more. Wanting one more night with the reader, until waking up..
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it felt the same. It looked the same.. it was her, it was you.
if this was a dream, I don’t ever want it to end. I want you to stay, stay with me.
Hand in hand, both Y/N and Bridget went back to Bridget’s dorm. A big smile on Bridget’s face as she pulls Y/N into the bed, hugging her tightly.
“You were gone forever!” Bridget whines jokingly, burying her face into the side of your shoulder.
All you could do was smile, pulling her close.
“Pinks, I was only gone for 2 hours, you know I had tourney.”
“I understand that, but why did you leave so soon? You should’ve said goodbye.”
“I was in a rush! Coach wanted me on the field ASAP. But Hey, you have me now. Is that better??”
Bridget thinks, yeah. It was better than you not being back at all. She nods.
“Yeah, it’s better than you not being back at all.”
Y/N sighs, kissing her on the forehead.
“I love you my dear.”
“I love you too darling, you won’t ever leave me, right?”
bringing Bridget’s hands up to your lips, gently pressing them against her palm.
“I promise.”
————
The sunlight shun down on Bridget’s eyes throw the windows. It was another reminder.. that you weren’t here anymore.
you were dead.
Why couldn’t you just stay alive a little bit longer.
if only she knew how sick you were.. maybe, just maybe..
you would still be here.
The door opens, it was one of the guards.
“good morning your majesty- duties awaits.” They hesitate. Obviously they were scared of the Queen of Hearts.
Bridget gives a firm nod, standing up with her red robe wrapped around her.
“Very well, I’ll see to it after I get ready.”
The guard nods, walking out of the room and closing the door shut behind them.
It felt like a blink of an eye and she was already in the corridor of the castle. Little Red following her, staying as quiet as a mouse.
As Bridget walked out to the backyard garden. She walked to a more private areas. Covered in beautiful colourful flowers. Despite the entire castle not allowed to have anything but the colour red.
“Mama, what does that say?” Red asks, gently tugging on her gown.
Bridget looked down at Red, before looking towards where she was looking.
the tombstone.
‘Y/N/N’
‘loving friend, sister, aunt, niece, and lover. You will forever be missed.’
“.. her name was Y/N, she was very close to your mother.” Bridget responds, grabbing the picture they took of you during senior photos. It was the only photo she had of you after all..
“She’s pretty mama” red mumbles, looking over at the picture.
She nods in agreement.
“Yeah.”
“She is.. isn’t she.”
“You would’ve loved her my dear, I know she would’ve loved you.”
IM GOING BACK TO YELLOWJACKETS?? BRO WHAT THE HECK-⬇️⬇️ (courtney eaton is so AAA)
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works-of-fanfiction · 1 year ago
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Just a Lousy Racing Driver || Pierre Gasly x Reader
Summary: Pierre shows the reader just how little he cares about her mother’s opinions of him.
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: 18+ unprotected sex, swearing, some badly translated French.
a/n: I have been writing this for weeks on and off because I’ve been strangely busy! Pierre is sort of an entitled rich boy in this, but we can forgive him. I’m not the best at writing smut but I hope you enjoy this regardless.
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“My Mum hates you.”
“Good.” Pierre smirked, his hand wandering from your waist to your neck. Your back arched against the wall as you revelled beneath his touch, feeling his warm fingers lightly grip at your skin. He could feel your quickening pulse under his thumb which only encouraged him further. “What else did she say?”
His grip tightened on your neck as his spare hand pushed your hip harder against the wall. You gasped, his fingertips skimming your ear. “What did she say?” He repeated, running his thumb over your bottom lip. Your eyes fluttered closed momentarily as you struggled to gather your thoughts.
“That you’re a lousy racing driver – “
“And?” He leaned into you, pressing a lingering kiss to the skin just below your jaw.
“You don’t deserve the money you make.”
His laughter vibrated against you, making you squirm and clutch tighter onto his shirt. His mouth latched back onto your neck, kissing and sucking to leave a flurry of little red marks.
“The money I use to take care of her daughter?”
You could hear the smile in his voice as he pushed his knee between yours to separate your legs. You resisted the urge to jump up and wrap them around him, as you chose to savour every second he spent pressed against you, his hands and mouth exploring your body.
If any other man said that to you, you’d probably push him away and give him an earful for being obnoxious, but the terms were different with Pierre. Since your very first date, he’d completely spoiled you, showering you with gifts and surprising you with romantic gestures. He always made sure you had exactly what you wanted, as well as needed, and never let his girl miss out on anything. You weren’t exactly materialistic, but he insisted on pampering you and treating you to anything you desired, so how could you refuse?
Pierre’s pursuit of you wasn’t an easy one. He tried for months to get you to agree to a date, but you were stubborn to say the least. You’d heard of his reputation, and you had to be sure you’d be more than just another escapade before you finally said yes. He tried to charm you with the idea of lavish dates and expensive vacations, but you assured him you couldn’t be bought. You played hard to get which drove him crazy and only made him want you ten times more.
The truth is, Pierre was trouble; trouble you weren’t sure you could handle at first. You had the type of friends and family who’d always guessed your type from a mile away, but Pierre didn’t fit into the norm. He was a cheeky, charismatic F1 driver whose face was all over the media every other weekend. He was the kind of guy who only taught you the bad words in his language, so he could whisper them in your ear before each race and leave your mind reeling for Lord knows how many laps. As your mother had put it, he was bad news.
Pierre’s jeans rubbed against your thigh, the friction burning your skin and making your knees feel as if they could cave in. He released his grip on your neck, only to bury that hand in your hair and tug at the roots. “I suppose, for the sake of your reputation with your family, we shouldn’t be together.” He purred against your cheek, his stubble scratching you and hot breath fanning your ear.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t.” You spoke, finding the confidence to bring your hand up to his hair, pulling his head back so he’d face you. “But, how could you possibly risk losing me?” You leaned forward, ghosting your lips over his. He tried to steal a kiss but you moved back too fast, smiling at him.
“You are such a fucking tease.” Pierre groaned, enjoying the feeling of your fingernails against his scalp. He’d grown accustomed to having your hands in his hair, whether it was during cosy nights on the couch in front of the fire, or humid nights in hotels around the world with his face buried between your thighs. You certainly couldn’t deny your love of the latter.
Pierre overpowered you once again, grabbing the hand from his hair and pinning it above your head. He held it there with his left hand, gripping your wrist and pressing it against the wall. You wriggled beneath him, mostly on purpose to see how he’d react. You liked it when he was rough with you, restraining you and touching you wherever he pleased. Every piece of you belonged to him and you loved being able to satisfy his every need. He responded just how you liked, gripping harder and pushing himself as close to you as possible. You smiled, earning a knowing look from the Frenchman. “What do you want?” He asked, his free hand cupping your cheek softly, a stark contrast to his fingertips digging into your wrist above your head.
“J'ai envie de toi.” I want you. You whispered as he lifted your chin with his thumb, his gaze meeting yours.
“Hm? You have to speak louder, mon amour.”
Pierre liked to tease and make you beg, and you both loved and hated him for it. All you wanted was to throw yourself forward and kiss him, but his firm grip kept you from moving. Even so much as a twitch made him hold on tighter and raise a brow at you as if to question why you were challenging him. He was often in control, but was always focused on your pleasure before his own. The two of you had once spent an entire morning in bed, Pierre giving you a string of orgasms with his mouth and fingers until you physically couldn’t take it anymore. He’d carried you to the bathtub and washed you afterwards, your body feeling limp and admittedly rather sore. He took care of you like you were the most fragile thing on this Earth, and held you as you drifted back to sleep in his arms, still wrapped in your towel.
“J'ai vraiment envie de toi.” I want you so bad. You spoke up, Pierre’s lips hovering over yours. A smirk spread across his face, as he reached down with both hands to grab your hips.
“That’s better.” He turned you around, pressing you against the wall. Your cheek was cold against the wallpaper, but you barely noticed as Pierre’s hands hiked up your dress, leaving it bunched around your waist. “Shall I take my time with you? Or are you ready for me now?” He slipped his right hand between your thighs, two fingers immediately finding your clit through your underwear. Your body jolted forward and you tried to support yourself with your hands on the wall. Pierre let out a chuckle behind you, his left hand smoothing out your hair. “Do you want me, baby?”
“How many times are you going to make me say it?” You whined, desperate for him to touch you more and not just through your clothes. For a moment he considered teasing you a little longer, but he himself could not deal with the anticipation. Soon his jeans were around his ankles, and he palmed at his hard, aching cock through his boxers, his other hand clumsily tugging at your underwear. You reached down to help, but he grabbed your wrist and pushed your hand away.
“Leave them on.” He demanded, looking down at the thin baby blue lace he’d grown to love. You couldn’t remember exactly why they had become his favourites, but you took immense pleasure in wearing them beneath skirts and giving him a sneak peek in places you shouldn’t. You knew exactly how tonight was going to end when you crossed your legs with exaggeration at dinner, parting them just enough so he could catch a glimpse of the blue he loved so much. Pierre had to resist every urge to clear the table right there and bend you over it. He’d enjoyed the mental image of your body pressed against the wooden tabletop, your hair splayed out and sticking to your cheeks as he pounded into you, making the table legs shake as well as yours. He only wished the hotel room had a table just like it so he could act out his fantasy.
Pierre leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your upper arm. “Leave them on whilst I fuck you.” He whispered, pushing them to the side so he could get a better look at you. Your skin was flushed and slick with arousal, the sight making his cock twitch impatiently. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He said in awe, his middle finger teasing your wet cunt. His touch was needy, but still gentle. Your moans bounced off of the wall, echoing around the room and bringing music to Pierre’s ears. He loved the sound of you, whimpering and moaning for him to touch you, to claim you, to fuck you so hard you saw stars.
Pushing his underwear down, you felt his cock spring free and press against your ass. You whimpered, grinding your hips backwards to get more friction and to give your boyfriend a bit of a show. He looked down, his breath caught in his throat as he watched your hips draw circles against him. He loved that you weren’t shy, and you enjoyed this just as much as he did.
“This is what you want, hm?” He asked, wrapping his hand around his cock and pressing against you harder. You nodded, arching your back forward to encourage him.
“Don’t make me wait any longer.” You purred, reaching behind and ghosting your fingers over his shaft. Pierre’s eyes fluttered closed, the soft touch sending a cold rush throughout his entire body. He did as you asked, grabbing both your hands and pushing them firmly against the wall so he could get you into the perfect position. An excitable giggle escaped you, and he smiled as he dug his fingers into your hips and teased your eager pussy with the head of his cock.
He couldn’t wait a moment longer as he slowly pushed himself inside of you, his size stretching you out and filling you up. Your hands slipped down the wall, but he was quick to reach forward and grab you. Pierre linked his fingers with yours, carefully thrusting into you as you got used to the feeling. You closed your eyes and hummed in pleasure, the two of you making the same sound in unison. “You feel incredible.” He whispered, kissing your hair. You loved the mixture of rough versus gentle Pierre. It was no secret that the man knew how to fuck and have you screaming his name, but he also knew how to caress you, talk you through it, and make sure you were comfortable throughout. His soft kisses and careful words made your heart sing, and you swore you couldn’t love him more if you tried, yet you were proven wrong every day.
He kissed you again, a moan disappearing into your hair as he bottomed out inside of you. You gasped, feeling his hot skin against your ass before he drew back to then push straight back into you again. His hands latched back onto your hips, pulling you onto his cock as his movements grew faster. He looked down to watch, to see you wrapped around him so tightly, leaving his cock wet and glistening. You didn’t even have to see him to know he was enjoying the view, his fingertips digging harder into your skin as he grunted with every buck of his hips.
Pressing your hands firmly against the wall, you drove yourself up to stand straighter, reaching back to wrap your arm around his neck. His mouth immediately connected with the skin behind your ear, gentle kisses contrasting with the passionate, deep thrusts that had your heart racing and sweat pooling between your thighs. You gripped onto the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging lightly to encourage him. “Are you trying to be rough with me, baby?” He teased, his tone mocking yet in the sexiest way. “Because I can be rough if you want me to.”
Pulling away, you turned around to face him. Your faces were both flushed with desire for one another, and Pierre’s white shirt was slick with sweat. You started working on the buttons, your fingers trembling as you were well aware of him gazing down at you. He watched your hands, those dainty manicured fingers undressing him like they had hundreds of times before. He’d never get tired of surrendering to you and your touch, feeling your fingertips brush against his chest as you made your way down button by button. Since the very first time you’d offered to unbutton his shirt, he’d come to prefer it. To him, there was nothing sexier than watching you take your time with him, exposing as much of him as you wanted and studying his body with those pretty eyes of yours. He loved belonging to you, just as much as you loved belonging to him.
Finishing with the last button, you grabbed both sides of the shirt and pulled Pierre closer, standing on your tiptoes to reach his face. “Show me what you can do.” You whispered, earning a groan from your partner as he pulled off his shirt and guided the two of you towards the bed. As you walked backwards, you unzipped your dress and left it on the ground, and Pierre shook off the pants that were still wrapped around his ankles.
The backs of your legs hit the bed frame and you tumbled back, head landing on the mattress. Pierre grabbed your legs, hoisting them onto the bed in front of him, finally slipping the blue lace off of you. The sight of you with your legs spread and gaze fixed upon him drove him crazy, and he found it almost impossible to decide what to do with you first. Climbing onto the bed, he wasted no time plunging inside of you once more, making you gasp and your body twinge at the delicious pain of your pussy stretching around him. You wrapped your legs around him, using your feet to pull him closer and feel more of him. Pierre moaned, gripping your ankles and placing them on his shoulders.
He gave you a look as if to ask for permission and you nodded quickly, linking your ankles behind his head. He rolled his hips forward, his cock hitting you at a deeper angle. You tried to stay focused on his face, but you couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing your eyes shut as his thrusts quickened. Each of your staggered breaths overlapped one another as Pierre leaned down to connect his lips with yours. You opened your mouth for him, his tongue hot and desperate against yours as the sounds of your skin slapping together grew louder. With both hands on either side of your head, Pierre hovered over you, his thrusts slowing but growing more aggressive, the tip of his dick hitting that sweet spot inside of you every time. Your hands roamed his body as well as your own, every slither of skin scorching hot to the touch. He watched as your right hand edged towards the bottom of your stomach, fingertips toying with the idea of exploring further.
Lifting your hand to his mouth, he sucked on your middle and forefinger, running his tongue along the front of them. He released them with a quiet popping sound, and you admired how his saliva moistened your fingers. “Touch yourself, baby.” He coaxed, his hands returning to their former position. You followed his order as he dropped your legs back down to his sides so you could spread them more. You slipped your fingers between your folds, your body twitching at the first touch of your clit. You were sensitive, swollen, desperate for friction. Drawing circles, you moaned loudly as Pierre attempted to match your rhythm.
You threw your head back, eyes gazing at the ceiling as he continued to pound into you, his lower stomach clashing with the back of your hand. “That’s it, Y/N. Keep going.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your knee. You couldn’t find the words to tell him how good it felt, but he already knew. He could tell by the way your cunt clenched around him. It was almost like he could feel your pulse beating against his cock.
“Pierre, I - “ You stammered, forcing your head forward to look at him. He could see it in your eyes, how close you were. Your fingers moved quicker as his thrusts grew shallow, while remaining the same speed.
“Keep those eyes on me. I want to see you when you come.”
You used to feel nervous having Pierre staring down at you as you touched yourself. Something about it made you feel more exposed than anything else, and you’d often close your eyes or look down at your own hand to distract yourself. But that didn’t bother you now. You fixed your gaze on him, rarely blinking as you rubbed your clit quicker, applying more pressure with your fingertips, growing closer and closer. His name exploded from your mouth as you came, legs shaking and toes driving into the sheets below. Once your hand was out of the way, Pierre leaned down, his chest pressing against yours as he kissed every inch of your face and neck. With one hand cupping your face, and the other gripping your hip, he buried himself inside you and groaned as he came, his entire body stiffening then collapsing on top of you.
He pulled out and moved to the side so you could go clean up if you wanted, but you stayed put. A warmth dripped out of you and down your inner thigh, and you smiled at the feeling. Silently, with nothing but the sounds of your breathing in the room, you took Pierre’s hand and pressed it between your legs, letting him feel his own cum spill out of you. He made a sound that confirmed his agreement, that he thought it was just as hot as you did. The two of you laid there as you caught your breath, before turning to face each other. His face was flushed and pupils dilated, and you were pretty sure you probably looked the same.
“Je t’aime. No matter what.” Pierre whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I love you too. No matter what.”
“Even if your Mum hates me?” He raised his brows, making you giggle.
“Oh especially if my Mum hates you.”
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crusty-chronicles · 11 months ago
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Just Friends
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An: Dropping this one before I watch the first episode of the live action today!!!!! Hope y'all enjoy.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" You chastised the red headed demon as you plucked another vine from his arm. Making sure to go over the injury with alcohol before wrapping it.
"Is that so?"
You met his amused expression with a glare. How this man could be so unfazed by a literal plant growing out of him, you'd never know. How he still found the energy to be cheeky was a mystery as well.
Although you knew it wasn't entirely his fault he was this injured. That damn tournament committee was partial to blame. Sabotaging Urameshi and his friends for no other reason than them being human. Betting money was another factor. Still, if Kurama hadn't been so cocky with the first demon, he wouldn't have been through hell after.
"Absolutely. You should've never fought twice in a row. Now look at you." You gestured towards the many open wounds on his chest.
"You're covered in blood. You're so damn lucky I'm studying to be a doctor." You dabbed more alcohol than you should've on a cotton ball before cleaning the scratches on his face.
A feeling of smugness when he let out a slight hiss.
"It hurts? Good. Maybe next time you'll learn to be more careful."
It was quite the sight to see. Kurama sitting obediently while you tended to his wounds. Letting you scold him without much complaint or push back. Kurama, a demon who'd lived hundreds of years with unfathomable knowledge, allowed you to call him stupid.
The most independent and arguably the most reserved, getting chewed out by a mere human.
It was funny, too. How he seemed to subtly lean into your touch. Closing his eyes while you wiped his face and releasing a content sigh when you finished. As if he were being pampered.
"You know I got injured pretty badly too. Maybe you should come clean my injuries." Yusuke called out. Though it was mostly meant to tease the fox demon.
You turned to face him at the same time Kurama's gaze hardened. A warning look directed at the spirit detective. But he could tell it wasn't really needed as you dismissed his offer.
"What am I the team doctor? I can't do all that 'magic power' stuff to heal what you've got going on." You gestured to the various brusing littered across Yusuke's body.
"You're best bet is Yukina."
"But you've got a delicate touch."
At his flirty tone you shot up from the bed and proceeded to chase him.
"I'll show you delicate!"
Kurama watched you go with a disappointed look. Missing your warmth besides him. Although he wasn't too happy with you being here, he couldn't deny being glad to have your familiar presence near him.
He had wanted to keep you far away from this. From his past that unfortunately intertwined with his present. Trying his best not to expose you to what he really was. A small part of him was still angry at Botan for bringing you here. But then again, she'd brought a prominent figure in each of his friends' lives as well. So he wasn't the only one dealing with this. He'd rather it be you than his mother wondering where he was.
Still, you were human. And a troublesome one at that. It was surprising you hadn't gotten in a brawl with a demon yet. Especially ones that were openly cheering for his demise.
You'd always been a bit protective of him. Having met as children when you defended him from being bullied for his fiery hair and oddly green eyes. Yelling and biting at the other kids until they left. Only to turn around and tell him he was gonna be your best friend from now on.
Something he thought was odd at the time. A human telling him what to do? Then again, he wasn't all that different from you in his new body. And he needed to be able to keep up appearances until he fully regained his powers. So he accepted and let you drag him where you pleased. He let you ramble about everything and nothing at the same time. He let you comfort him when his mother fell ill.
He grew to love having you in his life. Your lectures about how he shouldn't let others taunt him, even if he was fully capable of protecting himself. Though of course you didn't know that. He admired your ambition to enter the medical field so you could help the people who needed it. He looked forward to seeing your soft side that you'd only show to him after a long day.
You'd made him feel human.
Which is why he tried so hard to hide everything about his previous life from you. If you found out you'd most likely be scared or put in even more danger.
And he just couldn't risk losing you either way.
He tried cutting ties with you once, but you were a stubborn one. After what happened with Maya, he thought it was best you kept out of his life. Going as far as avoiding you. To which you responded by confronting him.
"If you don't want to be friends anymore, just tell me. Give me a straight answer instead of acting like a coward."
He was close to telling you he didn't want you around anymore, but the way you looked at him, with so much hurt and betrayal...He just couldn't find it in himself to let you go. Instead he asked you why. Why you didn't find him strange like the rest of your classmates. Why you spent so much time with him. Why it bothered you so much that he was ignoring you.
"Is that really what's bothering you? The answer should be obvious to a brainiac like you. You're important to me, Shuichi."
He realized then that you were important to him, too.
So he allowed himself to keep you around. He deserved that much for everything he's been through. Just so long as you were a part of his human life and not his demon one.
But fate had a funny way of playing things out. He should've known he couldn't keep this part of his life a secret from you forever. He just didn't expect it so suddenly.
Hearing your voice above the others shouting at him from the stands. He thought he might've been imagining it at first, but then he caught a glimpse of you from over the other demon's shoulder. The one that had threatened his mother's life with a push of a button.
He could see that you were nervous. Frustrated would have been a better word. As if you were mad he was letting himself get hurt.
You'd called him an idiot then too, after he won. Jumping down from the stadium and rushing over. Unfazed by the bloodthirsty creatures around you.
"You're such a dumbass. Making a big show out of nothing and letting that guy cut up your face. Let me see how bad it is." You scolded as you grabbed his chin and moved his head around. Inspecting the fresh slashes on his cheek.
"You're here?" He asked, still processing the fact that you were right in front of him. That somehow you managed to find your way back to him.
"Yes??? I don't think he hit you hard enough to have a concussion."
Kurama had to step away from you. All of a sudden overwhelmed because there was no way you were inspecting his injury right now. There was no way you were still treating him like nothing happened. Like he didn't just kill someone right in front of you.
"Why?" It was the only thing he could think to ask. Rendered speechless for the first time in forever.
"Why what?"
"Why are you here? How much do you know?"
How much did that troublesome reaper tell you?
"I'm here because my stupid best friend decided to get himself into trouble without telling me. Did you really think I wouldn't worry about you being gone for weeks? That I wouldn't get suspicious?" You used the sleeve of your shirt to wipe the blood off his face.
"I didn't want you involved." Came his answer. He still didn't know how much you knew. If now was the time to be completely transparent.
"Then you shouldn't have agreed to be my friend. To be honest, I'm a little hurt you didn't even bother to tell me. Let me guess, you thought I would freak out if you told me you were a demon?"
Ah, so you knew everything. Which meant so did the rest of the girls with you. He wanted to be upset at Botan's lack of ability to keep secrets, but he couldn't have been any more relieved.
"You know me almost as good as myself. Though it's surprising you're taking this so well." He allowed himself to relax in your presence. To let you continue inspecting his minor injuries.
"You really think I would care after all we've been through? For someone who's supposedly hundreds of years old, you sure are an idiot Shuichi."
"Shuichi..." He didn't know why his name sounded so foreign coming from you. Maybe a part of him expected you to call him 'Kurama' now that you knew the truth. Or perhaps he just wasn't used to hearing it when he wasn't trying to keep up appearances.
"Yeah? Do you want me to use your tough guy demon name instead? Don't wanna be embarrassed in front of your friends?" Your tone was teasing. And while he would have loved to hear his true name come from your lips, he couldn't deny liking the idea of only you having the privilege to call him Shuichi.
"No. I like it when you use my human name instead. Whatever feels natural for you."
"Alright, but you better promise not to keep any more secrets from me."
He was still cautious with you around, but it was more for your safety than anything. Though he should've been more careful with himself, too. It'd only be more stressful to you the worse he got injured. Still he couldn't promise you that he'd come out completely unscathed.
"You let that human walk all over you like the detective with his woman."
The sound of Hiei's voice brought him back to the present. Hearing the amusement that came with it at Kurama's show of obedience with you. The way he let you get after him for being careless.
"True they have a rather loud mouth, but it comes from a good place. I don't mind all that much, not when they've gone out of their way to mend my injuries. Or would you rather I go to Yukina instead?" A small jest that was made to get the three eyed demon off his back.
But Hiei knew what he was doing and wouldn't be taking the bait this time. Not when he knew he had the upper hand in this conversation.
"You'd give me the opportunity to steal your precious mate while you were distracted?" And judging by Kurama's small glare, he was right.
"... We're just friends." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. And in a sense he was. He'd never really thought of you in that light. At least, not until recently.
"Hmm." A unimpressed noise before you stumbled in.
Smiling triumphantly after having just tousled with Yusuke and an unfortunate Kuwabara who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The grin wiped off your face seeing Kurama up and about.
"Hey! Did I say you could get up and walk?!? You've lost way too much blood to be moving around! Get your ass back to bed right now!"
"I heal at a much faster rate, remember. I should be just fine." He tried to diffuse, but you weren't having it.
"You're not getting out of this one fox boy. Go lie down or so help me Shuichi, I'll knock you out myself!"
Again you'd used his human name. Who you knew him as. And despite your crude words, he could feel his heart skip a few beats.
Friends made each other's hearts beat a little faster, right?
They sometimes shared kisses with each other during a moment of celebration.
And sometimes, maybe sometimes they thought about what life would be like to wake up next to the other every morning.
"Stay with me and I won't move a muscle."
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sturniolo-rat · 8 months ago
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Tattoos and Massages Part 1
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Christopher Sturniolo X Reader
Part 2
A/N: My first work “A Very Matt Morning” is doing really well and so is my Nick NSFW ABC post so I thought I would treat the Chris girlies today😌
Contains: sugar daddy!chris🤑, fluff💕
TW: mentions of having absolutely $0
In which Chris lotions up y/n’s back tattoo and it turns into a happy ending massage.
It’s Friday night, and Y/N is on her way to the house her boyfriend Chris shares with his two brothers. As a nanny for a lower-middle-class family with a two-year-old girl, Y/N makes just enough money to survive. She absolutely loves her job and little Juno, but Jesus Christ, she’s doing a lot of work. Y/N desperately needs a fun, childless weekend with her boyfriend. 
She knocks on the front door three times because people who ring doorbells are weird, and she is greeted by no one other than Matt Sturniolo. “What’s up, Y/N”
“Nothing much, man. Just looking to spend the weekend with my boyfriend.”
“Come on in, then. You know the way.” He gestures inside the house and then towards Chris’s room. 
Y/N doesn’t bother knocking and enters the room in a hurry to find and hug Chris. Their eyes meet, and she crashes into him with a strong embrace. “Oof, that’s a big hug, Mamas,” he says with a groan.
“Mhmm, missed you.” is all she says with her face buried in his chest. They hug for a long time, and Chris realizes they’re not really hugging; it’s more like he’s holding her as she lets go of the past week's stress. 
“I know you had a hard week. Was Juno a terror today, too?” he asks.
“No, I’m just worried about money, is all. They’re taking Juno on a trip, so I’ll be out of work for the next two weeks.” She hugs him harder, and he rubs her back softly.
“You’re alright, Baby, I’ve got ya.” 
They spend the rest of the night cuddling and bingeing “The Bear” on Hulu. She notices he has Hulu Plus the one without the commercials and she feels a twinge of sadness that she’s never had money to spend on luxuries like that. The show however is very good, and they watch until they fall asleep. 
Saturday morning, Chris makes sure to wake up before Y/N. Slowly rolling her head off of his chest he sneaks out of bed and heads to the kitchen to cook her breakfast. He knows she works hard for everything she has and he wants to show her that his love is something she doesn’t have to work for. He will always give it willingly; for her, it is the easiest thing to attain. She will never have to worry about money for as long as his heart beats. It perplexes him that she doesn’t know that. He will show her, but first, he has to start a perfect day of relaxation with breakfast in bed. She wakes to the sound of the smoke alarm and the smell of burnt bacon. “Fuck! Fuck! Guys, I’m sorry!” Chris shouts across the house. Y/N tosses the blanket to the side, but she hears the boys before her foot even touches the ground. 
“What the fuck!” Nick yells in the way he does. 
Matt comes out with a “Jesus fucking Christ! Turn it off!” 
Y/N wants absolutely no part in whatever’s going on. She reaches over to her airpods on the bedside table, puts them in, and turns on noise-canceling mode. Then she pulls her blankie back over herself. She really can’t be bothered with that mess.
The alarm turns off a few minutes later, and Chris enters the room cringing holding a plate of bacon, eggs, and pancakes… all burnt. She removes her airpods. “I made this for you.” he gives a sheepish smile. 
She tries to hold back a giggle “Oh, Babyboy, you shouldn’t have.” He sets the plate beside the bed and curls onto her lap. Y/N strokes his hair. “No, Boobie, don’t be sad I love love love the gesture!” She cups his face in her hands and brings his head up for a kiss on the nose. Chris takes pleasure in how delicate she is with him. Moments like this remind him why she works in childcare. She’s a nanny now but was born to be a mother. He wants so badly to one day help her become one. 
“You know what? It’s fine.” He pops up as hyper as ever. That’s Chris for you…actually, that’s ADHD for you, but it is what it is. “Because…” he says in a sing-song voice, “I have a very big day planned.” He proceeds to walk around the room gathering clothes for Y/N to put on, throws them at her, and says, “We’re taking a trip!” with the biggest smile she’s ever seen.
About 20 minutes later everybody is dressed, and an Uber is outside because he’s a silly ass who can't drive. “Where exactly are we going?” Y/N asks as they step into the car.
“That, my dear, would be a secret.” 
“Oh god. I hate surprises!”
“Well, technically, we’re not going to surprise you right now. I got excited and forgot that they were not open this early,” he admits, a bit embarrassed. 
“My question still stands. Where. Are. We. Going.”
He holds her hand to his mouth and kisses her knuckles “You and I are going shopping.” he pauses “Also you literally love surprises. So, shut up.”
She pulls her hand away upset. “You know I don’t have any…” he puts his hand over her mouth to silence her.
“And I don’t care because I am buying you everything.” 
She tries to refuse and talk him out of it the whole car ride, but he insists. They arrive at this Rodeo Drive-esque place, and Y/N is amazed at all of the fancy stores. Chris drags her into everyone he sees and physically has to force her to pick one thing for him to buy. After about the ninth store, she starts to have fun with it. By 2 pm she has a billion bags filled with everything she could possibly want and wants to head home. 
“Nope! Surprise is just down there.” He points to a tattoo shop across the street.
Y/N’s eyes widen, and she lets out a little shriek: “We’re getting tattoos!” She starts clapping and jumping up and down. “I have always wanted to get a tattoo!”
“I know, Baby, I know.”
She decides to get a large rose tattooed down her spine. It hurt like a bitch, and it still does when they arrive home. It’s very pretty, but it’s also very much an open wound. An hour later they’re in Chris’s room, and she’s ready to take the wrap they used to cover the tattoo off her back and wash it with antibacterial soap. She takes her shirt off, and Chris can’t help but stare at her soft breasts her nipples pebbling in the cool air. “Come help! I can’t reach my back!”
“I’m on it.” He gets up to stand behind her and gently peels off the plastic wrap. Her back is covered in dried blood dyed black with ink. He runs his hands down her sides landing at her hips. “You need a shower, Darlin.” He smiles to himself and whispers in Y/N’s ear “Let me clean you up.”
Oof, sorry, lads, smutty part 2 tomorrow, just like last time.
Masterlist
Taglist
@emeraldgreenbeautiesstu
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orchidsangel · 1 year ago
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I BET ON LOSING (CHILI) DOGS [JASON TODD]
notes/cw - fluff, suggestive, wrote this bc jason canonically likes chili dogs, also mitski mother i am so sorry this is not at all what you had in mind when you wrote 'i bet on losing dogs', (pacing might be shit idk sorry guys, working on it i swear)
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“I’m not eating it.” You say, as your boyfriend reaches over the console, and hands you the paper bag containing your lunch before sliding into the driver's seat of the car and closing the door behind him. 
“Could you just not be stubborn for a second? Like seriously, it’s a chili dog.” 
He takes the bag out of your hand, and removes its contents, placing them carefully on the dashboard and discarding the bag.
The inside of the vehicle now smells like fast food, and you grab a couple of fries, stuffing them into your mouth before continuing on with your justification.
“I’m not being stubborn. I’m setting a boundary!” You exclaim, reaching for more and dipping them in your milkshake. “And besides, I plan on getting full off of these fries.” you say, holding up another couple waving them around before eating them.
You reach for another handful when he grabs the container and moves them over to his side of the car, “can’t get full if there's nothing to eat.”
“Jason…if you don’t-” 
You make a move to grab them, but he just places them further on his side of the dash, “A chili dog babe. A chili dog.” 
“I hate them.” You huff out in frustration, giving up on the fries and leaning back on the headrest, letting out a long groan.
“You’ve never had one.”
“No, but I hate chili and hot dogs so if one plus one equals two…” You grumble, “then it would make absolutely zero sense for me to even try it.”
“Would you just- one bite. Please?” He’s begging at this point, and the look on his face shows just how badly he wants it. “I bet you’ll love it.”
And the little lilt in his voice when he says that breaks down any “boundary” you might’ve had. 
Here’s your big bad crime lord boyfriend practically on his knees over this, pleading for you to just take one bite, and you’re supposed to say no?
“Fine.” 
A grin spreads on his face and he hands you one of the chili dogs he’s holding before grabbing a few napkins and distributing them between the two of you. 
“And if I don’t?” you say, examining the mess of meat, chili, and cheese.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t love it.”
“Then I’ll make it up to you.” He says before taking a bite.
“Make it up how?” 
“If I tell you, you’re gonna lie and say you don’t like it.”
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?”
“Would you just eat it already?” 
You pick up the chili dog and bring it to your mouth.
“Careful, it’s pretty big.” Jason says from beside you.
“Don’t worry, I’ve had a lot of experience putting big things in my mouth.” You say before biting down.
“Subtle.”
It’s an explosive mix of savory meat and spices, with hints of tangy sweetness. Not at all what you expected and not nearly as bad as you thought. The cheese and the onions on top compliment the flavors and when you’re done chewing you take another bite. 
“Good huh?”
You turn your head towards Jason who’s looking at you with smugness you’ve only ever seen him give Roy on your bi-weekly game nights.
You were enjoying the chili dog, and he knew it. 
Still, you couldn’t let him have that kind of satisfaction. “No, not really.”
“Uh huh.” He says reaching over the console and bringing his thumb to the corner of your mouth, wiping away some sauce that you must’ve missed when you were licking your lips.
You take another bite, and he gives you a look. “What? It’s not like I’m gonna waste it.” You scoff.
“Right.” He says before returning to his own.
And for a few minutes the two of you sit in a comfortable silence, chomping away at your respective meals and occasionally stealing fries from the other.
When you’re done, he takes the empty cardboard container and crumpled napkins from your lap, tossing them into the bag previously thrown to the backseat. 
“So, since I lost the bet…”
You hum happily at his admittance of defeat. 
“...I guess I have to make it up to you now.” he says, leaning over the center of the car.
“Glad you know.”
He closes the space between you and nuzzles his face into your neck. Feeling a warm tingle in your body, you close your eyes and crane your head upwards, allowing him more space as the nuzzling turns into soft open-mouthed kisses.
He nibbles the tender skin as he moves up and towards your ear, “Do you want me to run inside and grab another dog for you?” He whispers between bites, and the question catches you off guard.
“What, why?” You say, confusion lacing your words. 
He draws back a little, a familiar heat radiating off of him, “For later tonight, when I’m done making it up to you.”
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from-izzy · 7 months ago
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yesterday's petal | nct na jaemin
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“I see.” A petal of yesterday falls. “I’ll take care of them now.”
pairing » nct na jaemin x gn!reader (lmk if i missed anything!)​
trope/au » ​non-idol au!, established relationship au!
genre » angst! just full angst!, grief and longing, reader remembering all the good times spent with jaemin, hurt and hope to move on, boyfriend na jaemin who took care of you so well, and you who loved him as much as he loves you
word count, estimated reading time » 1628, ~6 mins
warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » major character death, grief and loss, sorry not proofread 😭
navi/masterlist!! 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'
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didn't think that my first nct story on this app would be this but...i needed this badly...
i am also getting back into nct! i might be able to go to dream's concert this year and i'm so excited! feel free to send me some nct content and help me catch up hehe
but other than that...
in a world where everyone seems to fit in so well and so easily...i hope that someday things will be better for me 🫂
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With the amount of times you hit the door frame against the overhanging bell of the shop, it’s no surprise that the older woman recognises you.
Usually, she greets her customers brightly, especially those who look nervous and overwhelmed by her overflowing love and care towards the flowers that she prides herself on. At first, it was like that for you too, but the brightness of it all only lasted a few milliseconds at most.
She’s not new to her job; no, she’s not. She’s been doing this for years, having been brought up to it by her mother who has heavily influenced her to decorate all kinds of events with the delicate being, bringing in colours from one corner of the room to the other. But she knew the second you walked in her door without having to take your hat, scarf or sunglasses off, that you’re different from any of the other customers.
She can sense it from far away: a heart that has stopped beating. Amidst the chaotic, busy world, where most of the time a pin cannot be heard even in the library, she can feel the dejected feeling that your heart clenches painfully and that it never begs to differ. She wonders if you’ve always been like this or if you change under a different circumstance. Did her shop remind you of something unpleasant? Was it making you remember a painful memory that you never want to revisit ever again? 
But you always kept coming back. If not every day, every second day. And this, without fail.
She wishes she had the courage to ask why the corners of your lips have never raised, why your hands are always limped by your side, swaying tirelessly beside your even tired heart. She wishes she could ask why your eyes are always so puffy and sometimes bloodshot when you bow to her as a greeting whenever you exit. And, she would always wonder the reason behind why you would pick up the same flowers every time. Again, with the number of times you visit, she wonders if you’re giving them away or if you just like to fill your room, and perhaps at this point house, just like her.
She never asks because of the way you held the stem of her flowers between your hands. It’s an interesting way to handle her art: you rest the bottom of the stem on your palm with your fingers curving up to make a little bowl while the fingers of your other hand are curled towards the centre of your palm, the little circle however always big enough that when you step over to the counter, the green stalk bounces around the circumference of the circle as you take your step towards her.
Just like every other day, you tapped your card on the machine and left after mouthing a ‘thank you’ when the affirmatory tick was displayed on the screen, a pair of curious eyes behind your slumped shoulders.
Your feet take you to the place that you go to every day, the navigation of getting there already deeply ingrained in you to even try and suppress. With each step, comes the setting of the city that you used to walk with your beloved boyfriend. So many memories are spent in every turn of the city, with every store being visited once whether it be a cafe or a baby clothing store. There was usually no purpose to your visits but the hand that held yours tightly made you remember that sometimes roaming around with no purpose brings the best moments in life. 
The scent of the ramen shop across the street makes you hold your breath for a second, not wanting to trigger the accompanying cilantro scent that your nose remembers. The whirring of the coffee machine that you just passed only makes the inside of your mouth dry, remembering the unhealthy shots of caffeine that your boyfriend would drink without a thought in mind. The uneven paths of the ground play with your balance but this time, Na Jaemin isn’t here to hold on to you or even playfully joke around with you to say that he will ‘never let you fall the same way you already fell for him now’.
God, you just want to experience them again.
The way your friends found their significant others while you mull over the fact that Jaemin has left and will never come back. Not in this life, at least. So many times you would pray that you’ll find someone else but even when another person has shown interest in you and you accepted their offer to take you out on a date, you find yourself only thinking of Jaemin endlessly. 
At first, you thought he cursed you. Just like how he would say he would if you ever woke him up from his after-school nap even though it was supposed to be a movie date at the cinemas. 
But now you know that you’re just not ready for the change that took away the only person who loves you and that you love back an infinite times more. You’re not ready to have another person holding you, kissing you and whispering sweet nothings to you no matter your mood. 
You just want Na Jaemin back.
“Hey…” You arrive at your destination, the glossy stone reflecting the sullen look on your face, hair messy both from the win and simply not caring about readjusting it back; that was supposed to be Jaemin’s thing after all. “How are you doing today?”
Your choice of clothing today is questionable: white shorts when you know that you will be sitting down on the ungrassed Earth. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop you because all you wanted after a tiring day of high school and trailing behind your friends who had their arms joined with the love of their life, is to just talk to Jaemin in a more eye-levelled state. 
The conversations are endless and you make sure not to leave the slightest bit of detail from the day. You try your hardest to be positive, knowing well that Jaemin will always like you that way but one of the reasons why you love him is because if you did cry, he would still love and care for you without judgement or doubt. And the realisation that you’ll never see those eyes that you have fallen in love and would get lost in sinks in again.
You sob. Cry. Weep. Bawl. 
You could scream. Yell. Shout.
And it’s killing you inside all the same.
“I’m so tired of being so lonely when there’s so many people around me, Nana.” Your chin rests on your folded knees to your chest, arms around your legs but hands still holding the flower the same as before. “I’m so tired of being jealous of my friends that they’re still making happy memories with their other person.” The tears stream down your face even more, gulping down your sorrows and pain.
You relish how the coldness of the wind numbed your cheek; at least you’re feeling something.
“I do believe that the time when everything will be better will come and I do believe that the more I understand my feelings, it will get better eventually,” you sniff and gasp out of air, “but I still wish that I didn’t have to rely on time. I wish that I didn’t have to delve in deep and go through all of this.”
His name engraved on the stone only made it harder for you to see anything, your tears blurring your surroundings and the wind only making you cry harder. You take in a shaky breath and though it was not satisfactory, you’re still thankful that it gave you a little more energy to get lost in the feeling of grief.
“I love you.” You repeat a few more times. “And I hope that someday, whenever I hear your name, only the good memories and things you taught me will replay in my head.”
Your fingers reach over to the curves and lines of his name and you smile remembering how his mother included you in the font and general typography, knowing how much the relationship that you both shared has always been a healthy one for both ends. You continue to run over the engraving more, moving your hand back and forth. You continue to blurt out your last few moments of the day along with your plans for the next twenty-four hours before you would rant to him again.
But like you said, time will eventually come and make it all better and currently, the heaviness in your chest is more bearable now. You jump up to your more stable feet, eyes on the flowers that cover the front side of the base. Slowly, you laid the new one between the ones from before. You stare at how it finds its place so easily despite being only introduced a few seconds ago, and you nod at how it may not be you anytime soon.
As you spare a final glance at the fresh flower on top of the one that you just gifted him yesterday, you note the peace that it’s finally been given, still and no longer twirling and swirling in the circle that you have made for it.
When you walk away, the flower looks at how you drag your feet across the soil, and the yesterday flower whispers, “They're still the same as yesterday.” A message that has continued and passed on from the very first one that you laid in hopes of Jaemin knowing that he’s never forgotten.
“I see.” A petal of yesterday falls. “I’ll take care of them now.”
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navi/masterlist!! 🤍 'especially to you...'
tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿 @sanaxo-o
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divinesolas · 1 year ago
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request: jacerys x maid!reader | reader has been working for them for a long while and jace has had a little crush on her since then. (also rhaenyra shipping them on the low would be so sweet)
tags: nontarg!reader, implied slightly older reader, mostly jacaerys pov, no use of y/n, not proofread, i think that's it?
w.c | 2.2k
a/n: i am back! so sorry for being inactive i am so happy to be able to write again i have missed you guys, getting through requests now, but it will probably take me awhile to get to the scream requests since im really unmotived to write for it but i missed writing for hotd so here you go, i hope you guys enjoy!
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the first time he had ever spotted you was when he was eight. you had been assigned to be helaena personal maid. he had been standing in the courtyard preparing for another sword fighting lesson. he notices out of the corner of his eye aegon lifting his head before aegon mumbled under his breath and curse as he shakes his head bring his head back down. jacaerys looks up to see heleana, knowing of the recent betrothal and aegons distaste at the idea of course he would have a reaction like that. his eyes drifted over to the girl standing besides helaena and he felt a sudden sensation of butterflies flow into his stomach.
Curiously he picks it up and opens, It feels wrong of me to do this. Princess Heleena just recently taught me how to write and the first thing I felt I needed to do was write something to you. I hope you do not laugh. I hope that while I express myself you find it in yourself to listen. My eyes always find their way towards you. I always find myself thinking about you. I feel too embarrassed to write more though my heart yearns too. Forgive me my prince. I shall hope we talk more. With all i have,
He finds himself tracing the sloppy signing of your name at the end of your letter. His head can't make sense of the words you say despite the fact he wants to so badly. He falls back onto his bed and reads over your words over and over again with a fond look on his face, already planning on what he was going to write back. The two of you begin to write more and more letters to each other. It was easier than speaking in person. Things that could not be uttered in person were said over word, the letters grew more and more personal. He felt like he was looking into your soul with every word as you must have felt as well. But then lady Leana had passed and he had to go to driftmark to the funeral though he was more upset about the passing of ser harwin. Before he had left for driftmark you had slipped a letter for him before he had left. He didn't have the energy to open it then, feeling too much grief to read your sweet words. A part of him is glad he didn't because he didn't realize that would be the last he would see of you for many years. They did not return to king's landing which means he did not get to see you. No more letters, no more passing glances, no more you. He stayed in his bed and cried for awhile, he remembers his mother coming in and trying to comfort him but nothing had worked. Even ten years later he still mourned you like you had died, he had managed to get over his sad slump but you still lingered in his mind like a disease he could not cure, an itch he couldn't scratch. He wondered if you thought of him like he had thought of you. Word had come that they had to go back to king's landing. With lucerys position as heir to driftmark being challenged they were expected to return for a trial. While he feels as though he should be sad, he should be angry. His heart leaps with hope that he gets to see the dear maiden that had stolen his heart. He had never opened up your letter from all those years ago, wanting to savor and save what could be your last words to him for a special occasion. He decided that now would be the time, as he sits on his bed with his stuff packed, only minutes until they were set to leave with shaking hands he rips open the letter.
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath he opens the letter and gasps. My prince, It broke my heart to find out you were leaving. I hope that you have not let your grief consume you, that you shall continue to be happy no matter what. He notices some large splotches of ink as if you had been pressing too hard against the paper in thought. I must tell you this though it is improper. When you return you will never speak to me again. You may never write to me again yet I must say this now. From the day we had locked eyes and my eyes saw you smile you hard earned the key to my heart. You are the chosen one. Hand selected as the owner to the place which you and only you will ever belong. I hope that you do not laugh. I hope that you are not repulsed or you are not hateful. From the day we met I have loved you and I shall think of you always for you are all I yearn for. I shall await your return. I know not how long you will be gone but I will be here, my sweet true love. I am but a low maiden yet you are everything to me as you must be to all. When you return you may choose to ignore this letter. I am more than willing to act as if this letter never existed, I will be the one to turn this letter myself if you wish. Just please, do not punish me by never speaking to me again for I fear my heart will never recover. With all my love, Yours.
The letter shakes vigorously in his hands as teardrops fall onto the page. He must see you. He gets up and rushes towards the yard where the rest of his family awaits where they are boarding to leave. With the letter clutched to his chest he runs through the halls, the only thought going through his mind being you. He carefully, or as carefully as he can with the adrenaline pumping through his veins and the nervous shaking of his hands, folds up the letter and stuffs it into his pocket before continuing to rush towards his dragon. An arm grabs him and he whips his head around ready to curse and scream at whoever it had been before his angry face softens. “My queen.” she cups his cheeks as she frantically looks him over. “Has something happened? Why are you crying, my son?”
He feels himself grow overrun with emotions as he stumbles, unable to answer. Instead he grabs the letter and presents it to her. “My.. she wrote to me.. Her letter I must.. I must..” he cannot find himself. He looks down at the ground as rhaenyra glances over the letter and looks at her son with a heartfelt look. “Do you love her, my boy?” his heart begins to hurt as he begins to think more and more about you as he nods. He lets out a strangled noise as he clutches his chest. “I must see her mother, I must.” He never calls her mother. rhaenyra feels herself overcome with an indescribable feeling as she lets him go. “We shall head out right this moment.” They do. He feels himself riding faster than he ever had. A part of him worries you will not be there. Maids are easily dismissed and rid of in kings landing so his heart hurts as he thinks he has missed you
. They arrive and he finds lucerys is stuck to his side. Despite the fact that all he wished to was run off to find you he knows he must take care of lucerys as well. Walking into the courtyard he's taken back to his childhood, with lucerys eyes locked onto the fight happening jacaerys finds his eyes looking around at the viewers watching from above the courtyard. Suddenly his eyes lock onto a very familiar set of eyes. Yours. You look as gorgeous as you did the day he had last shall you if not more. You were standing in the exact same place you were when he first saw you with a look of shock. He finds himself stumbling away from the crowd to get a better look at you as his heart pounds so loud his ears may begin to ring. You were here. Standing in front of him. He gulps and watches as you quickly rush towards the staircase down to the courtyard. His skin begins to burn as his legs begin to shake. Everything in his body telling him he should run to you. Bring you into his arms. Allow your skin to touch him. Suddenly you are standing in front of him, panting slightly while your eyes dart all over him with surprise. “My prince… you have returned.” He grabs one of your hands in a soft grip, he sees you inhale sharply as he brings your hand to his lips and places a kiss to the back of your hand. his lips burning as he aches to kiss your skin once more. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting, my love.” You gasp before a smile graces your lips and tears fill up in your eyes. “Truly?” He places yet another kiss onto your skin, “More than anything.”
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expectopatronum18 · 1 year ago
Text
Unpopular opinion but......
Am I the only one who misses the og marauders? The marauders fandom isn't even about the marauders now, 99% of their canon personality traits hv been replaced with cliqued behaviour. For some reason there's a massive obsession with their sexuality and I just don't get it? Lyk can't u have a character with any sexual orientation with personality traits outside it anymore? Does there really need to be a complete erasure of their most defining traits? I just wish we could get the actual marauders era characters back
James Potter: Pureblood, rich, intelligent, arrogant, a bully, but extremely loyal; took Sirius in and turned into an animagus for his werewolf bestie when the whole world would have shunned him; he could have led a life of utmost comfort but chose to risk his life and fight for those he loved in a war that didn't even concern him personally. His last words were asking his wife and child to escape while he tried to hold voldy off without a wand
Sirius Black: Haughty, a bully, extremely good looking, cool, rich, blood traitor by 16, comes from a family of literal death eaters, very intelligent, loyal, will do anything for those he loves( especially james and later Harry), thick as hell (my boy really survived in a depression prison for 12yrs, tht too after all the horror he'd seen before that), dark, very traumatized and broken
Remus Lupin: Gentle (yup u read that right), kind, mischievous (ppl really overlook this), very insecure, let james and Sirius bully Snape coz he was too thankful for their acceptance and affection to tell them off, considered himself undeserving of love, his self loathing prevents him from being a responsible adult/ parent for Harry, lowkey manipulative. Very compassionate and empathetic even after everything he's been thru tho
Peter Pettigrew: Considered slow and stupid, insecure, tags along with the others for protection, but obviously cunning and manipulative, a disgusting rat tho
Regulus Black: Teenage Reggie worshipped death eaters, he had newspaper clippings of them on his wall, completely believed in those racist ideologies until he realised what the reality of being a death eater was. He tried to bring voldy down but there's no evidence of him completely changing his beliefs about everything else like muggle borns, muggles, werewolves etc. Very cunning and intelligent tho, he discovered voldemort's secret before Dumbledore did. Liked kreacher but kreacher was also brainwashed with pureblood ideology, so I ll only give him half the credit. Bravely sacrificed his life in the end, but he still chose to protect his racist family.
Lily Evans: muggleborn, good at portions, described as popular and vivacious, pretty, the favourite sibling, isn't afraid of standing up to ppl (tht smirk in swm tho?), very brave, and most importantly (ppl really choose to forget this nowadays) a mother who stood in front of her baby boy in hopes of saving him from the darkest wizard alive even tho she herself was only 21 at the time, tht too right after losing her husband. Tho I'd still say that lily is a badly written character
It's fun to explore characters but not one of these core characteristics r even present. They're turned into one dimensional social justice warriors who r always right in everything they do
Now I get it, ppl want them to fit with current day ideals, but y not just create different/new characters then? What's the point of holding on to that nostalgia if most of their character isn't even there anymore? Where's all the toxicity coming from? And anyone who doesn't agree is homophobic and whatever other -phobic u choose to employ in the most irrelevant context ever. It's all so stupid smh🙄
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