#if he wants another dog I’ll bark- I’ll bark as much as he wants | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

menagerofmischief · 1 month ago

Note

I rarely indulge in these kinds of things but I love your diner and I have to place my own order!!

Served by Lando Norris

Starter - artichoke dip (thinking Fewtrell reader cause Lando had been WANTING reader)

cold appetizer

Main dish:

Sausage rolls

Sushi

Ceasar Salad

Veggie Burger

Drinks:

Fanta

Apple cider

Vodka soda

Dessert - yes

Fav GP is Singapore or Vegas was fun last year! (Im a whore for a good night race)

Dia's Diner Menu

artichoke dip brother's friend cold appetizer rough sex sausage rolls "I'll make it fit" veggie burger "Feel how hard you make me" sushi "Better quiet down you don't want them to hear us" ceaser salad "Lie to me again and you're not gonna like what happens next" fanta size kink apple cider spitting vodka redbull squirting dessert aftercare + moussaka "You look your best covered in my cum"

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!reader

TW: unprotected sex, fingering, squirting, spitting in mouth

WC: 2.3k

A/N: I kid you not, I screamed when I got this request. I was so happy to write something for you, hope you enjoy it!

❀

“You’re like a fucking dog, Norris!” I say, bringing my hands up to shield by face as Lando shakes his head, droplets of water from his wet hair spraying onto me.

Lando has been best friends with my brother, Max, for practically as long as I can remember. He was always there and he was everywhere. From family dinner to family vacations, you name it, he’s attended it with my brother.

He’s been around for every awkward phase of my life and every especially embarrassing moment. I wasn’t blind, I’ve always thought he was attractive and it would be a lie to say I’ve never had feelings for him.

But I never dared to say anything. He was Max’s best friend which meant he was off limits or my brother would throw a hissy fit. And I’m sure he had received a speech about how I was off limits from my brother as well.

Not that it ever stopped him from letting his gaze wander over my body, studying every curve and looking way longer than he should have. Or giving me one of his infamous smirks whenever I caught him doing it.

We were currently on a summer vacation with Max and his girlfriend Pietra. It was summer break for Formula 1, so Max insisted on taking a trip with Lando and dragging me along. Summer trips meant warm places with beaches and beaches with Lando meant getting sprayed with water while I was laying on the sunbeds.

Lando laughed, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “Should I bark then as well?” He asked, his lips stretching into a smirk.

“You try that and I’ll call animal control to pick you up.” I said, rolling my eyes at him. I moved my eyes back to the book I had laying open in my lap, trying my best to focus on the words on the page instead of him.

He was still wet from the water and I couldn’t decide which part of him I wanted to look at more. His chest, with drops of water sliding down and catching along his happy trail. Or his thighs, the way his wet swim trunks hugged his muscular thighs, making them look extra delicious.

Not only that but the outline of his dick was very clear and practically begging me to look at it.

“You like what you see?” Lando asked, the tone of his voice teasing. Slowly I dragged my gaze back up to meet his, feeling my cheeks heat up a little from the embarrassment.

“The only thing bigger than your ego is the iceberg that sank the Titanic.” I told him, quickly returning my attention back to my book. Lando only laughed in response.

✿ ✿ ✿

Later that night, back in the hotel, I was laying in my bed bored out of my mind. I scrolled Instagram enough for a warning to pop up that I spent too much time on the app and then scrolled TikTok until the videos became repetitive.

At first I thought I’d go to Max’s room and annoy him but then decided against it in favor of giving him and his girlfriend some alone time. After another five minutes of fatal boredom I dragged myself out of the bed and set my way towards Lando’s room.

The door swung open after only one knock, leaving my hand still in the air as I faced Lando. He was shirtless, with a pair of shorts low enough on his waist to show just a hint of the waistband of his boxers. His hair was damp and his room just a bit steamed up - he must have showered recently.

“Expecting someone?” I asked, giving him a smirk.

“Yes,” he said, a smile stretching over his lips. “I was expecting you.”

He moved to the side to let me get into his room and closed the door behind me. I hummed, “I’m sure you were.”

“I was actually,” he said, throwing himself onto his bed. He put his hands behind his head, stretching himself and the muscles in his arms flexed.

Lando may not be the tallest guy, but he was taller than me, that’s for sure. And his build, along with all the muscles that his extensive training had formed on his body made him look even more deliciously bigger.

I was staring, my gaze fixated on his movements. This time I didn’t even have the courtesy to look ashamed of doing it.

Lando moved so quickly I barely saw it coming. One of his hands grabbed mine and pulled me onto the bed, making me land right on top of him. I gasped, bracing my hands against the mattress and looking at him with wide eyes.

In this position he was so close, closer than he’s ever been. I stared at him, my mouth slightly open as I breathed, my breath mingling with his. “Lando,” I whispered, not daring to speak at full volume, afraid the moment was just going to disappear.

His gaze went down, his eyes fixated on my lips. I didn’t allow myself any time to overthink, knowing I would end up chickening out - so I leaned down and tentatively brushed my lips against his.

Lando groaned at the contact, his hand grabbing the back on my neck and forcing me towards him even more, crashing my lips against his in a bruising kiss. His tongue stroked mine and I couldn’t help but moan into his mouth, unaware of the fact that I was grinding against him.

We finally broke apart, both of us gasping for air. My cheeks felt like they were burning and there was a hint of redness on Lando’s as well.

“Fuck,” I whispered, the curse rolling off my tongue. “We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s wrong -”

Lando cut me off by thrusting his hips upwards, his bulge rubbing against my clothed core. “Feel that?” Lando asked, his breath hot against my face. “Feel how hard you make me? Feel how good it is to have me rubbing against you?” I nodded breathlessly, unable to form words. “Something that feels this right, definitely can’t be wrong.”

And he’s right. It feels good, it feels right. I like him and for once I stop thinking about what everyone else wants and what they’ll think and focus on myself.

I find myself nodding along, leaning down to kiss him again. It’s desperate, passionate, full with need and longing that it seems both of us have been trying to suppress.

“Let me take this off, yeah?” Lando asks, pulling away and reaching for the hem of my top. Wordlessly I lift my hands up, making it easier for him to slide it over my head.

I’m not wearing a bra, so the second my top is off my tits are bare for him to see. My nipples harden and I hiss when Lando palms my breasts and teasingly runs his thumb over my nipple before pinching it.

“Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles, not wasting a second longer before he’s diving down, his lips wrapping around my nipple and rolling the bug with his tongue. A moan slips past my lips and I wrap my fingers around his locks, keeping his head in place.

“Lando, please,” I whine, my voice breathy and desperate. “Want you to fuck me.”

He doesn’ need to hear more than that, suddenly he’s flipping us over, towering over me. He presses a quick kiss to my lips before going down and taking my shorts and panties off with one go.

He blows air on my pussy, making me whine and playfully slap his arm. “Stop teasing, it’s mean.”

He chuckles, his fingers slipping through my arousal and circling my entrance. “Tell me baby,” he whispers against my skin, his lips pressed to my collarbones. “How many times did you touch yourself just like this, imagining it was me instead.”

I shake my head, not wanting to admit the truth. “Didn’t,” I manage to murmur out.

He huffs, and then his fingers pinch my clit, making me buck my hips and moan at the mix of pain and pleasure. “Lie to me again, and you’re not gonna like what happens next.” His voice leaves no room for argument and I know he really means it. “Now, I think I asked you a question.”

“Too many!” I admit, a moan slipping out when his fingers begin to rub my clit in fast, harsh circles. “I don’t know! Don’t keep track of how much I do it.”

“There we go,” Lando hums, the expression on his face looking satisfied. “See how good you can behave.”

He slips two fingers in me, sliding right in with no resistance, thanks to how wet I am. Through the whole process he keeps rubbing my clit, and suddenly the pleasure doubles when he starts to thrust his fingers into me, grazing my G-spot every time.

“Lando, so good,” I moan out. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth I wish I didn’t say them because the pleasure that was building up is instantly gone as Lando pulls his fingers out and away from my clit. I’m left gasping, looking at him with a glare.

“Fuck sweetheart don’t look at me like that,” he says, his voice is hoarse. “I’ve thought about this so many times. The first time I make you cum I want it to be around my cock.”

He lifts his hand, his fingers covered in my arousal, and pops them into his mouth, sucking them clean and groaning at the taste. “Taste so good, sweetheart, come on open up.”

Instinctively I open my mouth, thinking he’s going to push his fingers into my mouth for me to taste myself. Instead he leans over me and spits into my mouth, and though barely, I can taste myself.

I moan when it hits my tongue, and lock my eyes with his before swallowing. He groans, his fingers grabbing my chin, “God, you’re such a good girl. Perfect little slut - and just for me.”

“Just for you,” I repeat, nodding my head. “Now please fuck me, Lando, it’s too much!”

Lando takes off his shorts and boxers, leaving himself bare in front of me. My eyes are instantly drawn to his cock, standing proud, the tip leaking pre-cum. My eyes widen at the size of it, he’s bigger than anyone I’ve been with before.

He must see it on my face because he cups my cheek with one hand while nestling himself between my thighs. “Don’t worry, sweet girl, I’ll make it fit.”

He pushes in slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size, pushing inch after inch inside of me until his hips are flush against mine. He looks at me for confirmation and I give him a nod to go ahead.

While he was really sweet by starting gentle and going slow until I was ready - now that he’s fucking me, he’s anything but. Lando’s thrusts are rough, pulling almost all the way out and then pushing back, deep inside, his hips hitting mine over and over again.

“Lando, so good, fuck!” I moan out. My voice is high pitches and my moans are becoming louder as I am unable to control them, or think anything much in general.

Lando’s hand presses down against my mouth, instantly muffling the sound of my moans. “Better quiet down,” he growls into my ear. “Max and Pietra are in the room next door. You don’t want them to hear us do you?”

I shake my head no and Lando removes his hand. Without his hand covering my mouth it’s much harder to keep the moans and whines coming out of my lips down.

“Lan, I’m gonna cum, please!” I plead, feeling the pleasure build up, unlike anything I’ve experienced before.

“Go on,” Lando says with a groan and I feel him twitch inside of me. “Cum for me baby. Cum all over my dick.”

His words topple me over the edge and I come harder than I’ve ever cum before. It’s not until I look down and see Lando’s abdomen and half of the bed wet that I realize I squirted. Lando groans, his fingers rubbing through my fold for a moment before he brings them up to his mouth and sucks them clean.

“That was so hot baby,” he says. He thrusts into me a few more times and then pulls out, cumming all over my stomach and tits.

He looks down at me, trying to catch his breath and his eyes sparkle with a hint of something. “You always look so damn gorgeous,” he says, his fingers rubbing gentle comforting circles into my hip. “But you look your best covered in my cum.”

I stared at the ceiling, still a bit out of breath. “That was the best orgasm of my life,” I said, with a laugh.

“Guess I’ll have to give you many more then,” Lando said.

“I don’t how you’ll survive,” I teased.

“I’ll make do,” Lando replied, leaning down to kiss me sweetly. He reached for his suitcase that was next to the bed and got a what I assumed was a dirty shirt and used it to wipe his cum off my body.

After that he got another T-Shirt, this time a clean one and helped me put it on. He put his underwear back on and then crawled into the bed, next to me. He wrapped one of his arms around my stomach and placed lazy kisses on my cheek and neck.

“Want to watch a movie and order room service?” He asked, rubbing his nose against my neck.

“God, you’re perfect.”

“Thanks, I know!”

“Just play the damn movie, Lando.”

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dixons-sunshine · 5 months ago

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Needs To Be Perfect | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Thank you @lazyneonrabbitt for the idea!

“M’tellin’ ya, Dog, it has to be perfect. I can’t screw it up. She ain’t gon’say yes if it ain’t a hundred percent perfect.”

You stopped your descend down the stairs, hiding your body behind the wall as you heard your partner’s voice fill the air. You had temporarily left just to go grab something from your room, and it appeared to you that Daryl had decided to have a heart-to-heart with his furry companion in your absence. And apparently, the aforementioned heart-to-heart included something he was planning for you. Saying that your interest was peaked would be an understatement.

You could hear Dog let out a small bark, as if trying to communicate with his owner. “Yeah, s’what m’thinkin’. She’s perfect, so she deserves the damn best proposal ever. Ain’t gon’ give her no damn sloppy one.”

You could feel your heart stop, yet speed up at the same time. Proposal? Daryl was planning on proposing? How long had he been wanting to do that? And why did he ever believe you’d say no? He could propose to you with one of his bike’s wheel nuts in a sewer and you’d say yes with zero hesitation. That’s how much you loved your partner.

“M’thinkin’a takin’ her out on my bike to that lake we found way back when. S’one’a her favourite spots. Maybe I can set up a picnic or somethin’.” Daryl stopped and let out a deep sigh. “Nah, that’s too cliche. She ain't any ordinary person. She deserves better than that. Bein’ proposed to while on a picnic... S’been done way too many times already.”

You smiled to yourself as your grip on the book—the thing you had left to go grab from your room—tightened. Your heart was attempting to pound out of your ribcage. So you hadn’t misheard him. Your partner and love of your whole life was planning on making it official. He was planning on putting a ring on your finger. He wanted you to be his wife. You felt like crying from happiness, but you knew that if you did, Daryl would be alerted to your knowledge of his plans. No, you wouldn’t spoil this for him by letting him know that you knew.

“What ‘bout takin’ her huntin’ and proposin’ to her like that?” As if disliking the idea, Dog let out a growl. “Well, what do ya suggest I do, then?!” Daryl exclaimed in frustration, before stopping and letting out another sigh. “What have I come to? Talkin’ to a dog ‘bout things it ain’t never gon’ be able to help me with. M’slippin’ badly,” Daryl mumbled to himself. “I jus’... M’terrified, Dog. I dun’ wanna screw it up. I dun’ know what I’ll do if she says no.”

Your heart broke at the sound of the evident fear in the archer’s voice. You knew that this fear stemmed from years of mistreatment. Daryl didn’t believe that he deserved you, and he was scared of the day you’d walk out on him—a day that would never come. So, you vowed to yourself you’d ensure that he wouldn’t doubt himself. You’d subtly ensure him that whatever he decided to do as his proposal, you’d say yes regardless. He deserved to have that clarity.

You stomped your foot on the stair once, loud enough so that Daryl could hear and think that you were just bounding down the stairs. You walked down the remaining few steps and walked into the living room, book in hand. Daryl looked up at you with raised eyebrows and widened eyes, clearly being afraid of being caught planning something big. You knew, of course, but you wouldn’t tell him about your knowledge of his plans.

“Sorry it took forever to come back,” you apologized, raising the book for him to see. “This took me a while to find. Did I miss anything?”

Daryl let out a small sigh of relief, and you had to refrain from chuckling. “Nah, nothin’ important. Jus’ havin’ a lil’ chat with Dog,” he told you, falling back on the couch and patting his bare chest as a way to tell you he expected more cuddles—cuddles that had been interrupted earlier due to your need to find the book.

You smiled and climbed onto the couch, settling snuggly against him and opening the book. “He say anything interesting?”

Daryl snorted as his eyes drifted to the animal that rested on the floor near the couch. “Nah.” He wrapped his arms around you and placed a tender kiss to the top of your head. “Ya gon’ read to me now or not?”

“In a minute.” You looked at Daryl and gave him a small smile. You admired his features, from the dip of his nose to the curve of his lips, his beautiful ocean coloured eyes, everything. Everything about this man was beautiful to you. “You’re stunning, Daryl.” Daryl scoffed and shook his head, but you cut him off before he could say anything. “It’s true. Don’t even try to fight me on this. You’re stunning. You’re kind, you’re smart, you’re brave, and you’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met. I’m so lucky I get to tell everyone that you’re the love of my life. I’m so lucky that I get to spend my life with you, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Daryl hesitated for a moment, before sending you a small smile. “Yeah? Ya dun’ mind spendin’ yer life with me?”

You shook your head. “Not at all.” You leaned down and pressed a soft, tender kiss to his lips before pulling back. “I love you, Daryl Dixon.”

“And I love ya. So fuckin’ much.”

And with that, some of Daryl’s worries got soothed. He was still freaking out over what he would do for a proposal, but he felt a little better knowing that you didn’t intend on leaving him anytime soon. You were the light of Daryl's existence.

And he planned on keeping you in his life for the rest of his days.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

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jobean12-blog · 6 months ago

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Bucky and Bluey and You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1,882

Summary: Bucky has been away on a mission and to pass the time you started watching a new TV show. You love it and you can't wait to watch it with him.

Author's Note: Well it happened. I love the show Bluey so much and thought it would be so fun to introduce it to Bucky. If you haven't seen Bluey you can still read it of course. I did use a couple of lines from some episodes but I've said which ones so you can watch it you want! 😁Either way it's really just sweet domestic fun and fluff! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: it's fun and fluffy and soft and sweet and silly and there are bits of spice :)

You’re bouncing on your slipper clad heels as you wait at the curb for the sound of the engine. You look up at the window of your apartment and see both Alpine and Winter sitting at the glass and watching you.

It makes you smile, their cute faces a momentary distraction, so when you finally hear the familiar roar of his motorcycle you squeal in excitement and do a little happy dance.

He rounds the corner and revs the engine before slowing down and idling right in front of you, the sound dying down to a low hum. You throw yourself into his open arms and bury your face in his neck.

“Hiya doll face,” he murmurs into your skin.

Before you can say hello in return he slides his hand up your back and curls his fingers around your neck to direct your lips to his.

It’s a sweet kiss that quickly turns heated the more you stay pressed against him on the bike. A car passes by and beeps loudly, breaking you two apart with a laugh.

“Hi,” you whisper and kiss him again.

With your hand in his you walk into the apartment, instantly greeted by Winter’s loud and happy barks and Alpine’s meandering softness.

“Hey boys,” Bucky says and bends down to pet them both.

Winter wiggles round and round, his long tail slapping the wall while Alpine rubs himself along Bucky’s arm.

“They missed you.”

He looks up at your words, letting his eyes do a slow sweep over your body.

“I missed you,” he says and stands to take you in his arms.

After another kiss he whispers against your lips, “what did you do without me all week?”

While he waits for your answer he walks you toward the bedroom.

“Watched Bluey.”

He pauses in the hallway, his lips turned up in a boyish smirk.

“Bluey? Is that the one with the blue dog?”

You nod excitedly.

“YES BUCK! It’s SO good. I love it so much!”

He smiles. A real smile where his eyes crinkle at the corners and their blue color sparkles more than usual.

“Really?” he asks, dipping his head to kiss along your neck.

“Yes,” you breathe out, instantly distracted.

“I’m glad you found something to watch that makes you happy doll.”

He nibbles on your earlobe then runs his nose along your jaw, finding your lips again as he pins you against the wall.

“Will you watch it with me?

“Hm doll?” he asks, clearly focused on kissing every inch of your skin.

“Bluey. Will you watch with me?”

“I’ll do whatever you want doll face,” he hums as his fingers slip under your shirt-which is actually his shirt. “Right after I do you.”

You gently wake to the warmth of Bucky’s bare chest, the scent of him surrounding you and keeping you in a comfortable haze of sleepiness. With a stretch you spread out and giggle softly when your feet hit Winter’s large body at the end of the bed. Your hand falls to Alpine who’s snuggled in a tight ball and asleep above Bucky’s head on his pillow.

“Looks like I’m the only one up,” you mutter to yourself.

Bucky turns from his back to his side and throws his arm over you, tugging until you’re nuzzled under his chin.

“I’m up,” he says sleepily. “Sorta.”

“CAN WE WATCH BLUEY!?” you squeak.

You wiggle out of his hold and catch his eyes pop open with a confused expression. You narrow your gaze.

“What about breakfast?” he asks with a yawn before rolling on top of you.

“HEY!” you squeal. “You promised you’d do whatever I want…remember? And I want to watch Bluey!”

“What was that doll?” he asks as his fingers dance along your sides, their feather light touch very ticklish.

“BUCKY!” you yell!

Alpine’s disgruntled meow is followed by a dramatic sigh from Winter.

“The babies are not happy with you right now Barnes.”

“I need something to eat first,” he whispers against your lips before they curve into a smirk.

“I’ll make you breakfast in bed.”

“My breakfast is already in bed,” he simpers as he starts to place soft kisses along your neck.

He slides down your body and pushes your shirt up over your hips, pressing on your thighs to spread them wide so he can settle between them.

Your fingers fall to his long hair and you drag them over his scalp, pulling a low moan from the back of his throat.

His satisfied hum hits you in just the right spot and you forget all about Bluey and breakfast.

“Now are you ready?” you ask from the other side of the bed.

He’s sitting up, still shirtless, but with a tray full of food. Eggs, bacon, toast, and pancakes, along with his coffee.

“Yep!” he chimes happily. “I had my dessert and now I have plenty of food. Let’s watch!”

He winks at you then digs in.

You playfully roll your eyes and curl up under his outstretched arm. His other hand holds his fork to shovel the bites into his mouth. Alpine sits at Bucky’s feet, his tail swishing back and forth as if he’s deciding whether or not to swipe something to eat. Winter is seated on the floor next to the bed on Bucky’s side, the dog’s long nose resting on the mattress as close to the tray of food as he can get without getting into trouble.

“So the episodes don’t really need to be watched in any order and I thought we could just start with a few of my favorites,” you explain as Bucky nods through a mouthful of pancakes.

“Sure baby doll.”

“And just before we start…Bandit is Dad, Chilli is Mum and Bluey and Bingo are the kids- sisters. Their last name is Heeler because they’re Australian Cattle Dogs-heelers.”

“Are all the characters dogs?” he asks.

“Yep! All different breeds too.”

“That’s fun,” he says. “It is a show for kids though right?”

“Just wait and watch,” you say with a smile.

You start with the episode titled “Grannies,” and as soon as Janet and Rita show up you can feel Bucky’s body shake with this laughter.

“I slipped on mah beans!” he repeats after Bingo, causing you both to chuckle.

“Oh poor dad,” he sighs. “Always gets stuck plunging the toilet!”

You elbow him hard and he grunts with an “ow.”

“What?” he asks. “I’m just sayin’!”

When that episode is done you start the one called “Bike.”

“You’re going to like this one too,” you tell him.

“Pardon?” he says in his best old man voice.

It sends you into a fit of giggles.

“I KNEW YOU’D LOVE THE GRANNIES!!! We're watching ‘Grannymobile’ next. You’ll get a kick out of Muffin.”

Bucky’s laughter rings out and it only makes you laugh more.

“Man Muffin nailed that grouch granny!” he says. “I love it!”

“Wait until you see her in other episodes,” you say with a devious snicker.

After you watch a few more episodes and Bucky has finished his breakfast you pause the TV and crawl into his lap.

“Well?” you ask with an expectant look.

His hands settle on your thighs and his thumbs start to rub soothingly along your skin.

“I love it,” he states. “I think it’s so funny how they act like dogs sometimes and then don’t. The kids are really cute and Bingo is my favorite!”

“I love Bingo but Bandit is my favorite! And Rusty!”

“I knew Bandit was gonna be your favorite!” he laughs. “And who’s Rusty?”

“He hasn’t been in any of the episodes we’ve watched so far but I have one more I want you to see called, ‘Army,’ and he’s in that one.”

“Ok doll face. We can watch as many as you want. I just want to get rid of his tray and grab some snacks.”

He runs out of the room in his boxer briefs and you yell after him, “I love your butt!”

“Not as much as I love yours!” he yells back.

When he returns his hands are full of snack bags and cookies and some bottled water.

“Did you just take everything out of the cabinet?” you giggle.

“Yep,” he says, popping the p and promptly sitting himself down in the middle of the bed. “Come on!”

He pats between his spread legs and waits for you to sit. Once you’re cozy in his arms he starts the episode.

“I like Rusty too,” he says once it’s over.

He kisses the top of your head and feeds you a chip.

“I wonder if Steve will play army with me?” Bucky muses, his eyes lit up with amusement. “I have to be the Sergeant though.”

“Of course you do,” you say before taking the chip and nibbling his fingers.

The two of you spend the whole morning and half the afternoon in bed. You watch Bluey, eat snacks, and just lounge around with Alpine and Winter.

“I guess we have to get up and do stuff at some point huh?” you sigh.

“At some point,” he answers. “But the only thing I’m gonna do right now is…”

Before he finishes the thought he grabs you and rolls over with you on top of him.

“ME!” you say when he opens his mouth.

“How did you know?” he asks, feigning shock.

“You always use that line Buck.”

Your fingers lightly trace his jaw, the dark shadow of hair rough under your fingertips until they meet his soft lips.

“Well it’s only because you’re my favorite thing to do and I’ve been gone a week,” he whispers before taking your hand in his and kissing each of your fingertips. “I have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

“I’m not complaining,” you murmur.

“Better not,” he warns as he slides his hands along your curves. We can always do stuff tomorrow.”

“I knew this doing stuff was never a good idea!” you huff. “We should have stayed in bed.”

“That’s what I said!” Bucky counters, giving you the ‘I told you so’ look. “Could have had a nana nap love!”

You smile brightly and laugh but when you look back down at the laundry it fades into a frown.

“Laundry sucks,” you pout and throw a pile of socks on the floor.

“Laundry SUCKS!” he adds in exasperated camaraderie.

Once the laundry is all done, the groceries are put away and the animals are fed you fall onto the couch with a dramatic sigh.

He watches you from the kitchen and when your eyes meet his he says, “how about we order some take out for dinner, take a shower, put on our pjs and watch more Bluey.

You stare from your prone position for several seconds and you can see he starts to get fidgety.

“Doll?”

He walks to the couch and stands there waiting.

Without a word you jump up and throw yourself at him. He catches you with ease and laughs when you start to pepper his face with kisses.

“For real life?” you ask.

He takes your face in his hands and gives you a long and sweet kiss.

“For real life,” he answers.

“I love you Bucky.”

“I love you more babe.”

@hiddles-rose @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @randomfandompenguin @kmc1989

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bluey #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #beefy!bucky #beefy!bucky x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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witchybitchycrybaby · 4 months ago

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Enemies in public, lovers in private

Davos Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader

Warnings: smut, it's basically porn without plot, suggestive language, fighting

Words: 3k

Also this is my first ever attempt at writing 18+ content, I hope I did well

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It was a perfect day for another traditional clash between Blackwoods and Brackens. It wasn't too hot nor cold, it didn't rain at all and the sun wasn't shining in their faces, hidden behind clouds.

Maybe it was hiding because it no longer wanted to see the unresolved conflict between the two houses.

The air was thick with tension and hatred at the boundary line. Davos Blackwood, with a handful of his men, stood at the edge of their territory, the Red Fork River murmuring softly nearby. Opposite them, you and your brother Aeron approached, flanked by a few Bracken soldiers.

Your eyes locked with Davos' brown ones with a mix of frustration and longing. That was the only way you could communicate something more than insults without anyone paying attention to you. You blinked quickly, hiding every one of your feelings behind a cold, resentful mask.

"Blackwood," Aeron sneered, his voice, though a little bit unsure, was dripping with disdain he didn't even try to disguise. He then looked the dark haired boy up and down. "What brings you to our lands? Lost your way like a stray dog?"

Davis gritted his teeth at the insult. He took one step closer to where the bracken stood. “Just making sure you craven lot aren’t overstepping your boundaries, Bracken. Your family has a knack for moving boundary stones.”

"Funny thing, Blackwood," you barked back, his name a stinging venom on your tongue. "We were just discussing how often those stones seem to wander towards our side. Must be the wind, perhaps, or the dragons. Surely, you wouldn't have any share in that, would you?"

One of the Blackwood men, until now staying a pace behind Davos, took a step forward and looked at you with so much hate and anger you had to suppress a shiver. You stood still however; you would rather die than cower before them.

"Careful, you Bracken wench. Watch your tongue before we cut it out."

Before anyone could react, Aeron's face twisted with fury, and he drew his sword. His grip was however a bit uncertain. You really appreciated this, his want to always protect you. He was the more delicate one among the two of you, not suited for battle. And yet, he was very stubborn to prove himself.

You saw the way Davos' jaw tightened as his fingers gripped the hilt of his sword. Davos Blackwood instantly unsheathed his weapon, eyes trained on the blond boy. "Looks like little Bracken is shaking in his boots. Did your sister drag you out here to play knight?"

"I've got more honor in my little finger than you have in your entire body, Blackwood."

Davos stepped closer, his eyes darkening. "Honor? You wouldn't know honor even if it bit you."

With a war cry on his lips Aeron lunged at the Blackwood boy. The metallic sound of the sword struck the otherwise quiet air like a thunder. The clang of steel against steel echoed through the trees as they clashed with a fury borne of centuries-old hatred. Their hits were brutal and fast; their movements swift and well-practiced. You watched, your heart aching with every strike, knowing you had to play your part.

The fight was intense but brief. Both men landed a few cuts, blood staining their clothes but nothing fatal. As Davos prepared for another strike, you decided you were fed up with this fight and stormed between them, your eyes blazing with anger. You put a hold on both of their arms, stopping them from doing something they would later regret.

"Stop this, both of you, or I’ll take my sword and kill you myself,” you said with ice in your voice. Your gaze wandered from one boy to the other.

They both well knew you could and would do it; you weren't the one to make empty promises. They could play their little war all they wanted, but not on your watch. You'd faster claim a dragon than let them kill themselves over some stupid boundary stones.

Your grip on their arms remained strong until both of them lowered their swords. You could feel Davos' muscles twitching beneath your touch. He huffed with anger and wrenched himself from your grasp.

For a brief moment, Davos' eyes softened as he looked at you, but he quickly masked it with a scowl. "Listen to your little cunt of a sister, Bracken. Fuck off to your side of the river.”

As he walked away to his men, you tugged at your brother and pulled him to yours. He would bitch about it later, you knew it. But oh well, you'd take it.

Aeron glared at you enraged and also pulled his arm away from you. "What are you doing, (y/n)? They deserve to be taught a lesson."

"And you'll be the one to learn it if you don't back down," you retorted, your hand closing to the hilt of your own sword. "This pathetic Blackwood isn't worth the blood on your blade."

His jaw tightened but he had enough sense in his head not to speak.

You heard Davos sheathing his sword so you turned to him. There was a small cut on his cheek and your heartbeat quickened. He wiped the blood with the back of his hand and stared right into your eyes. You lifted your chin just a little and crossed your arms.

"Tell your men to stop moving the boundary stones, and we won't have to keep coming here to correct your mistakes."

"Perhaps if your men had the integrity to keep to their own lands, we wouldn't have this problem."

A scoff came from one of the Bracken men. "You're saying you have integrity, Blackwood?"

Davos smirked, you practically could see the glint of craze in his eyes.

"It's not us who's always trying to take more than what’s ours.”

The Blackwood and Bracken men exchanged hostile glances, muttering curses under their breath. You balled your hands into fists, your knuckles white.

"Enough!" yelled Aeron. "We'll leave your precious stones alone if you do the same."

There was a moment of silence on the hill. You knew how much Davos loved those little battles between your houses and that no matter what he might now say will stop them.

Finally, Davos gave a mocking bow, his dark eyes flashed with something very opposite to the want of truce. "Fine. But don't think this is over, Blackwood."

Aeron nodded curtly. "Wouldn't dream of it."

With that, Davos Blackwood shot you a final glance and ordered his friends to retreat. There was promise in his eyes that only you could understand. You watched them go, your heart thudding in your chest. You played this meeting well, your love-hate relationship still sealed and hidden.

"Next time, dear sister," Aeron hissed. "I won't back down so easily."

You sighed when he moved away. Maybe you won't stop him next time. Maybe you should just let them kill themselves and they'd be rid of this callow feud.

As the Brackens turned back to their lands, your thoughts lingered on Davos. Your love was a dangerous game, one that could cost you everything. But for now, you had survived another day, your secret safe for a little longer.

~•~

The Mill stood at the edge of Blackwood and Bracken lands, silent and dark, shrouded in shadows. It wasn't precisely a mill anymore, truth be told. Nobody used it, so it stood empty and alone.

And it was just perfect for Davos and you. The Mill became your sanctuary, its walls one of a very few confidants of your love and late-night trysts.

Davos waited inside, not daring to light any candles for fear of drawing unwanted attention. His breath was steady, but his heart racing. He knew you'd come. You always did.

He fixed his eyes on the wooden door when he heard the soft and cautious footsteps. Your footsteps. You quietly slipped inside, the door creaking when you closed it behind yourself. You barely had time to turn around and properly look at him before he surged forward, and in seconds was on you, pushing you against the rough wall. You yelped in surprise, but it was quickly swallowed by Davos' hungry mouth when his lips crashed against yours in a hard, desperate kiss.

You instantly melted into him with a fervent response. Your hands threaded through his silken, dark locks, pulling him even closer. His hands roamed over your clothed body, caressing the curves of your waist and hips, which he knew so well.

Finally, you broke the kiss, panting heavily, both completely out of breath. There was a string of saliva connecting your lips. You leaned back, resting your head against the wall.

"Cunt?" You asked rising an eyebrow. "I thought you'd have some more sophisticated terms up your sleeve, Blackwood."

He laughed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "My apologies. Had to keep up the appearances." he murmured, his voice anything but apologetic. He pressed a kiss to the column of your neck, and you shivered. "Would you prefer 'Bracken witch' instead?"

Your eyes narrowed in mock-serious resentment, but your body betrayed you, arching towards him. "Bastard." You whispered with a smirk on your lips. Just like that, he was forgiven.

He'd kneel if you'd asked. He would beg, and he wouldn't find any trace of shame it that. Seven Hells, he'd crawl if that was what you wanted. He'd do everything without a second to lose, because you were his Brecken. His and nobody elses.

"And you love me anyway." He gave you one more peck on the lips and grasped your hand in his. He pulled you further into the Mill, towards the makeshift bed of hay and blankets. As you moved, he kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

"I've missed you," he whispered, his hands moving to the laces of your shirt. You could feel his impatient fingers grazing over your sternum and stomach. You sighed with contentment when the material slid from your shoulders and fell to the ground.

"I hate how much I've missed you too," you admitted, your hands clasping his shirt and pulling it over his head.

Davos attacked your lips with a new wave of desire, he kissed you like a man starved, and you were the sweetest of fruits. His hands slid down your waist to the lacing of your breeches and slipped them off. He picked you up, and you crossed your ankles behind his back. His body was so hot; in every place you touched, you felt fire.

He laid you gently on the blanket and quickly discarded his own breeches somewhere in the corner. He then climbed on top of you, careful not to put his whole body weight on you. You opened your legs to accommodate him and you gasped when his half-hard cock brushed against your inner thigh.

"I was a bit disappointed seeing you fight today, Blackwood. I've seen better fighting from children. Do you train with toddlers in Raventree Hall?"

"You vixen," Davos rasped and bit your lip and didn't let go until he tasted warm metallic liquid on his tongue. "My fighting is better than whatever pathetic excuse for training do Brackens do. I bet even a blindfolded squire could best you or your brother."

His lips wandered down your body, leaving open mouthed kisses in their wake. Down the column of your neck, to your collarbone, and to your breasts. He eagerly took one nipple in his mouth, teasing it into hard peak. He then continued his ministrations on the other one, all while you were a squirming and whining mess under him.

You threw your head back and dug your nails deep into his shoulders when Davos put his hand between your heated bodies. He was sure that the marks you'd leave would stay on his back for quite a while. His finger travelled between your folds and stopped right at your entrance. You pushed your hips to seek any type of friction but he just released your nipple with a soft pop and shook his head, a crazed smirk on his face.

"You know, Bracken," he whispered slowly, leaning above you, his face mere inches from yours. "I used 'cunt' on purpose. Because yours is just divine.

And with that he thrusted one of his digits inside you. You moaned, and all he wanted to do was freeze the time and capture the sound in a bottle. His perfect Bracken, all pretty and pliant for him. He could do whatever he wanted to you, and you'd let him. His ethereal lover.

You buckled your hips once more when he pulled and pushed two fingers. In and out, in and out. He could see the unshed tears on your lashes when his thumb started to tease your clit.

"Fuck-.Davos..." You whimpered. "You lousy teaser."

He captured your lips in his again, a low groan escaped from him when your soft, warm walls started to tighten around his fingers.

"You are so eager, my dear Bracken, so unsated. You will come on my fingers and then I'll fuck you stupid, I promise."

And it didn't take long. He kissed you until both of you were breathless, and whispered sweet nothings into your ear; whispered how good you were for him, how good you were taking him, heaven-sent just for him to have and take care of. He pushed his fingers and continued his assault oh your clit until your legs started shaking. Your back arched into him, and with his name on your lips, you climaxed. And even after that, he didn't stop because that's what he was there for. To make you happy, to worship you, your body and the ground you walked on.

You panted when he removed his fingers and brought them to his lips. You watched as his tongue darted around them, licking up your juices.

"You will be the death of me, Blackwood," you moaned and kissed him hard. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it made your head spin. You locked your ankles behind his back to keep him in place. As if Davos would rather be anywhere else than right here.

"Will you give me another one?" He asked and positioned his cock right at your entrance. You shivered some more when you felt his already leaking tip tease and push at you. "Will you," he pushed more until he was inside your warmth. "be a good girl to me?"

You writhed beneath him and it made him swell with pride. He made that. He was responsible for this state you were in. His sweet, sweet girl.

"If you don't put it in right now, I'll do it," you blurted.

"As the lady commands." He grinned at you and bottomed out in one smooth thrust.

He groaned at the feeling and hid his face in the crook of your neck. He needed a moment to compose himself and not come right away. You were so warm and tight, he truly didn't mind dying like that, inside of you.

You gasped for air and looped your arms around his neck. One of your hands tangled into his hair, your nails scratching his scalp. Did you know how much he loved you? Did you know that he would kill for you? Gods, he would start a war in your name, all you had to do was ask.

Davos tightened his jaw and rolled his hips just a little. Both of you moaned in unison. You didn't believe in heaven or hell, but you sure knew that heaven was right here, with him between your legs and inside you.

"You chicken out, Blackwood? Are you just gonna lie there and look pretty, or will you move already?"

"I should've put this mouth of yours to a better use," he muttered but did as he was told. He pulled out almost completely and then thrust back in. Hard. You yelped and cried out in pleasure.

He did it again. And again. And again. It was a torturous tempo, and everything in him screamed to be faster and claim you already. But you were a brat today, a spoiled brat, and he wanted to punish you for it. Yet, your sweet mewling and moaning made him grit his teeth and go faster.

He placed his hands in the bend of your legs and brought them to your chest to give himself even better access to your pulsating core. You were so beautiful like this, so hauntingly beautiful he could cry. His Bracken, his, his, his and he accentuated it with each deep thrust he made.

You moved together, your tempo more erratic with each push. The world outside the walls of the Mill stopped existing; there were no more lands, no more Blackwoods and no more Brackens. There were just you and your desire.

Davos knew he wouldn't last much longer, and neither would you. He left open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your neck and collarbones until he felt the climax building up within himself. He could feel it in you too by how your walls were tightening around him. You had this serene, fucked-out expression on your face, your eyes glassy. And it tipped him over the edge.

You came together. His milky spent filled your insides, some starting to leak out as soon as he pulled out and turned around to lie on his back beside you. Your bodies were covered in a thin layer of sweat, the smell of sex filling the air.

You panted heavily for a while, and then Davos pulled you on top of him, your hair pooling around you two. You placed your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

You then pulled yourself up and leaned on your elbows. Your smile was sated when you looked into his eyes, but it faltered when your gaze fell on the cut on his cheek. You gently traced it with your fingers.

"Does it hurt?" You asked softly.

But he just turned his head and kissed your wrist. "It's not bad. Blackwoods are tougher than Brackens, I assure you."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Stubborn as mules, more like."

"Maybe," he replied and caressed your cheek. "But we know what we want."

"And what do you want, Davos Blackwood?" You whispered leaning into his touch.

"You, (y/n) Bracken. Always you."

#english is not my first language #davos blackwood #aeron bracken #davos blackwood x reader #davos blackwood x you #x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #davos blackwood smut #hotd smut #benjicot blackwood #benjicot blackwood x reader

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ivymarquis · 4 months ago

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Say You Won’t Let Go

No good deed goes unpunished

Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 2.1k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Zombie apocalypse (I like how I lied to both myself and y’all that there was ever gonna be a chance of it being another type of apocalypse), both John and Love are a little crazy which is to be expected re: zombie!au, more nausea, more pregnancy related discourse, zombie world building and the ramifications/implications of being pregnant in the apocalypse, the author is currently having A Thing about pepperoncinis, strong hints to the events that lead to Love being abandoned, etc etc etc

First/Previous Chapter Here | Next Chapter

Captain John Price of the SAS, it seems, has decided to keep you.

As a child your neighbors had an Australian Cattle Dog.

He reminds you of that dog. Keyed in on your every move, herding you about as he sees fit throughout the day.

Gets irritated just like that dog used to, if he finds you somewhere he thinks you shouldn’t be.

Being alone with a man you do not know goes against everything you were taught growing up. You, however, are not exactly spoiled for choice where company is concerned and are in no position to bite the hand willing to feed you. Especially when the hand in question hasn’t done anything untoward.

John provides security and stability, even if he fusses at you incessantly.

“Need to be eating more than that.”

Objectively you know he’s correct, but there’s fuck all to be done about it.

“I can’t. I’ll throw up.”

You learn the nausea card will stay his hand, not that you’re even overplaying it. The child you’re carrying likes to alternate between sitting on your bladder and your stomach between bouts of playing soccer with your ribcage. Not exactly making it easy on you to get (or keep down) the food you need to grow a liver or a pair of lungs, or whatever it is that you’re cooking in the final stretch of your pregnancy.

For the most part he leaves you be about the food if he sees you picking at something over the duration of the day.

You circle each other cautiously; circumstance and loneliness making you unwilling to avoid him, but also still having the good sense to be aware you’re dealing with a stranger for less than a full day.

He’s brash, obviously used to getting his way. You don’t know a ton about the military and can only assume that it comes with the territory. He’s used to barking orders and commanding a space. You’re not exactly in a position to buck against his hand- and it’s not like you really want to, anyway.

He gives you first pick of the food, your cravings deciding your meal for you.

Cravings in an apocalypse blow, by the way. It’s not like you can get the tandoori chicken from your favorite Indian place at 2 am just because the mood strikes.

“I would kill for a jar of pepperoncinis,” you mumble, mostly to yourself one night as you pick at your dinner. God you could fuck a jar of them up with how your mouth is watering just at the thought of them.

In fact, had the world not gone to hell in a handbasket you’d probably be doing something cruel and inhumane to a pile of them. Like dipping them into nutella. Wasn’t one of the joys of pregnancy appeasing your cravings with absolutely abominable food combinations?

You’re not exactly in fight or flight at this exact moment, but you are in survival mode. No luxury of door dashing random items.

“How much longer do you think you’ve got?” The captain asks one night over dinner.

“I’m not sure. I think any day now at this point.”

You feel like you’re all belly, something that’s compounded by his follow up question of “Only got the one in there?” which is honestly fair.

“Yes. The midwife said he just has an Olympic sized swimming pool to float around in.”

“Midwife would be handy to have given your state.”

The question is buried between the lines. Why are you here and not with her?

“She’s dead.”

That’s what started this whole mess, isn’t it? It’s not your fault she’s dead but her absence was the catalyst of your group abandoning you.

He pauses his own meal, looking at you momentarily. “Sorry to hear that.”

You don’t know what to say in reply.

It feels disingenuous to pretend her death impacted you more than it actually did. While you two had spent more time together as your pregnancy progressed, the conversations had stayed staunchly about the baby and changes to your body.

You weren’t friends. But she was kind and compassionate and seemed knowledgeable about what was happening to you.

It does make you nervous, though. Women have had babies unassisted for millenium, but women have also died in childbirth since the dawn of time. Certain cultures regarded a successful birth in the same vein as warriors returning home from battle.

Since he asked- in a roundabout way- about your group, you feel bold enough to ask about his.

“How’d you get separated from your group?”

“Got caught with our trousers down by a herd wandering through this area. We were overwhelmed and I ended up going through a window. Did a number on my leg, that seems to finally be healing.”

Herds is such a funny way to describe a roaming group of the undead.

Herds usually contain deer, or horses, or sheep. Something soft and doe eyed that you can pet. Something that has teeth, yes, but typically not interested in hurting you.

Packs would be the better descriptor in your opinion- but then no one had asked you, had they?

“Do you think they’re still in the area?”

“Not if they’ve got any fucking sense,” he grouses. “There’s a group of survivors up north we’ve been taking care of. Safe zone so to speak- about as safe as anything can be, at least. Came down for supplies as the area looked clear, but the truck broke down. Herd came through and mucked everything up.”

The prospect of another community- a safe zone- enraptures you.

You’re not stupid, even if a lapse of judgment and a too long dry spell breaking has landed you in your current predicament. You understand that you’re a bit of a ticking time bomb.

You live in a world where safety is no longer a guarantee. That too much noise, and too much attention drawn can be a death sentence.

So having a baby is a far riskier move these days than it was in the past. There’s so much that can go wrong. You can’t tell a baby to be quiet because a herd is passing through and if any of them hear, then you’ve signed everyone’s death warrant.

And that’s if you and your child don’t die in labor.

So you were understandably devastated but yielded to the group consensus to leave you behind.

But a safe zone?

You’ve been floating around in limbo since parting from your group. Understanding that your death is written on the walls, but unwilling to lay down and die without trying.

You feel something akin to hope fluttering in your belly- that maybe you and your child will survive. That there’s not a blade waiting to descend on you when your water breaks.

“Can you take me there? Are you trying to go back?”

John regards you for a moment, and you try to not squirm in apprehension.

“Would be a whole lot easier if I had a working vehicle,” he states. “Between my leg and your,” he pauses, spearing a bite of his food and making a vague gesture at you as he chews, “current condition, walking that far isn’t a good idea.”

Right. Because you’re a ticking time bomb who might pop in the next hour, next week, or next day and there’s absolutely no way to know until it happens. Hence why you were trolling through a neighborhood looking for somewhere safe to bed down until you have your baby.

Talk about caught with your pants down if your water breaks trying to traverse a substantial distance. But then traveling with a newborn puts another target on your back, doesn’t it? How long until you’re comfortable with how fussy your baby is and you become confident you can read his cues? That’s a hell of a dice to roll.

“If I can find a working radio I can call my team. Or something I can drive.”

“I’m good with tech,” you volunteer. “Even if the radio doesn’t work- maybe I can make it work.”

You’ve always been someone who takes pride in your work, but working in tech in a post-collapse society has rendered your knowledge useless when traveling with a nomadic group just trying to make things work day by day.

So you’ve been feeling like a bit of a lame duck lately, even though you know logically that’s not being particularly fair to your circumstances. You’ve been forced to learn more pragmatic skills (at least, for the zombie apocalypse) but having to learn them on the fly with threats constantly looming over you doesn’t exactly provide a safe place to fail while you get over a learning curve.

Obviously close combat isn’t ideal in your situation. Guns draw too much attention with the noise. Maybe you can find a bow and practice with it.

So you jump at the opportunity to show that you might be able to pull your own weight. That you’re more than a fragile time bomb waiting for the counter to hit zero.

“I’ll keep that in mind if I find a broken one, then,” he appeases, although you can’t get enough of a read on him to know if he’s just placating you.

It’s a bit after dinner and the sun setting that John decides it’s time to herd you up to bed. “Right then, time to get you back upstairs.”

It’s only been two days now but it doesn’t take a genius to realize he’s got a thing about you and the stairs.

Someone like him is likely used to preparing for the worst case scenario in every situation. Lord knows what sort of horrors he’s thought up of you losing your balance going up or down, but he’d chewed on you pretty good earlier in the day when you’d tried to go up them without him to get something out of your bag.

Lesson learned- no traversing the stairs unattended.

Given that you are perpetually exhausted at this point, you can’t see the value in arguing that you don’t need your sleep schedule dictated to you. Left to your own devices you likely would have begun nodding off on the couch.

Even with your group, while there’d be assigned watch times, there wasn’t an enforced bedtime. Everyone’s adults- you were expected to handle your shit and be ready to move when it’s time to go.

So you nod along and let him guide you up.

John is magnanimous about the resources in the house, letting you be uncontested for the bathroom upstairs. You don’t understand how plumbing works but you can’t even bring yourself to complain about the cold water as you clean yourself.

There is a chair in “your” room, and the first night you placed it under the doorknob so that should John get any suspicious ideas, at least you’d be awake for your grizzy demise.

The doorknob never so much as turned, and you’ve been at his mercy long enough you decide if he was going to do anything unhinged, he’d have done it by now.

You are snuggled into your bed- which might as well be a luxurious thing with a 600 thread count for all you can care right now, even though it’s most assuredly not- and hear the sound of John’s door closing across the hall, and are out like a light before you can even process the noise and assume that he’s down for the count for tonight just like you are.

Come morning- after you’re finished in the bathroom and are greeted in the hall by John waiting for you- you realize that John was not squirreled away in his own room last night. He leads you down the stairs- insists on being between you and the bottom of the stairwell.

There’s a jar of pepperoncini peppers, a container of prenatal vitamins, and a pack of preggie pops which claims to be a pregnancy safe anti nausea candy.

The logical side of your brain should be floored that this veritable stranger has paid more attention to your needs (and yes you’re going to go ahead and count the pepperoncinis down as a need) in a day and a half than certain exes had during the entire run of your relationships with them.

A thank you would be appropriate given the situation.

Unfortunately, however, your hormone addled “I've been fending for myself after being abandoned, and I'm still emotionally fried” brain has been the one calling the shots lately, so instead what comes out is “You left me last night.”

#john price x reader #price x you #pregnant!reader #john x love #zombie au #post apocalypse #lmfao I can just imagine john being all puffed up and oh so proud of himself and then Love is just like ‘you motherfucker D:’ and he’s all #my writing

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utterlyotterlyx · 9 months ago

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A Fate Inked In Starlight

Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel

Summary - After crashing into the Autumn Court with no idea who you are, where you are or how you got there, Eris takes it upon himself to hide you and care for you with the help of the Night Court. That is until souls from other walks of life infiltrate Prythian searching for you.

Warnings - mentions of blood, Eris being gentle 🥺, memory loss, kinda arsehole Rhys?x

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Leaves of red and orange peered down at you inquisitively, and the earth was hard and slightly damp beneath you.

You hissed as you moved, a metallic sting coating the inside of your mouth. The world tilted, a dull thumping in your mind swelled behind your eyes and you pinched the bridge of your nose in attempt to centre yourself.

It hadn’t worked.

Looking about, you drank in where you had awoken, soil and an array of foliage welcomed your sight, dark bark held onto browning leaves, some of which floated around where you sat. Light birdsong and the faint chirp of crickets flittered around you with the occasional crunch of dry twigs that snapped under the weight of the mammals that trotted by, not heading much mind to you.

You were clad in some kind of black armour, a second skin that fit you perfectly as it curved around your breasts and hips, the material splitting open in the shape of lightening across your chest where yellow gems and light hummed. Jewelled metal talons were fitted to your fingertips, coated with dry blood that had worked itself into each crevasse it could. You were sure that whatever you looked like was not a pretty sight.

Something had kept you glued to your spot, swaying slightly from the brute force that had clearly been wrecked upon you. From what you had no idea.

From the distance, you heard the beating of hooves against the hard ground, growing louder with each passing moment before a brilliant white stag exploded into the clearing where you were. It was beautiful, those pools of emerald bore into you, there was terror laced behind them, and the stag readied his attack as he lowered his antlers toward you.

“I’m not going to harm you,” you told the creature with an extended hand, an extension of your surrender, “I promise.”

The stag surveyed you, noting the wild hair that had fallen from a once tightly strung braid, the blood that coated your neck and fingers, the bewilderment in your eyes. No, you certainly weren’t a threat.

“I’m not sure how I came to be here. I don’t know where I am,” you continued, as if the stag would be able to answer any of your questions.

The creature relaxed, taking a tentative step forward to sniff the outstretched talons fixed to your fingertips. He huffed and shook his head, one of his hooves tapping against the ground as another sound entered your earshot.

“Dogs,” you said softly, sadness laced in your rough voice that scratched at your throat. “Go. I’ll distract them,” you turned your hand, exposing your palm to him, he rested his snout in it gently, and only for a moment before he bounded away. Leaping over molehills whilst leaving you alone once more.

The barking drew closer and your breath caught in your throat at the obvious number of hounds that approached your position, perhaps mistaking your blood for that of the stags.

They hurtled into the clearing, the hedges and flowers parting for them as they surged through the air and landed in front of you, mouths pulled back and snarling teeth ready to tear you apart. You shuffled back as they circled you, snapping, slobber dripping from their canines causing your heart rate to beat in your ears. Hitting the trunk of a tree, you sighed, realising there were no weapons attached to the leather holsters at your thighs made your current predicament a lot more complicated.

You wouldn’t dream of harming an animal, at least, you thought so.

A flutter of your heart gave way to gentle excitement when you had seen the stag, and even the dogs despite them wanting to turn you into a meal.

A sharp whistle tore their attention from you, pulling them back to the source as he too entered the clearing. His head was tilted to the side and he examined you with a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, assessing if you were a threat or not. Red hair and amber eyes found you, and he approached, splitting his gaze between you and your laboured breathing to the scene around you both.

“Who are you?” His voice was rough but held a stoic calm, the deepness of his words made your hairs stand on edge.

A simple question. Your name. You opened your mouth but nothing came out, you stuttered, eyes wide as nothing came to mind, “I, I don’t know.”

You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Wide doe eyes staring at him in bewilderment, he knew your skin would be soft despite the mud and blood coating your surface. The sharp jaw and hallowed cheeks, full pouted lips and an elegantly pointed nose. Too beautiful for a human or fae.

The confusion etched into every inch of your features made the man relax a little, he knelt before you, his dogs happy with wagging tails brushing against his side, “Do you know where you came from?” By the looks of your armour, the blood coated talons, and the cuts dug into the side of your neck, it was clear to him that you weren’t from Prythian. You looked too advanced for his world.

You shook your head, muttering a faint and weak answer to him.

He hummed, reaching to tuck a strand of your dirty matted hair behind your pointed ear. Fae, he noted. Smiling when you didn’t flinch under his touch, he offered a hand to you, it was calloused and rough, but his pressure was gentle and guiding as he helped you from the ground.

“I’m Eris Vanserra, and you’re in the Autumn Court,” he looked down at you through thick lashes and offered a warm smile.

“Eris,” his name fell from your lips and he nodded in encouragement as you familiarised yourself with the sound of it. Yes, you definitely weren’t from his world, if you were, you’d surely cower from his name and the mention of where you were.

A pressure consumed your feet, and you found one of his hounds sat on them, staring up at you with its panting tongue flopping against the side of its jaw, its tail rustling the leaves beneath it as it wagged happily, “That’s enough, Duke,” Eris scolded the hound, rubbing between his ears in a bid to get him to move, “I’m sorry about him.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind,” you smiled, and he noticed the warmth in your eyes, the molten gold and ocean blue that could have him entranced if he wasn’t careful. “I’m sorry about this,” you motioned the air, the current situation you found yourselves in, “I wish I knew what to say.”

“It’s fine,” he frowned slightly as he peered at the still open flesh on your neck that leaked with every heartbeat, “Let me help you with that.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

Eris smirked, “You’re not asking,” he shrugged as he heading back in the direction from whence he came, adjusting his brown jacket which lay over a cream open collared shirt. You weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it before, the well fit pants and shirt, the adornment of fine rings across his digits. Eris Vanserra was clearly someone of high standing, and you felt stupid for not knowing. The disappointment felt foreign to you.

The male looked back at you expectantly, his well kept fiery red hair tousling over his forehead, freckles visible as the sunlight hit his face. “Thank you,” you followed his steps, Duke trotting alongside you like a personal guard.

Once you had made it back to Fir Manor, Eris’ private residence that was home to him and his hounds alone, he insisted that you bathe, that it would be easier for the healer to assess the damage if she could tell what was or wasn’t your own blood.

You didn’t need telling twice, you thanked Eris for the spare clothes, a sheer deep red dress, before you slipped into the bathroom and peeled off your second skin, paying no mind to the marks that littered your forearms and torso, the marks that covered every inch of your body.

It seemed silly. To be so trusting of someone you’d just met. But something told you that Eris wasn’t a threat to you. Something had allowed you to feel safe with him.

You sighed as the hot water worked to relax your muscles, the rest of the world fading away into blissful nothingness.

Rhys was happy.

Finally happy.

A mate and a babe. A family. No danger for the first time in what felt like a millennia.

Rhys watched them, watched his Nyx swaddled into Feyre’s chest as she painted, humming some lullaby to the dozing babe. Light poured into the room from the domed glass and he let a content sigh pass through his lips from where he leaned against the doorframe. Relishing in the sight for a moment longer before retreating back to his office and closing the door with a soft click.

He wasn’t sure where the rest of them were, Mor would be returning from the human lands soon, Cassian and Azriel were surely training, Nesta was probably nose deep in another book in the library with Amren at her side, and Elain was tucked away with Lucien somewhere revelling in their newly accepted mating bond.

Everything was as it should be.

The papers on his desk were too chaotic for anyone else to understand but him, he knew where each treaty lay in the stack, where each letter from a concerned citizen sat, when Az’s countless reports waited for his eye.

Though, one thing caught his eye that definitely hadn’t been there before he’d gone to check on his mate and child. A folded up rip of parchment, singed at the edges with an aroma of wet grass gripping to it.

It reeked of Autumn, of Eris.

Rhys wasn’t worried that the heir had contacted him. They were planning for a better Autumn once Beron handed over his title, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to hear from the eldest Vanserra at all. Scanning the parchment, Rhys felt his interest grow in the words, the vague message that beckoned him to Fir Manor, telling him that someone had dropped into the forest who Rhys may be interested in meeting.

So, the High Lord of the Night Court stalked through the halls, parchment in hand as the clash of swords and jostling laughter flooded his senses. Then he saw them, his two brothers in their training leathers, wide smiles and bruises that would fade within the hour as they jabbed another with playful words.

“Ah, did you call on Rhys to come and save you, Az? How desperate,” Cassian glimmered, his wings rustling and body keeping guard against Azriel’s oncoming attack.

Rhys stepped between them, holding the parchment in the air between his fingers with a smirk on his lips as Azriel to it from him, scanning the words, “With no memory of where she came from?” Azriel questioned, his shadows curling over his shoulders as though they wished to see what held their masters attention whilst he handed the written words to Cassian who pouted about being left out.

“Do you remember the visitor we had not too long ago?”

Azriel smirked at the memory of the redhead scouring through the caves of Prythian, “Bryce?”

“Yes, Bryce.” Rhys sent a glare to Cassian, no doubt still unhappy at his mates willingness to aid the girl, “She too fell into our world out of nowhere, didn’t she?”

Cassian stopped the thought before it could be shared, “Yes, but Bryce knew who she was and why she came here. It seems this woman doesn’t share that similarity,” he turned the paper over in his hand, like some newfound information was going to be inscribed elsewhere.

From the brief information that Eris had sent to Rhys, the woman who had fell into the Autumn had no idea who she was or where she was let alone how she found herself bleeding in a different world from her own.

“Regardless,” Rhys’ eyes glowed at the hidden message Cassian had tried to convey, that maybe this woman had nothing to do with Bryce and whatever war she was fighting on her shores. Though Cassian did have to admit that it was a coincidence that another soul had floated through into their world. “It needs to be investigated. Azriel, you’ll come with me. Cassian, you’ll stay here.”

The pair knew better than to convince Rhys otherwise, Azriel especially knew better than to refuse and potentially put his home and people in danger.

Another invader had dove into his world, his home, and he’d be damned by the Mother if he let another one trick him again.

Authors Note

Hi my loves!

It’s been a while. I know I’m usually a Bridgerton girly but I’m kinda obsessed with everything SJM right now.

So, here we are. My first Maasverse fic 🤷‍♀️

I am wanting to write a series on this so let me know what you think! I’ve been out of the game for a bit 🤍

#azriel #rhysand #cassian #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #feysand #acotar imagine #maasverse #mor acotar #amren acotar #crescent city #crescent city imagine #bryce quinlan

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catsteeth · 3 months ago

Text

The Caged Bird & The Leased Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader Ko-Fi

+:✿ Chapter - 17 ✿:+ Beginning of The End

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Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it.

CW: MDNI, SMUT, fingering, NSFW themes, Sandor “my wife” Clegane, misogyny, angst, VIOLENCE emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage, pregnant reader Word Count: 5.3K

It was early morning. The cold air of the North lingered in your chambers, nipping at your nose and your cheeks. But you found warmth under the thick furs of your bed, and the warm body of your husband who’s arms never left you. You never slept so soundly as when you were in his arms, you always knew you were safe in his arms.

Sandor however never slept well. When he was without you he worried too much for you, and when he was sleeping with you he worried about keeping you safe. No matter how well the castle you slept in was guarded.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK three raps upon your door woke Sandor.

You groaned, stirring slightly from the noise. Sandor’s arms around you tightened slightly, “It's alright, it’s alright.” He soothed you as gently as he could, but for a man with a voice as deep as his it was hardly gentle. Sandor then tilted his head towards the door, “Who is it!” He barked,

His loud shout waking you even more “Sandor…” You whined, pouting your lips and closing your eyes tightly as you curled back up into his chest.

“Ser Leon, my Lord. Pardon the early hour.” Ser Leon said, making Sandor groan, “Lord Tyrion has requested the Lady (Y/N)’s presence.” Ser Leon said cautiously.

Sandor sat up slightly, “What does he want with her?” his voice rumbled in his chest.

“Tis the first meeting of her Lady’s council, my Lord.” Ser Leon said,

That alone woke you up completely, you sat up as if you’d been awoken by a bad dream. You looked over to Sandor, “My-” you began, speaking softly, in disbelief. “My council?” You corrected your tone, beckoning out to Ser Leon beyond the door.

“Yes, my Lady. Queen Daenerys has offered the support of her advisor.” Ser Leon said, his tone lighter now that he was speaking with you.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

After running around your chamber, throwing on the first gown you saw, and forcing your husband to lace it for you. You and he made your way to the great hall.

When you entered you saw Queen Daenerys and Tyrion sitting at the large council table.

You joined them at the table, and your husband stood by your side. As he always did.

The Queen smiled upon you, “I’ll allow the Northern soldiers to aid your fight. And Tyrion will advise your moves. Though I still have my reservations to allow my dragon to go near it.” Her smile faded, “I’ve lost two of my children, I won't lose another.”

“I can understand that.” You nodded, though hoped she would change her mind.

“Well, now that we've settled. What is your plan of action for any surviving Knight of the Vale? Certainly you’ve had time to think this out.” Tyrion began,

“If I should take the Eyrie,” You leaned forwards, leaning your elbows onto the council table, “I want no harm to come to the opposing knights who survive. They’ll leave any limb they lose as payment for their lives and their betrayal.” You looked up at Tyrion, “They shall leave their positions dishonorably, and work as hedge knights. No house will wish to take in a knight who turns on their oaths.”

“A merciful conclusion.” Tyrion nodded.

You nodded in return, then turned to Ser Leon, “Send a raven, to Littlefinger. I’ll meet with him to discuss final terms.”

“And what are those terms?” Tyrion asked,

You turned back towards Tyrion, “My land and titles, or I take his head.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

After your meeting, you and your husband returned to your chambers. You paced the floor, thinking of what possible next steps you would take.

Your husband however sat in the chair of your room, and drank from a pitcher of wine in your chambers. “You’d let the cunts who betrayed you live?” He grumbled,

“Some of them are held captive. Some are confused. Some are just ignorant. None of which are a crime.” You said as you paced the room.

He shook his head, “You should take their heads for it.” He was far too accustomed to the Lannisters' way of punishment.

You stopped your pacing, and faced your husband “That’s not the way I am doing this.”

“And what way are you doing it?” He rasped.

“My own way.” You stepped closer towards him, “You served the Lannisters. The people who took heads for rumors. How much loyalty did it earn them?” His mouth twitched in irritation, “The ones who wish to fight for me will. The ones who don’t, will die in battle. When the battle is won, they’ll be turned loose. Forced to make their own way as a knight who usurped their land and lost. What house will want them then?” You stepped even closer to him.

His eyes trailed over you, and over your swollen belly. “You’ll need people to love you, but that’ll be easy enough. What you need is for these cunts to fear what might happen to them.”

You sighed, “I don’t wish to tyrant over my Land, like a Frey.”

“Do the Freys people love them? Fucks sake, you need both.” He said leaning forward in his seat, “Don’t tell me you never thought of what you’d have done to those cunts who snicker at you. The cunts who talk over you.” He shook his head, “You look at them like you’d like to gut them. I saw that look in Kings Landing enough to know.” He said with a smirk.

“Perhaps.” You huffed, “I mislike when you speak sense.”

“You don’t like being wrong.” He reached out and grabbed your hand. He ran his thumb over your knuckles, “You’ve fed a man to dogs. People won't forget that. But they shouldn’t forget that.”

You placed a hand atop his that held yours, “I lost myself, when I lost you. I did things I shouldn’t have done.” You shook your head.

“It felt good though didn’t it?” He pulled you closer to him, “I can see it in your eyes.” He smirked at you, liking that bit of you, even if you didn’t. “What will you have done to Littlefinger?”

You thought of it for a moment, “Justice.” you said matter of factly.

He shook his head, “There is no justice.”

“There will be retribution.” You said impassively.

Sandor sat back and chuckled to himself. Not that he didn’t take you seriously, but that he did. He knew what you were capable of and was eager to see what you planned to do.

You however paced again. This time thinking if this war was worth it. What if you were not capable of being warden? Of being the defender of the Vale, and the keeper of the Moon Door? Your father did not prepare you for such duties, though he always promised he would. As Hand of the king he was busy attending to the Realm, and not his daughter. Not that you could stop what you started now, but the doubt still lingered in your mind.

Your pacing stopped, “Sandor?” You said softly.

“Mm?” He hummed as he drank from his pitcher.

You turned around to face him, “Do you think I’m not worthy of it? Inexperienced, ignorant, or like those knights murmur.. a whore?”

He got up, and marched over to you with haste, “Don’t you ever say that.” He snapped at you, his tone low and dark. He grasped your jaw in one hand, gentle but firm. He made you look at him in his eyes. If you were anyone, other than you, he would have broken your jaw for saying what you did. “You hear me? You are none of that, and I’ll kill any foul pious cunt who tries to tell you that.” His eyes were wide. “You understand?” You nodded, you’d never seen him like this with you before. “Say it.”

You furrowed your brows, unable to understand why he felt so “I understand.” You said in a plain and cold voice. You were no longer interested in whatever fears you had about the opinions of others or your ability to rule. All that was gone. Now you stared at the face of your husband, somehow surprised by his commitment to you, and his belief in you. It stretched beyond what you thought possible. “Come here.” You whispered, pressing your forehead to his own.

He placed a hand on your swollen belly. You smiled to yourself as he did. Even though your belly had swollen so much, his hand was so large it nearly engulfed all of you.

“Would you be terribly disappointed if it were a girl?” You asked softly, your head still resting against his forehead.

“I don’t care what it is.” His voice rumbled softly in his chest, “I couldn’t be disappointed.”

You placed a hand at the back of his head, holding him close to you “Tell me the truth, are you happy?”

“Do I look unhappy?” He sighed.

“You always look unhappy.” You said softly

He couldn’t tell you how happy he truly was. He couldn’t because he knew that this was never meant for him. He was born to fight and die for the Lannisters. He did none of it. He chose love over duty no matter if he admitted it or not. He couldn’t tell you he would love that child in you more than anything in this world. He couldn't allow himself to be so soft, even in front of you. The only time he would be is when you slept, and his hand on your swollen belly would feel the babe kick. He would smile to himself and feel his cold demeanor fade. He rubbed your belly once more and sighed, “I don’t deserve it, and I might be shit at it. But I’ll keep it safe, cock or no.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You rode into the point where the Vales Reach ended, and the Riverlands began. An empty field, a proper place for final negotiations.

You wore a blue riding cloak, as to not allow the men who opposed you forget who you were. Your husband rode in with you of course. Wearing the black armor you had fitted for him. And accompanied by twelve of your men, ten of Jons, and of course Ser Leon. The ride was hard on you, and the babe. You were coming along well in your pregnancy now. Riding did not agree with you in such a state.

As you approached Littlefinger, you felt your stomach turn. You’d not seen him in so long, and the meer sight of him made you sick. You wanted to jump off your horse and vomit but you’d not let them see you so weak.

“Look at you. You poor thing. Child bearing certainly does not seem to agree with you. Would it be so hard to turn yourself to domestic pursuits rather than a needless war.” Baelish said mockingly.

“Shut your cunt mouth.” Your husband grumbled.

“I see you’ve brought your lap dog to bark for you.” Baelish smirked.

“I speak for myself.” You said, your voice dark and deep. “Terms are simple. Step down now, leave the Eyrie, and return to the Fingers or Kings Landing whichever you prefer. That I have no interest.” Though that might not have been the whole truth. If he did leave, you would have your knights seize him. And he would be dragged to the moon doors to be tried for his crimes.

“And if I do not comply?” Baelish sighed, not taking you quite seriously.

“Your head.” You spoke with venom.

A brief but uncomfortable silence passed, “Bloodshed is unnecessary. I don’t wish for this wedge between us any longer. I gave you a proposal before you were wed, but I don’t wish for war, so allow me to make another. You and your…” Baelish eyed the giant man beside you, who sneered back at him. “Husband may have the fingers. You’ll have the estate, live your lives comfortably.” Sandor scoffed under his breath, “If you should bear sons they’d be my heir so long as I don’t have my own, they’d learn under me, be my ward, begin their instruction of how to lead. If it’s a daughter… Well if I had my own sons she’d marry one of them.” He stated, as if it were a most judicial proposal.

“I’d rather let my sons learn from the whores in your brothels than from a craven cunt like you. And my daughters would eat your sons alive.” Sandor said, his voice dripping with contempt.

After a moment, Baelish looked at you with a smirk, “Charming isn’t he? I see how you fell for him.”

“My first born child regardless of their gender will be heir to my titles. There is naught that will stop you. You won’t stop until one of us is dead. You won’t be content to have me living in Winterfell. Or the Fingers. Or even in Braavos… No… because as long as I live and breathe your station will never be secure. I am the challenge. My child is the challenge. they will always pose a challenge to you as well.” You placed a protective hand atop of your belly, “You won’t stop.”

Baelish looked at your swollen belly, feeling a tinge of jealousy. “A trade then. I give you something of great value-.”

“I know what a trade is.” You sneered, making your husband chuckle under his breath. “There’s only one thing worth more than the East.”

“What is that? Whatever it is, you shall have it.” Baelish asked enthusiastically.

“I want my family back. Jon Arryn, Elorie Arryn, Edmure Arryn, Eddard Stark, Catelyn Stark, Rickon Stark, and Ser Varys Cole… I want them back.” You said, rage fueled grief dripping from your voice, and your eyes, “Do you have that?”

Baelish did not speak for a moment, simply staring at you. Unsure of what to say,

“She asked you a question.” Your husband asserted.

Baelish looked at your husband then back at you, “What you’re asking for is impossible.”

“Then she’ll have your head.” Sandor said with a scowl,

you began to pull your horses reins but then Baelish spoke again. “(Y/N) I beg you once more. I was appointed by the King-“

“That King is dead. And I feel this conversation has become circular and I find no reason or desire to continue it.” You said apathetically.

“Perhaps the reason you and I were not intended. Wasn’t because your father found me disagreeable. Maybe it was because my reign, unlike your own, would outshine his own.” He said boldly, but soon his confidence dwindled, “I don’t wish for your death, nor the death of the babe in your belly.” He shook his head, “I love you (Y/N), just as I loved your aunt Catelyn, just as I loved your mother-” He looked at you with desperation.

You did not speak, only looking at Baelish wishing you would drive a blade into his heart. And your eyes gave away your desire.

“You speak to my wife like that again and I won’t wait for the war to tear your throat out.” He nearly growled at him as he tugged the reins of the large black horse he sat on.

“Very good, Husband.” You smirked and stifled a laugh as you pulled the reins of your own horse, turning away from Littlefinger.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

By the time you’d arrived back in Winterfell it was once again time to have another council meeting. You sat at the head of it, with once again your Husband standing beside you.

Joining the table were some Lords you held no regard for, and of course Tyrion was there to advise you.

You leaned against the table and spoke with confidence, “Northern men, and Eastern men. Together we break even with Littlefinger's men. Assuming he does not employ the aid of other eastern or southern houses.”

“Assuming.” Tyrion said, prompting you to think deeper.

“So we must employ the aid of the eastern houses. They all swore oaths to my house. If they keep their promises we’ll out number Littlefinger easily.” You were confident in your words.

Tyrion nodded but then leaned forward, preparing to add something new to the conversation. “There is one cause for concern in your alliances in the Vale. The hill tribes have steel weapons now.”

“Yes they do. And who provided those to them?” You nodded with a sarcastic smile, then your smile faded. “With my men, the northern men, and the houses of the Vale together, I believe the Eyrie can be penetrated.” You shook your head, “I don’t need the hill tribes blessing to do any of that.”

“Still, with their weapons they’ve become a growing threat towards the people of the Vale, and travelers. If you could neutralize them, you’d gain the support and respect of the other houses” Tyrion explained

“What do you suggest? We kill them all?” You asked stifling a laugh, thinking it was a ridiculous thought.

Tyrion shrugged, “It would be easy enough.They are of little value and have very little experience in warfare. But no. They could be used as a weapon. First we persuade them with honey.”

“The fuck is he talking about?” Sandor rasped, not wanting to hear anything that might be offensive to your honor.

Tyrion spoke cautiously, “The Hill Tribes despise house Arryn. Despise you. But they despise outsiders as well. And I would wager they despise the fact Littlefinger managed to usurp an Arryn before they did.”

You sat back in your seat with a huff. You crossed your arms, “Do you know how many there are? Black Ears, the Burned Men, the Howlers, the Milk Snakes, the Moon Brothers, the Painted Dogs, the Redsmiths, the Stone Crows, the Sons of the Mist, and then there’s the Sons of the Tree.” You sighed, “All of which hate one another. More than that they all hate me and my blood. I am sure this perversion of a succession has only served them as a great jest.”

Tyrion began more passionately in his argument, “Offer them Lands. The Pebble, The Paps, Witches Isle-“

“All of which are homes of seated houses sworn to the rule of House Arryn. If I send fleets of tribesmen to their door, I start a new war. And lose any possibility of alliance.” You said intensely.

“Then what would you decide?” Tyrion huffed.

“You speak of offering the claimed land of people sworn to me to people who wish me dead.” You stifled a laugh, “If you suggested a massacre I’d be more willing.” You looked down, taking his words into serious consideration, “The sisters have been a place of loose hold. Write to all three. Offer protection in return for their alliance. If not then that is where we shall send them.” You finished, about to leave the chamber before a voice interrupted you.

“What of your brother?” Lord Royce said, making his presence known. “He is a boy of five and ten now. And he misses his elder sister dearly.”

You turned to face him, “We were never very close. Hardly a family.” You said stoically

“And yet, all the family he has ever had.” He said. You felt a sting of guilt, having never really given him a thought. “I would suggest, humbly, you seek him out. He would be a powerful ally to have in the eyes of the eastern houses. One ancient house united against their usurper.” Lord Royce said confidently. .

You huffed, “Perhaps you are right.” you said with a somber nodded.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

As you left your small council meeting, you and your Husband took your steps nearly in tandem. A formidable pair.

“My Lady-” Ser Leon said in haste as he approached you quickly, cut off by the brick wall that was your husband who raised an eyebrow at the man as he glared at him.

You looked behind you, noticing him “Ser Leon.” You said in a huffed greeting, looking forward as you continued to walk.

“My Lady-” He continued attempting to ignore the intimidating presence of your husband, “Might I suggest that I represent yourself within meeting the Hill Tribes, and perhaps even in meeting with young Robin as well.”

“I’ll speak to them myself.” You said dismissively, sure of your ability.

“My Lady I am unconvinced that plan of action is the wisest, nor the safest.”

You stopped in your tracks annoyed and frustrated you turned to Ser Leon. You sighed letting your annoyance go. “Very well then. Explain your concerns.” You said with a calm voice and hard eyes.

“I do not doubt your will, my Lady. However I believe the offer may be taken with more confidence, and seriousness if delivered by a Knight.”

Your eyes narrowed, stepping closer to him, “And why would my own words not be taken with seriousness?”

He shifted uncomfortably, and began cautiously “It is only… the gentler sex is-“

You raised your hand, and slapped him across the cheek. Sandor reached for the hilt of his sword.

You stepped closer to him, staring him down, “I fed a man to dogs.” You shook your head. “I am not gentle.” Ser Leon nodded and looked down, “As your lady I encourage you to question my logic but do not ever misjudge my sex.” Your tone was cold as you hissed your words at him, “I am the challenge.” You placed a hand on your stomach, though not taking your eyes off of him, “My child, is the challenge. If you wish for me to allow a threat to my child to breathe and live you’re wrong.” You tilted your head, “If I send a Knight to go and do my bidding, how much of a challenge do I appear to be?”

Without allowing him to answer, you turned and continued to walk. Your husband following behind you.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・

Not long afterwards, as you and your Husband were walking up the halls, Sandor pulled you into a room. As he closed the door, confusing your men on the other side. You looked around the small chambers. It must have been a room meant for spare inventory of supplies.

He pushed you against the cold stone wall, holding you by the scruff of your neck.

“What’re you-Awh” Your words were cut short by his rough and calloused fingers running up your thighs underneath your skirts. As his fingers haphazardly moved your small clothes to the side, they began toying with your cunt, “Mphmm” was the only sound you were able to make before his mouth crashed against yours. Drinking in your moans of pleasure. Both to keep you quiet and because he couldn’t control himself when you used your authority so well.

His fingers entered your core, the feeling so intense you bit down on his lip. But he relished in it. The pleasure was so great as his fingers pulsed against the soft spot inside of you. “You make me proud to be your husband, you know that?” His fingers did not relent continuously pushing in and out of you, “So- fucking- proud.” He growled against your ear.

Your body gave into its pleasure quickly. Being so unprepared for such stimulation. You felt yourself shake as you reached your climax. And thank the gods your Husband was holding you close.

You looked at him with half lidded, relaxed eyes. Wanting to please him the way he did you. You reached for the ties of his breeches.

He grabbed your wrist and tisked at you, “Not now,” He rasped. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you good and hard later.” he groaned as he pressed his hardened cock against your thigh once more. He fixed your hair for you as you caught your breath, “Go on then.” He said with a pat on your ass.

As he opened the door for you, and you stepped out. You looked at the men who waited for you.

“My Lady.” Ser Leon said with his head bowed apologetically.

You looked at him briefly, now with a clearer head knowing what you’d done was wrong. “Apologies.” You muttered before continuing on.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You rode into Runestone, with Lord Royce, Tyrion, and of course your Husband. Though now you were now confined to a carriage as your pregnancy progressed. You weren’t happy with it, but Sandor insisted.

As your carriage came to a stop. Sandor opened the door. He helped you out of the carriage, nearly picking you up. You placed a hand on his chest, “I’ll speak to my brother alone.” You said softly, “If he’s anything like how I remember him, he listens best when spoken to softly.”

Sandor nodded, and watched you as you walked down the hill, making your way to your brother’s training.

“I’ve heard the saying to never give a wench a sword on her blood, but what of one with child?” A tall Royce guard said to the other guards. They all snickered, but your Husband did not.

Sandor turned towards the Royce guards, “The fuck did you say?” He grumbled, as he walked towards the men.

“A bad joke.” Tyrion said, attempting to ease the situation.

The Royce guard however did not take Lord Tyrion's grace, further antagonizing your husband. “The King commanded a man to rule for a reason.”

“Fuck the King. He’s dead. His command is dead. And Littlefinger is a cunt.” Sandor nearly growled.

The man scoffed, “Might be a cunt. But I know she has a cunt. She is a-”

“Careful.” Sandor hissed, “Careful how you end that.” His eyes narrowed.

A smaller guard stepped towards the taller one, “You heard what he did to that knight in Winterfell. Broke his jaw clean off the hinges one blow.” The smaller guard warned. The taller man however, looked back to Sandor, as if he had a chance at besting him.

“I’d listen to them.” Tyrion said, not wanting a physical fight to occur during your first attempt of creating an alliance.

The man however, did not listen, continuing, “The Arryns have long stood with the Baratheons, the Lannisters, the Crown. Obeyed their orders. Now, she’s let Valemen die for the Starks after the Lannisters sided with the Botlons.”

“Enough-“ Tyrion began,

“Let him talk.” Sandor said calmly, his eyes staying on the man.

The man took a confident step forward, “You abandoned your duty to the Lannisters. And she abandons her duty as a woman twice now. Only giving in now. Some think of it as peculiar.” He said with a mocking grin.

“And what do you think of it?” Sandor stepped forward, biting his lip. Begging for the man to give him a reason to do what he so desperately wanted to do already.

The man grinned, stepping forwards “She’s not a Queen. She cannot do as she pleases. I bet you bloodied that pretty white cloak with her maidenhead. No, she is no queen and now she’s no lady, she is a whore.”

With a growl and his armored fist, Sandor punched the man in the mouth. He did just as he had done before, with one blow he broke the man's jaw. But with the next blow he shattered the man's nose, and his last blow breaking his teeth.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

As you walked down the small hill, you saw your brother sparing with another boy near his age. You were thrown off slightly by how much he had grown. He was nearly a man now. You felt dread, you never felt close to Robin, and never even felt related. But now at a time like this, you needed to make this alliance.

“Brother.” You said beckoning out to him.

He turned around quickly at the sound of your voice. “Sister!” Robin said with a smile, he dropped his wooden sparring sword and ran into your arms.

You were somewhat startled by the gesture, “I did not think you would be happy to see me.”

He looked down, feeling somewhat guilty, “I was an awful child. Weak, and sheltered.”

“I was an angry child.” You smiled softly at him, you looked him up and down, noticing how tall he has grown, “You are nearly a man grown it would seem.”

He smiled, though his smile soon faded. “I should tell you.” He said more stoically, “Baelish has come to me. Offering to make me his heir.”

You rolled your eyes as you stifled a laugh, “Funny, he offered my unborn child the same.” You smiled at him half heartedly, attempting to find the humor in such a situation.

Robin however did not smile back. His expression was a guilty and worried one. He pulled out a dagger from his belt, previously covered by his cloak. “He gave me a dagger to kill you with if you ever came to see me.”

You put your hand on top of his, making him halt his actions. “If my husband sees you pull a dagger out he’ll kill you before you can explain why you have it.” You said with narrowed eyes. Slowly you removed your hand. Extending it towards your hand towards him, “Give it,” You commanded, he hesitated, “It’s alright. I will not hurt you.”

So he obeyed you. Placing the handle of the dagger in your hand. He huffed disappointed in himself. “I did not wish to hurt you, sister.” He shook his head, “I also have no desire to hold power over the Vale.”

You took the dagger and placed it in your belt, “That is a relief.” You sighed. You looked at Robin who was still looking down, shamefully. You placed your hand on his cheek, “Robin, we’ve only one another now. And a pretender has driven us out of our home. Either to ward for house Royce, or attempted through a marriage to the Boltons.” You continued, “I’ll have Ser Leon, knight you. And once we kill the pretender you shall be Lord of the Fingers.”

“Baelish offered me the same.” He said, clearly uncertain of what the right choice was.

You spoke slightly harsher, “Robin, you’ve no reason to support me. But I believe that Baelish has no intention of making you or my child heir, or lord or lady of any land. He’ll do to us as he did our father, and your mother.” You said with hard eyes, “I believe that if I have your support, I can get our home back.” You asserted.

He nodded, “You have it,” he said confidently. His eyes wandered behind you, seeing a large and tall man off in the distance. Looking down at you and your brother. A man with half his face burnt, and his knuckles bloodied. “Is that your husband?” He asked with a frightened expression.

You looked behind you, seeing your Husband. You smiled softly, “Yes he is.” You looked back to your younger brother, who still looked frightened. “He’s not so bad once you get to know him.” you placed a hand on the cheek of your brother. Looking at his face, studying it slightly, “You look so much like father.” You said softly with a smile, to which he then wrapped his arms around you once more.

Perhaps this alliance would not be such a difficulty.

Atop the hill where Sandor stood, watching down upon you protectively. Tyrion approached him from behind.

“Seems the man will live.” Tyrion said with a sarcastic cheerful tone.

Sandor huffed, “If I’d an ax I'd have his head.”

Tyrion tilted his head and furrowed his brow, “Not sure that would be the wisest option.”

“Not going to let some cunt in armor spew foul shit about my wife.” Sandor sneered.

“That little scene could harm how the Valemen see her.” Tyrion explained passively.

Sandor looked at Tyrion defensively, “Hope so. Now they’ll know to hold their tongue.”

“Perhaps you should show a little more restraint.” Tyrion said cautiously.

“I showed it when you stumbled to our table drunk. When you shouted about the babe in her fucking belly.”

Tyrion squirmed uncomfortably for a moment, “If I bother you so much why don’t you just cut me down? It’d be easy enough.”

“There was a time I would have. She wouldn’t like it.” Sandor sighed, disappointedly.

“You must love her.” Tyrion said, looking at the Hound as if he were a riddle to solve.

Sandor looked down to Tyrion, “You have your honor. And I have mine.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

NOTE:

is this too heavy on war? idk anymore yall. And srry for the short smut scene. it’s just smth sweet for the readers.

K love you, xoxo

Bambi

Beloved Tags:

@dontfollowjuststuff @merfic @broadsdrinkwhisky @vikingswhore0

@the-queen-of-sorrows @eddiesbongwater @not-neverland06 @symonedoesart

@wyvernnest @bdudette @frosch-thefrog @patrick-hockstutter @vikingswhore0

@drymushroomfics @dream-a-little-nightmare @lavenderbreeze3 @hotvillianapologist

@childofheresy

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drysdalesworld · 10 months ago

Text

completely serious

jamie drysdale x fem!hughes!reader

ik the third pic is him wearing a ducks jersey but there’s nothing really of him in flyers gear that fit what i was looking for, so let’s just pretend <3

y/n.hughes just posted!

liked by trevorzegras, jackhughes, and more

y/n.hughes: to a new era baby! hope philly treats you well 🧡🧡 (please take care of him flyers or i will violently cry)

tagged: jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers

( loading comments ! )

trevorzegras: i too will violently cry

lhughes_06: so this is where you took your impromptu trip to

y/n.hughes: & what about it

userone: still can’t believe it tbh 😭

yourbestie: she very much will! philadelphiaflyers

yourroommate: she cried upon hearing the news

philadelphiaflyers: we will take great care of jamie! do not worry 🧡

philadelphiaflyers: we will make sure to water him daily & make sure he gets enough sunlight 🫡

usertwo: stopp!! the way they are describing him as a house plant 😂 i cant

mfrost16: we’ll take him out on walks too!

userthree: now he’s a dog 😭😭

userfour: i mean he did bark his first game with the flyers userthree

jackhughes: i will not be picking up the pieces if she starts to violently sob

lhughes_06: you never do

_quinnhughes: i do that

_quinnhughes: when have you ever done that bro

jackhughes: i feel attacked rn

userfive: the way the flyers flew BOTH y/n & jamie’s parents out for his first game 😭😭 warms my heart

usersix: they did?

userfive: yep! during his post game interview, someone asked if the flyers flew anyone else out for jamie & he said that he wouldn’t play if they didn’t fly y/n out as well! (jokingly of course)

usersix: that’s so freaking cute 😖

jamie.drysdale: i was completely serious userfive

philadelphiaflyers: he, in fact, was completely serious userfive

userseven: UGH GOALS 💞💞

usereight: they’ll treat him well y/n!

jamie.drysdale: i’ll miss you so much love 🤍 i’ll have the flyers fly you out whenever (& if not, then i will)

y/n.hughes: i’ll miss you more!! im so so proud of you & can’t wait to see the amazing things you’ll accomplish in philly ❤️❤️

philadelphiaflyers: y/n’s apart of the team already! we’ll fly her out whenever you want jim! just say the word ✈️✈️

y/n.hughes just posted!

liked by luca.fantilli, masonmctavish23, and more

y/n.hughes: jamie photo dump during these trying & sad times

tagged: jamie.drysdale

( loading comments ! )

trevorzegras: the fifth picture is evil y/n. why you got to do my boy like that? (please send it to me asap)

y/n.hughes: check your messages babes 😚

trevorzegras: bless girl hughes 🙏🙏

userone: another shoe tying pic!!!

lhughes_06: uhhh, why am i not tagged in the sixth pic?? i so graciously taught your bf how to wake board & this is the thanks i get??

y/n.hughes: thank you so much luke for teaching my boyfriend how to wake board & almost kill him in the process 😑

lhughes_06: i am an amazing teacher! he did not almost die

jackhughes: dude, you almost broke his nose when you both went down after YOU jumped on him

lhughes_06: i do not recall such a thing

jamie.drysdale: i will let the fifth picture slide just this once bc i miss & love you so much 🥰 (also, almost died in the last pic 💀)

jackhughes: SEE!! lhughes_06

lhughes_06: 🎶 i cant see i’m blinnndddd🎶👨‍🦯

y/n.hughes: love & miss you more 🤍🫶🏼

_quinnhughes: the lake house that summer will forever be burned into my brain

usertwo: in a good way? 😀

userthree: THE FUCKING ‘I ❤️ MY GIRLFRIEND’ TSHIRT 😫😫😫😫😫

yourroommate: i specifically remember the first pic like it was yesterday

userfour: babes spill! what happened!!

yourroommate: y/n was not having a good week so jamie flew out for the weekend & showed up with flowers & wearing that exact shirt userfour

yourbestie: he said, and i quote, “i saw this shirt on tiktok & though you’d like it” & y/n proceeded to cry :) userfour yourroommate

y/n.hughes: why am i and my bf being exposed in this comment thread?? 🙃

userfive: WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE GOLF PIC 😫😫

y/n.hughes just posted to their story!

caption: from #6 to #9, here’s to new beginnings! jamie.drysdale

#drysdalesworld works!#drysdalesworld #hockey #hockey x reader #nhl x reader #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x hughes!reader #jamie drysdale x reader #social media au #smau #hughes!sister #hughes!reader

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aether-starlight · 9 months ago

Text

Those Eyes - Rafayel

Pairing: Rafayel x Reader

Warnings: None.

Summary: Rafayel takes up on your offer to hang out and something of his catches your eye.

Word Count:��1k

For all Rafayel complained about hunter’s lack of refinement, you were quite an avid reader. He watched you get through half of your book in one afternoon, brows creased in concentration.

It was something fantastical, a journey amongst strangers with a common goal who would later become friends.

He supposed that if the core of you could be described by a book, it would be something like that.

Meanwhile, he had been painting —not studying you and following your mannerisms like a total weirdo, not at all.

Since that time you had realized your face was on his canvas —he underestimated your artistic eye— he had settled for details. Pieces of you he could keep only for himself.

His current work had the expressiveness of your eyes, it swirled in the color of your irises and dipped into your pupils.

To most, it probably appeared abstract, perhaps sand slipping down or crashing waves, the bark of a tree, a midnight sky.

To him, it was another attempt at unraveling you. He wanted to find the soft center of who you were, brush against your sharp side.

There was a secret at the edge of your lips and he wanted to hear all about it.

He imagined that kissing you would feel like drifting at sea, fresh water easing the blazing sun as all earthly burdens dissolved into salt water.

And yet, here he was, sitting across from you, making a total fool of himself.

“You know, I met the author,” he feigned nonchalance, gesturing at the book cradled between your hands. “Had a nasty habit of interrupting people.”

“As opposed to talking all the time?” You raised an eyebrow, smirking to yourself. You were way too smug about your own jokes.

“You know, there was a time when you were actually polite to me.”

“It wasn’t you, per se. It was AI you.”

“Tomato, tomahto.” He shrugged.

Your gaze drifted from him to the canvas.

“I like your painting,” you praised, uncharacteristically. “I don’t know why, but it feels like longing.”

Rafayel felt the tips of his ears begin to burn. He coughed.

“You think?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, resting your cheek against your hand, draped over his sofa like a lazy cat. “Are you going to auction it?”

“No.” His reply was visceral and much too quick, enough for you to perk up, and close the book on your lap.

It was his eternal curse; when he wanted you to pay attention to him, you ignored him. When he wanted you to pay him no mind, you were like a hound dog on his trail.

“Why is that?” You feigned to be casual.

“Artistic reasons you wouldn’t begin to understand,” he primly smiled at you.

“Uh huh.”

You stood from the sofa, stretching a little before coming to sit by his side on the stool. It was a tight fit.

He liked everything about it.

How cozy you looked, out of your hunter’s uniform, barefoot and dressed comfortably. The way sunlight bathed down your hair like a cascade of gold.

Most of all, he enjoyed the openness in your gaze when it met his.

“What if I want to buy it?” You pouted. “Not even a painting for your bodyguard?”

Rafayel felt himself blushing.

“This?” He scoffed. “You have seen nothing yet, Miss Bodyguard. I’ll make you a painting the size of your bedroom wall.”

“I don’t care about the size.”

His eyebrows raised suggestively.

“Dick.” You slapped his arm.

He laughed.

“You make it too easy. Give me a week and I’ll have something for you,” he offered.

“But I want this painting.”

Rafayel was mystified.

An idea surged.

He smiled beatifically at you. You narrowed your eyes.

“Alright. I’ll give it to you under one condition.”

“I’m not posing naked for you.”

“Yeesh, what kind of artists have you met before? It’s nothing like that.”

He felt just a bit scandalized, and if the idea of you posing for someone else made something ugly sprout at his chest, then it was nobody’s business.

“Then what is it?” You pressed, impatience laced into your voice.

He leaned closer, until you could discern the light freckles grazing his cheeks.

“Tell me why you want it.”

You blushed furiously, sliding away from him in an instant.

“I told you, didn't I? I like it.”

Rafayel pressed closer, positively glowing at the opportunity to tease you.

“Why do you like it then?”

He smelled like a fresh breeze, and every time he was near, you swore you could hear a distant song over crashing waves.

He was driving you insane.

“Fine.” You shifted closer to him, a silent challenge.

It might have been your imagination, but his pupils seemed to dilate. “I want it because… I know what it is.”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked, openly curious.

His breath brushed your cheek, a reminder of the strawberries he had been eating absentmindedly while working.

You kept your attention nailed to the swirls of color. They harmonized, brought each other to life in a way that was both fantastical and realistic.

“I can recognize my own eyes, Rafayel.”

This time he was the one to blush furiously, quickly stuttering: “Narcissistic much?”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong.”

“You wish.”

He choked back another cough. Dressing himself on his flirty bravado.

“And what if it were? Why would you want a painting of your eyes?”

“I like the way you made them so expressive.” You looked down and mumbled: “How they feel.”

“About what?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, fish boy.”

“Admit it, you’re just obsessed with me.”

You scoffed.

“I’m not the one crafting paintings of you.”

Rafayel offered you a look filled with promises of trouble. Beneath the sunlight his irises seemed more rouge than mauve, they were like a sunset reflected over sea water.

“But I bet you fantasize about it.”

“That made no sense.”

“For someone who wants something from me, you’re being incredibly crass,” he complained. “You’re definitely getting nothing.”

The next day he gifted you the painting and refused to let you pay for the delivery.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x you #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace fic

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 19 days ago

Text

a/n: in my william nylander era ❤️‍🔥 a little hurt/comfort to ease in before we get to the fun stuff (aka smut). i had so much fun writing this and i’m excited to share the upcoming stuff with you guys! hope you enjoy and let me know what you think 😊

word count: 2.5k

tw: brief dirty talk (literally one line at the end), mentions of vomiting

summary: you didn’t realize william was home with a migraine, but now that you’re home from work all you want to do is take care of him

Pablo and Banksy meet you at the door when you come in after work, tails wagging. You grin and drop to your knees, scratching behind their ears and avoiding the licks to the face.

“Hi, puppies! You’re such good puppies and I missed you,” you coo in the baby-talk voice you use with the dogs that William teases you about. The dogs bark a little, excited for all the attention you’re giving them. You plan on walking them quickly and then heading over to the arena for the game.

William’s already been gone for a few hours and you know the dogs are probably antsy for another walk.

“Give me one minute to change,” you scratch at Pablo’s head, kissing Banksy on the forehead. “And I’ll be ready to go with you.”

You give each of them another scratch between the ears and stand up, kicking off your heels and dropping your work tote to the floor. Banksy immediately noses at it, finding the granola bar you’d eaten half of on the TTC. You yelp and nudge him out of the way with your foot, reaching down to yank the wrapper from his mouth.

“Hey! Menace, these aren’t for you,” you chastise gently, reaching for the bag of dog treats on the counter and tossing one to each dog. “I don’t even know why I’m rewarding that behavior, sir, but mind your own snacks.”

Banksy looks up at you with big puppy eyes and you shake your head, muttering, “you’re just like your dad.”

Dogs settled, you head for your bedroom to change into your game clothes and sneakers. You hum the chorus to ‘Espresso’ under your breath, unbuttoning your shirt with one hand and reaching out to flip on the bedroom light with the other. The light is suddenly bright and your vision adjusts to see a lump in the middle of your bed.

A lump that groans and you shriek, hand clapping over your chest before flying up in a defensive position.

“Oh my god!” You yelp, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“S’me,” William groans from bed, sticking his hand out from the top of the covers and waving it lazily. “S’just me.”

“Jesus,” you mutter, breathless and heart still pounding erratically. “You’re supposed to be at the arena, what’s going on?”

It’s a stupid question, you realize in the next second, your boyfriend is obviously suffering from a migraine. You hit the dimmer switch on the lights and your bedroom is quickly darkened, just a soft light making it easier for you to see so you don’t crash into furniture.

William mumbles a ‘thanks’ from under the covers and your heart twinges for him. You get changed quickly, into comfortable sweats and a long sleeved shirt, since you don’t have to go to the arena now, you abandon all plans for looking cute.

“Do you need anything?” You murmur, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching a hand out to caress William’s forehead and cheek. He leans into your touch like a cat, lines furrowed on his forehead. He’s a little warm, but that’s probably because he’s buried under the thick covers. “Did you take your pill?”

He hums a faint affirmative and pokes his face out from under the covers. He looks pale and nauseous, a faint grey tinge to his cheeks. “Took ‘em, but then I might’ve puked ‘em up,” he winces.

You card your fingers through his hair softly, hoping it’s a soothing motion. “How long ago?”

“Couple of hours?” William presses his face into the pillow, eyes screwed tightly shut. “Had to leave morning skate early.”

“Why didn’t you text me?” You ask, knowing it had to have been a bad migraine for William to leave skate and miss the game. He hasn’t had a bad one in a while, so you’re sure this must’ve knocked him on his ass. “I would’ve come home and worked remote to take care of you.”

“Thought I could sleep it off,” he mumbles, scooting a little closer to you and wincing when the movement jostles his head. You close the gap between your bodies and sit cross legged on the mattress next to him, stroking his hair. You’re not sure if it’s helping, but it doesn’t seem to be hurting. “Threw up at practice, so I should’ve known it was going to be bad.”

You hum sympathetically. “Did you sleep? Eat?” You know he just has to ride out the migraines sometimes, but you want to make sure he doesn’t get dehydrated or hungry since that’ll just make it worse.

“Yeah, I got a couple of hours. And I ate some toast earlier,” he confirms, reaching out to wrap his arms around your leg and rest his head on your lap. You scratch lightly at his scalp and he groans low in the back of his throat.

“Scoot back to the pillow,” you murmur. “I’m going to get you some Gatorade and a snack.”

William whines a little like a kid, but moves back into his spot. You lean down a press a kiss to his temple.

“I’ll be right back, okay, käraste?” You murmur against his skin. William nods and you press the covers in around his torso before climbing carefully off the bed and padding out of the room. You tug the door shut behind you and corral the dogs so you can take them with you on the quick walk to the deli down the block. They won’t be getting the longer walk that they need, but something is better than nothing.

You’re back a few minutes later with the handles of the plastic bags digging into your fingers and two dogs circling your feet. They definitely need a longer walk so hopefully you can take them out again after you get William all settled. Your heart hurts to know that he’s been suffering all afternoon even though he’s an adult and has dealt with migraines for so long.

Quietly, you poke your head back into your dark bedroom, holding your breath so you don’t wake him, if he’s asleep.

“I’m awake,” he says, a faint laugh in his tone.

You sigh. “I’m sorry, I thought you might have fallen asleep,” you step inside, closing the door on the dogs so they can’t come in and bother him.

“No luck,” he laughs again and you can hear the strain in his tone. You settle everything you brought on the night table and climb up onto the bed next to William again. He presses his cheek against your outer thigh and wraps a hand around your knee. “Stay with me?”

“Of course,” you murmur. Sometimes he wants comfort, sometimes he can’t stand to be touched. You like when you get to curl up with him since it makes you feel like you’re helping a little bit. “How about some Gatorade and a little snack first? I brought the ice wrap too.”

He doesn’t put up much of a fight and struggles up into a sitting position, wincing while he moves. His face has pillow creases on it and his hair is both matted down and sticking up at the same time on one side. William looks like a cranky toddler and it’s adorable.

“Not that hungry,” he warns you, even as he accepts a banana and the icy bottle of Gatorade.

“Eat what you can,” you shrug, picking at the sandwich you’d ordered for yourself. William looks over at it with pleading eyes and you snort a laugh, holding it out for him to take a bite from the corner. “Drink the Gatorade too.”

He smiles at you around the mouthful of sandwich, chews and swallows, before gulping back half of the Gatorade in one gulp. A little bit of the color returns to his face and you’re happy to see it, offering your sandwich to him for another bite.

“Thanks, älskling,” he replies and rests his head on your shoulder, breaking off pieces of the banana to eat. You eat half the sandwich in quiet and William polishes off the banana and Gatorade.

Not hungry, your ass.

“Want the ice cap?” You ask, knowing he hates it but that it does help.

William shrugs. “No? But you’re going to make me wear it anyway, aren’t you?” He presses a kiss to your shoulder to punctuate his question.

You grin even though the room is dark. “Yes, it helps and you know it,” you retort, shifting to grab the ice cap off the night table. You gently tug it over William’s eyes, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose once it’s in place. He wrinkles that same nose at you, but his lips curl up in a softly relieved smile and his shoulders loosen and drop their tension.

“Better?” you murmur, rubbing at the back of his neck with light fingers.

He hums and shifts down on the bed, dropping his head to your lap. The wrap is cold against your leg, but William tucks his hand under his cheek and lets out a little sigh, so you run your fingers over his head and neck, keeping the tension at bay.

After a few minutes, William’s breathing slows and evens out, his head getting heavier on your lap. He’s passed out, his mouth hanging open slightly. You keep stroking the back of his neck, just to make sure he’s really asleep, fingers moving absently. William lets out a soft snore that rumbles through your thigh.

You smile to yourself and settle back against the headboard, grabbing your phone and tapping open the Kindle app. With any luck, William will get in a nice long nap, even if that means you’re stuck here for a bit.

Three hours later, when William finally stirs, stretches, and wakes up, your ass is numb and you’ve polished off the remaining half of your sandwich. You also finished the rest of the psychological thriller you’d been reading and made decent progress on a celebrity memoir.

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” you murmur down at your boyfriend when he shifts and pushes the ice wrap off of his eyes.

He’s a little unfocused, but blinks a few times and smiles slowly at you. “Hey,” his voice is hoarse from sleep, but his face doesn’t have the tension from earlier. You can see that he’s more relaxed now. “How long was I out?”

“Three hours,” you take the wrap from him, now nearly hot from William’s body heat, and toss it on the night table. “Do you feel better? You look better.”

“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both hands over his face before sitting up. You shake out your legs, the numbness already starting to fade and the pins and needles sensation trickling in. You wince and wiggle your toes, painful as the nerves all start to come back online.

William notices and frowns, “oh shit! Swing them up here,” he pats his lap, “I’ll get the blood flow circulating.”

“I’m okay,” you laugh, wiggling your legs around. They’re already feeling better. “Do you want some dinner? I know it’s a little late, but you’ve got to be hungry.”

Despite your protests, William’s grabbed your feet and dragged them onto his lap, digging his thumbs into the balls of your feet and your arches. You sigh and melt back against the pillows, twitching your toes at him when he tickles at your ankle.

“Maybe in a bit,” he concedes. “Can we take the dogs for a quick walk? I think I need some fresh air, honestly.”

It’s an easy request to agree to and a few minutes later, you’re both geared up in jackets for a walk. Banksy and Pablo freak when they realize they’re getting another walk, jumping around before settling to prance around yours and William’s legs on the stroll down the street. William laces his fingers with yours and you let your arm bump against his while you walk.

“I’m sorry your night was ruined, älskling,” William murmurs. “I know you were looking forward to hanging out with the girls.”

You wave him off. “I don’t mind. I just feel bad that you felt bad. Seeing you all laid out like that, it’s tough knowing there’s nothing I can really do to help,” you shrug, frowning slightly.

William laughs warmly, the familiar sound washing over you. “You help so much,” he leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, stubble scratching at your skin. “The migraines suck, but I like knowing you’re there even if I’m just napping in your lap.”

“You are really cute when you’re asleep,” you tease, laughing.

“I’m really cute when I’m doing other stuff too,” he winks and you snort, nudging at his leg with your interlocked hands.

“How about you get to a point where passing under a streetlight doesn’t make you squint and wince in pain before making moves?”

William looks affronted. “I don’t need to keep my eyes open to make you come, älskling,” he grumbles, stopping in his tracks and dragging you to his chest, catching your hip with his free hand and pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss. You whimper into the kiss and William’s lips curl up in a delighted smile.

“You need to rest,” you murmur against his lips when the kiss ends. “I know you want to get back on the ice.”

Banksy barks, distracting you both for a moment. William whistles for the dogs and they come trotting over to sit at your feet. Your boyfriend grins at you, “how about we rest on the couch?”

You start the walk back to the apartment, smirking at him. “What’s your definition of rest, Mr. Nylander?”

William’s eyes twinkle under the streetlights. He still looks a little tired, but so much more alert. “Well,” he draws out the word, “I’ll sit on the couch, won’t even move since you want me to rest.”

“Mhm,” you hum, knowing there has to be more. “And where will I be?”

“Your favorite spot,” William continues, almost nonchalant, squeezing your fingers in an absent pattern, “on my lap, your perfect pussy keeping my cock warm.”

Your body heats at his words, the low tone they’re delivered in, your clit twitching a little. You blink innocently at him, fully ignoring the way your cunt throbs and the way your panties grow damp.

You pretend to think it over, humming faintly before saying, “I guess, if you promise to be very good and rest…I don’t see an issue with that arrangement.”

“I promise, älskling,” William vows, pulling you close so he can kiss the side of your neck while you’re stopped at the corner. “Won’t move an inch, I swear.”

He nips lightly at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and you know he’s certainly not going to be on his best behavior, but you can’t find it in you to mind.

Not when William’s pressing his bulge against the curve of your ass and laughing against your skin as if you’re in the bedroom and not in the middle of the Toronto sidewalk.

The light changes and he rushes you across the street, laughing loudly. You trip along behind him, giggling, glad to see him feeling better and ready to help him get all the way back to one hundred percent.

——-

#william nylander #william nylander x reader #william nylander x you #william nylander fic #nhl fic

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 27 days ago

Text

Hold it - pt 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x afab!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 2283

Rating: +18, absolutely NSFW, and please mind the tags

Warnings/Tags: pi$$ kink, smut, pwp, reader has no description other than having breasts and vagina (pic in the banner is just here for the mood), Joel has a dirty mouth (are we even surprised? lol), swearing, pet names (mostly baby), slurs (slut, whore), Joel calls you his pissy slut, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (do better irl!), slight degradation, soft!dom Joel, sub!reader, cream pie, panties sniffing and “stealing”, orgasm/bladder control, hair pulling, praise kink, as explained in part 1 they’re not a couple, they just fuck, again I’m ovulating and feral so here’s another thing entirely written with my cunt 🔥

As usual, English is not my first language, I have no beta and I tried to edit as best as I can, If you find any errors please forgive me.

Part 1

Just skip it if this is not your kind of thing, thank you very much.

Hope you’ll like it!

You leave work at 6, catch the bus as it was about to leave. Joel expects you at 6:30 and you know he doesn’t like it when you’re late. Everything was fine until the bus was stuck in traffic. You groan, looking out the window at a seemingly endless line of cars and then up at the leaden sky and pray it won’t start raining.

Ten minutes later you are losing hope. The rain begin to pour down and the traffic show no signs of letting up. Joel must be furious, you think. And what is worse is that you feel a weight on your bladder. You have to pee. You try to control your breathing, to not think about it, you try to concentrate on the music you are listening to but it’s no use. The rocking of the bus gently stimulates your cunt and every bump in the road makes you think you are losing control.

The sound of the rain doesn't help even.

You arrive at Joel’s at 7:00, darting through the bus doors, running to the end of Joel’s street, banging on the door as you press your thighs together, half tempted to put a hand between your legs if it weren’t for the people walking by.

Joel throw open the door and bark “Where the hell have you been?”

“Sorry, it was the traffic, I swear. And that damn bus! Please forgive me”.

Joel is about to reply that he doesn’t give a damn about your apology but then he notice how desperately you are clenching your legs and his mouth instantly twist into a sly smile “Do you have to pee?”

You feel your cheeks burning, he noticed it immediately. You were hoping to be able to sneak into the bathroom with an excuse because you know damn well what is going to happen. And you feel like your bladder is too full and stimulated by the slow pace of the bus to have time for that. You are done for.

“Please, Joel,” you mutter, looking down at the wood of his porch. Joel doesn’t let himself be moved, instead he smiles even more mischievously than before in front of you, mortified as you try to find a way to convince him to let you use the bathroom.

He steps away from the door and motion for you to come in, closing the door behind you, but when you try to run to the bathroom he stops you by grabbing your arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Joel, please!” Your voice come out squeakier and more high pitched than you intended but at that point you don’t care, you just want to let go and if you have to beg to do that you’ll do it.

“Please,” you repeat, pouting and giving off your puppy dog look.

“No,” he simply replies.

Is he going to make you wet yourself in his living room?

“You’ll do something for me first, since you arrived late and then - maybe- I’ll let you go”

You’re shaking from the weight on your bladder but he’s adamant.

“Get down on your knees”

You look at him with wide eyes babbling “Joel I can’t”

“Sure you can. Unless you don’t want to play anymore. In that case you know what to say and I’ll stop right now. You remember the safe word?”

“Yes” you breath

“Do you want to say it now?”

You think about it for a moment. No, you don’t want to. It’s a kind of torture but you’re excited. You can’t deny how your pussy is throbbing right now, clenching around nothing in a desperate attempt to hold back the pee.

“No”

Joel looks pleased, his darker than usual eyes looking at you with lust “Good girl. Kneel down”

You kneel down obediently before him, eager to have what he wants to give you.

“You are so beautiful when you have hunger in your eyes.”

He smiles at you, cupping your cheek with his hand, and you lean in.

Your breathing is calming a little, even though you still feel the pressure in your lower abdomen it gets a little bit better now that you’re relaxed.

Joel makes you feel comfortable, you know he would never do anything without your consent.

The sound of his belt unbuckling is delicious in your ears, you lick your lower lip in anticipation.

He’s gorgeous, intoxicating, charming in a way you never experienced before.

And you love playing games with him.

His cock pops out of his boxers, hard, a small drop of precum slipping from his tip.

“Suck it” he orders.

You bring your lips closer to his cock, feeling your bladder begging you to empty it, it's a very strong tingling that sends jolts to your clit.

You squeeze your legs, contract your pelvic muscles, you have no choice but to try to send Joel to the edge as quickly as you can.

You love sucking Joel's cock.

It's thick, hot, uncut and tasty…fuck, it's the best you've ever had.

You take it in your hand and start from the base, your tongue flat all the way to the tip and then you swirl around it.

In a second all you think about is its musky taste, its swollen vein, its angry red tip demanding attention.

Joel grunts “mmm yes, my perfect little slut, take it”

He stares into your eyes smirking as you tease his mushroom with little cat licks and then you take it in your mouth, all you can until it poke at your throat. You stay still, just nestling it in your mouth, heavy on your tongue, until gag reflex hits you and you pull out with a lewd pop.

Your tongue slides over the underside of his cock licking at his frenulum, then you move down to his engorged vein and back at his tip, sucking as hard as you can and stroking the base with your hand at the same time.

Joel keeps praising you. “You have to pee so bad, right? Look at you, my pissy whore, holding it so good, sucking my cock like a champ”

His voice is a hoarse growl sending goosebumps all over your skin, your clit is pulsing between your legs and your bladder hurt so hard you think you’re about to pee right there on his dining room floor.

You squirm on your knees, continuing to suck his tip like a lollipop, bobbing up and down on his shaft, he took a fistful of your hair pulling you down until his end touch the back of your throat again.

You shut your eyes at the sudden sensation of your mouth so full of his cock but he’s not happy with that.

He tugs at your hair “eyes on me, pissy slut”

You inhale deeply through your nose, trying to relax your throat, and return your gaze to him. He pumps into your mouth mercilessly, holding you tightly by the back of your head, his fingers buried in your hair.

At this point your quivering bladder doesn't even bother you anymore, you're drunk on his cock.

There's a smug, lecherous smile painted on his face as he pulls out from your lips. “Go on, baby”

You take it back in your hand, greedily sucking the tip with all the breath you can muster.

Your hand moves frantically up and down his length completely coated in your saliva, throbbing hard beneath your fingers.

You suck it obediently and obligingly “Fuck, you’re such a good slut for me” his eyes glassy and his lips curved into a smirk.

“It’s enough”

You pull out and look at him confused “you didn’t come yet” His cock is incredibly engorged and swollen, you don’t even know how he managed to stop.

You held the pee until the end and you don’t even know how you made it but now you feel the strong urge again at the bottom of your belly.

“Joel…can I go now?” you plead

And he shakes his head “I don’t think so”

“Please” you whine

“See baby, I figured out other plans for you while you were sucking me off like the perfect slut that you are” he pulls up his jeans without buttoning them, leaving the belt hanging at the sides

“What plans?!” You sounds distraught and you know it.

He doesn't answer you, he makes you get up and picks you up, bridal style, and carries you to his room.

He dumps you on the bed and you feel a drop of pee escape, you desperately clench to make it stop.

He strips you of your clothes and shoe in an instant, leaving you in a pair of red lace panties and matching bra.

You’re holding with all you have but your bladder starts protesting again, pushing you almost to the edge of losing it.

You bite down your bottom lip at the tingling sensation while Joel roam at your body like a man starved.

“Red huh? So fucking hot” and then he notices the large damp on the front of your panties. “Mmm so soaked, already. You’re going to drip all over me soon”

He takes off your panties and brings them to his nose inhaling your scent “fucking sweet” and then puts them in his pocket while winking at you.

He takes off his boots and clothing all very calmly while you are wriggling on his bed, trying to find a position that doesn't make you feel the urge to pee. It's impossible. You cross your legs and hope he will hurry up and do whatever he wants to do.

“I’’m going to fuck that pissy cunt so nicely, baby and you’re going to be good and hold it until I say so, am I right?” he says while he’s fisting his shaft in his hand.

You nod, completely defeated by his dirty mind.

He sits on the bed and orders “on my cock, now”

You straddle him swallowing air, feeling your pussy adjusting around his cock, one inch at the time, it’s overwhelming the way you’re trying to control your bladder while he’s stretching your other hole.

“Yes, baby, just like that, taking me so well” he purrs.

“Fuck, I can’t” you cry “Please, Joel”

“You can and you will” he replies dryly pushing you onto him holding your hips.

He’s balls deep into you now “See? You made it”

You moan as he commands “Move. Drain my cock, baby, I know you can”

You start moving up and down, slowly, you're so wet and needy you could come right away. Your pussy is sensitive, overstimulated and aching to swallow it all.

You need a release so bad it starts taking over your mind, little beads of sweat tickles down you cleavage as you desperately bounce on Joel's cock.

“Good girl” he’s babbling “such a good girl for me -fuck- baby go on like that”

His fingers are duggin in the tender skin of your hips, holding firmly against him, your hands clinging to his shoulders.

He seems mesmerized by your tits bouncing against his chest while you can't help but stare down at your overstimulated pussy.

You're praying that your bladder will hold up until he gives you permission.

Your clit rubs repeatedly on his sweat-slicked strip of hair just above his cock giving you an extra thrill that is about to send you over the edge.

“Fuck, I’m about to lose it, this is - fuck - it’s insane Joel!”

“Hold it a little more for me, pissy slut, I’m almost there”

He takes a handful of your butt cheeks and groans so deeply it almost scares you.

“I can’t- fuck- Please Joel” you wail.

His cock is hitting you just right, kissing that little spot inside you that makes you feel like you're about to burst.

It sinks into you relentlessly and you finally feel it explode against your walls.

“Here we go baby, come! Come and pee on my cock”

You finally let go and the sensation is inexplicable, you’re full of his cock while a river of warm pee is gushing out of you.

You feel stuffed to the brim and empty at the same time.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you relax all your sore muscles and let yourself be taken over by an orgasm that makes you feel like you're falling into the void.

You cry out his name again and again until your voice break and you can’t do nothing more than clinging to the nape of his neck quivering like a possessed person.

He strokes your back while you hid your face in the hollow of his neck panting loudly.

You’re both soaked, sweaty and out of breath.

“You did so well for me, you’re my perfect pissy slut, so good” he mutters.

He pulls out of you and his softening cock rests against your belly.

“Look at what we’ve done”

You look down shyly, keeping your forehead resting on his shoulder and you see his seed coming out of you placidly and smearing on his thighs mixing with your pee.

It makes your head spin.

“Fuck, Joel, you evil hunk of a man” you moan

“i know baby, i know. You like me this way though, don’t you?” He gently bites at the sensitive skin on your neck.

“We’re all sticky and filthy and I thought I was about to faint but… yeah. fuck, I loved it”

Joel chuckles, stroking your back and continuing his trail down your neck.

You always enjoy walking that fine line between desperation and pleasure, and most of all you enjoy doing it with him.

#joel miller #piss kink #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel tlou #fanfic #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller au #joel miller x afab!reader

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soapybutt17 · 1 year ago

Text

Scary Dog Privilege

Summary: Known as not only the little sister of Colonel Alejandro Vargas and the wife of Sergeant Major Rudy Parra, you were more famous for the fact that you were more feared for your bite than your bark unlike the two boys. Characters: Rudy Parra x Wife!Reader. Alejandro Vargas Word Count: 2,441 Chapter Warnings: Profanities. Big Scary Dog Privilege. Mentions of Violence.

for @glitterypirateduck's Fall4Rudy Challenge Prompt: "Behave"

Masterlist | Request are Open

“Behave you two.”

It was one thing to help Alex and Farah with an upcoming mission, and it was another to realize that the bastard that caused such a mess in Las Almas’ base to be alive and well who also just so happens to still be alive after everyone thought him to be dead. You had accepted that both your brother and your husband would be annoyed by the fact, but their blood was boiling further when they had realized that one Philipp Graves would also be in attendance, returning to the base that he had once tried to overthrow.

“He does anything stupid, I’ll be the first one to blow his head off.” Your husband muttered under his breath but you had heard just as much as your brother.

“Get in line, I got first dibs on the bastard.” Alejandro quipped right back, never once did he try to hide the displeasure of the news of the man’s apparent arrival in a few minutes.

“Behave.” You raised your voice, earning a silence from the two, and the more than evident appreciation from everyone in the team that had been walking on eggshells since the new of Grave’s living state. Alejandro was beside himself and your husband was not much of a help as much as you wanted him to be in placating Alejandro’s temper.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Both had muttered but your attention was glued right back to the helicopter that had just landed and had housed the very man responsible for the two’s foul mood.

“I don’t want to hear anything from either of you from now on. We already have mess with need to deal with, I don’t want this to turn into a bloody massacre if it doesn’t need to be.”

Eventually, the helicopter door had opened and the sight of Commander Farah Karim and Lieutenant Alex Keller had brought a smile on your face. It was only natural to give them a welcoming entrance to Las Almas as you couldn’t depend on the two scary menace of men behind you to do to it.

“I hope your flight here was well.” You began, shaking the pair’s hand before your eyes turned behind them and narrowed at the sight of an all too familiar man that brought all the bad memories back into the surface. “Commander Grave, it’s nice to see you again.”

“No need for the fake pleasantries, Lieutenant.” The man brushed off, a sick smirk playing on his lips. “After all, the last time I was here wasn’t much of a good experience for any of you.”

Just like that, Alejandro was at it again. Spewing curse upon curse at the man in Spanish with Rudy holding him back. You had to rub your temple in annoyance, you had given both Farah and Alex an apologetic look to which both had sympathized over. They both understood the history the man had in Las Almas, but they had no other choice and Graves was the only person fit for the job—as much as you all hated it.

“Behave!” You screamed and two had finally halted and apologized to you and to your two guest.

“Keep your dogs in line, and we will not have much of a problem, Lieutenant.”

Something ticked at the statement and you found yourself pulling your gun out and pointing it towards Graves. You ignored the protest from everyone as you approached the bastard and digging the gun right through his chest, unafraid to pull the trigger if he says anything else.

“Keep that fucking mouth of your shut, Graves.” You spat. “You don’t need to worry about my husband or my brother, cause the moment I find out you’re fucking with us all over again, I’ll be the one to put a bullet through your skull.”

Put the fear of God in the man’s eyes you slowly backed away, immediately, being pushed behind your husband that now becoming calmer and ready to continue on with the discussion that was bound to happen between all six of you.

“Behave, Amor.” Rudy whispered turning behind to look at you with irony.

It seems the Vargas temper was still running strong through your veins. With a deep breath, you finally put your gun back to the holster and waited for the man to say anything else that would give you the privilege to shoot him point blank.

You said nothing now, allowing your brother to pull his head up on his ass and initiate in taking the three visitors into the heart of the base. He had also made sure to make Graves well aware of the fixes they had all done after the damage he had made to the base during the takeover.

You were left with your husband who now had his arm around your shoulder.

“So much for making the two of us behave.” He teased.

“No one calls my boys dogs.” You muttered, after everything you had all been through to make Las Almas safe again from the Cartel, you would kill anyone that would think of anyone as mere dogs. “I’ll kill anyone that hurts you or my brother without hesitation.”

“Cálmate, mi amor.” He chuckled, now pulling you into his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist as you took his scent in. “You mean the world to us and we will do anything and everything to keep you safe, not the other way around.”

“You and Alejandro will hesitate, but I fucking won’t. If that gringo had tried to say anything else I would shoot and ask questions later.” You muttered, chin resting on his sternum, you looked into his eyes, even in the seriousness of your tone, the smile was all too plastered on his handsome face. “I will not hesitate you know. I could still do that right now.”

As you made a plan to step away from his hold, he held you tighter.

“No need for bloodshed just yet. When this mission is over and things get out of hand again because of him, I’ll let you skip the line and shot him first.”

You grinned satisfied with your husband’s compromise.

“This is why I love you.”

“This is why I’m sometimes scared of you.” He muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, Mi Amor. Let’s get back inside and see what Alejandro is up to.”

“Small but terrible that sister of yours.” Grave believed that he still had the right for small talk as all four of them had walked the corridors.

“I’d be more worried about her than any of us, Gringo. She’s like a rabid dog to people like you.”

“What was that, Colonel?”

Graves had watched the Colonel tense at the sound of your voice. Even he was worried as he turned to have a look at you, the all too demented grin on your lips, waiting for him to fuck up. But even more dangerous was the unfazed smile on Rudy’s face as he had his arm around your shoulder—a metaphorical leash to keep you at bay.

Why the fuck was he back here in Las Almas of all places again?

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virtualreader · 1 year ago

Text

broken hearts and healing souls – part 2

deanwinchesterxfem!reader

summary: a few days after the unexpected events that took place on the night of your biggest argument, Dean has a nightmare. And both of you are forced to face the feelings you had pushed aside.

word count: 2,1k.

warnings: nightmares, mentions of anger, kiss, regretful Dean.

part 1

a/n: you've been asking quite a lot for a second part for this fic, so here it is. I'm not entirely satisfied with the ending, but I still hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. also, as the part 1 was based on a song, i opted to base part 2 in another one — I’ll be good - James Young.

Another hunt, another city, and yet another sleazy motel room. But you and Dean still hadn't exchanged more than the essentially necessary words.

Ever since that night when you kissed, Dean had been ignoring you with perfectly applied silent treatment, as if you had turned into a ghost. Not that it was totally bad, a part of you preferred not facing the real issue.

Bringing the matter up would be like tearing off a scar, like reopening a wound that had never even closed. Blood would ooze from the raw, exposed skin, once again, and the pain would return, and it would hurt the same way it did when hearing those words escape his mouth: ‘this was a mistake’.

However, another part of you, though small yet present, longed for things to return to normal. To joke around with Dean again, like the time when he had made a hilarious impersonation of the local parish priest, and you had laughed until your stomach hurt. To get ingenuously mad with him for teasing you just because you were younger than he was. Damn, if you could go back in time you would have simply avoided that first argument altogether.

You stared at the ceiling, moisture stains here and there and the paint that once covered it, flaking off, revealing the rough surface underneath. Perhaps it had once been a grand and luxurious space, filled with beautiful furnishings and ornate decorations. But now, it was a shadow of its former self, a tired and worn-out shell of a room.

You should have known better. Hell, you did know better. You just didn't want to acknowledge the fact that he had no romantic feelings towards you and never could. You had become a part of the Winchesters' family a long time ago and grew up with them. Chances were Dean considered you his little sister. How could he be romantically involved with you?

I thought I saw the devil this morning Looking in the mirror, drop of rum on my tongue With the warning to help me see myself clearer

The quietness of the room was only interrupted by the occasional sound of a distant car passing by outside and the desultory barking of a dog nearby. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“What’s gotten into you guys?” had asked Sam the morning after the event, after noticing Dean’s unusual and dismissive behavior.

“None of your business, Sammy.” Dean had replied, not meeting your eyes.

You had tried to talk to Dean several times, but he would always find an excuse to leave the room or change the subject. It was like he was avoiding you, and it hurt more than you cared to admit.

Dean had always been like an older brother to you. You shared so many memories together, from hunting supernatural creatures to simply hanging out and joking around. But maybe, deep down, you wished for something more than just a sibling bond.

Trying to ignore the feeling of emptiness in your chest was hard if not impossible. It was like a piece of you was missing, and you couldn't find a way to fill the void. Knowing this would be the end result, you would never have kissed him.

You may have felt fortunate to find a motel with two available rooms, but your luck ran out when Sam claimed the one with a single bed for himself. So you were forced to share a room with Dean.

I never meant to start a fire I never meant to make you bleed I'll be a better man today

You let out a sigh, feeling frustrated and lonely. You didn't want things to be like this between you and Dean, but you didn't know how to fix it. You knew that you needed to talk to him, to tell him how you felt and try to work things out. But you were scared of what might happen if you did.

You heard a muffled sound coming from the other side of the room. You turned your head to see Dean tossing and turning in his sleep, his face contorted in pain. It was obvious that he was having a nightmare.

With a hand, you tossed the bedsheets along with the flowery comforter away, uncovering your body. You rolled your legs off of the bed and slowly yet surely moved to a sitting position. You tilted your head slightly and tried to take a glimpse of what was going on in the adjoining bed, but failed pathetically due to the scarce lightning.

Feeling concerned, you reached out blindly for the light switch. After a moment of fumbling, you found it and turned it on. The wall-mounted lamp flickered to life, casting a warm, dim light throughout the room. Dean's grimacing expression was now clearly visible, and you hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

“No! No, no!” he growled low, his teeth gritted. “No! Y/n!”

That you were not foreseeing.

You were taken aback by his outburst, not expecting it at all. What could he be dreaming about that would elicit such a strong reaction?

I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should Yeah, I'll be good, I'll be good For all of the times that I never could

Dean was sweating profusely. His breathing was shallow and ragged, and he was muttering incoherently. Waking him up seemed like an idea. Sure, you were mulish, but you were not some heartless monster.

You reached out and gently shook Dean's shoulder, trying to wake him up from his nightmare.

"Dean," you whispered, hoping that your voice would be enough to pull him out of his dreams. “Dean, wake up.”

He did not respond, and just as you were about to try again, he hastily sat up, his eyes wide, and his breathing heavy.

"Y/n?" he asked, his voice shaking. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me," you replied, relieved to see him awake and alert. "Are you okay? You were having a nightmare."

Dean ran a hand through his hair, looking around the room as if he was trying to orient himself.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said finally, his voice still shaking a little. "It was just a bad dream."

Silence took over the place. You stared at Dean, and Dean stared at you, both waiting for the other to speak first. The tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife, and the eerie environment did nothing but add to it.

"Wanna talk about it?" you asked, sensing that there was more to his nightmare than he was letting on.

Dean hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering over to you before returning to the floor. You could sense that he was struggling to find the right words to say, and as the silence stretched on, you began to feel a growing sense of unease.

My past has tasted bitter for years now So I wield an iron fist Grace is just weakness Or so I've been told I've been cold, I've been merciless

"It was about you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

The confession caught you off guard. You were surprised to hear such a heartfelt admission from him.

“Me?” You could feel your pulse quickening as you waited for him to continue.

"Yeah. I dreamed that the demon got to you," Dean continued, his voice still trembling. "That I couldn't protect you. And then...then you were gone."

You felt a lump form in your throat at Dean's words, and you instinctively reached out to place a hand on his arm. Yet, you kept a reasonable distance between the two of you, unsure of how this could alter your current situation. Unsure of whether it could bridge the seemingly unfathomable gap that separated your wounded souls.

"Dean, I'm right here," you said softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

But the blood on my hands scares me to death Maybe I'm waking up today

The mattress dipped while you sat facing Dean.

"I know that," Dean replied, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he woke up. "But...I don't know. It's like I can't shake this feeling that something's going to happen to you."

You could see the fear and uncertainty etched into Dean's features, and you knew that he was struggling with his emotions. It was hard for him to admit that he was scared, especially when it came to you.

But you also knew that you couldn't keep ignoring the elephant in the room. You needed to talk to Dean about what had happened between you, or you would never be able to move forward.

"Dean," you said, your voice steady but firm.

He looked away, his jaw tight and his hands clenched into fists.

"I messed up,” he uttered, deciding to address the matter before you had a chance to gather your thoughts. “I didn’t want us to end up like this.”

"I know," you said softly, your heart aching at the sound of his voice. "But we can't keep avoiding each other like this. We need to talk.”

Dean let out a sigh and his shoulders slumped, his entire demeanor reflecting the weight of the situation. Dean had always been good at avoiding his feelings, pushing them aside in favor of the mission. But this time, he couldn't do that. You both knew that it was time to stop tip-toeing around the issue and get to the heart of the matter.

"I was scared," he admitted. "Scared of losing you. Hell, I still am. That’s why I didn’t want you to go on hunts anymore."

Dean's voice was low and steady, but there was an underlying intensity to it that betrayed the depth of his emotions. He was laying it all on the line, baring his soul in a way that he had never done before.

I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should (oh-oh-oh) I'll be good, I'll be good (I'll be good, I'll be good)

Afraid he would retract on opening up to you, you did not dare say anything, instead you fixated your gaze on his glossy, green eyes, encouraging him to continue. He took your hand in his, and his eyes softened.

“I don't think about you as a kid. It's just that…when you love something, you protect it.”

Dean's words hung in the air, the weight of them almost palpable. He looked at you, waiting for a response, his heart pounding in his chest.

The walls around Dean's heart, which had once been so solid and towering, had finally come crumbling down, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. It was clear that there was no going back from this point, as Dean had decided to tear down his emotional barriers and reveal his true self. The honesty and openness that he was displaying left you feeling speechless, as if you were witnessing something truly special and rare.

“Please, y/n. Say something,” he said with his voice at the verge of breaking, when you did not say anything.

“You love me?”

“I can’t pretend anymore. You are everything, everything.” Dean finally confessed, his grip on your hand tightening.

For all of the light that I shut out For all of the innocent things that I doubt For all of the bruises I've caused in the tears For all of the things that I've done All these years, no, yeah For all the sparks that I stomped out For all of the perfect things that I doubt

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. But this time, they weren't tears of sadness; they were tears of joy. You had wanted to hear those words for so long – even if it was not a straightfoward 'I love you' –, but you had never dared to hope that they would be true.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," Dean uttered. "The idea of losing you, of ruining what we had, terrified me. You were always like a sister to us, and when I first felt something more for you, I didn't want to admit it. But I can't keep pretending that I don't feel this way.”

I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should Yeah, I'll be good, I'll be good For all of the times I never could

“Dean, I-I…” you tried to say, yet, the words got caught in your throat, the upheaval of the moment hindering your ability to vocalise something coherent.

Delicately, he reached out and carefully tucked a strand of your hair that had come loose behind your ear. His fingers lightly brushed against your skin as he cupped your cheek in his hand, his thumb tracing circles on your skin.

Dean looked at you for a long moment, his eyes softening as he took in your presence. You could sense the shift in his demeanor as the distress that had been etched in his features not five minutes before, had now completely vanished. His eyes seemed to sparkle with a new sense of calmness and peace.

Warmth blossomed in your chest, sparks igniting as Dean leaned in close, lips brushing together, tentatively, for the first time that night, though not the last.

His fingers danced through your hair, caressing the back of your head with the sweetest touch. His lips parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slide inside his mouth, and a hint of cinnamon and vodka mingled together, creating a unique and intoxicating combination that lingered on your taste buds.

Oh, oh-oh Oh, oh Oh, oh-oh For all of the times I never could

“I love you too, Dean.” you whispered in his ear, momentarily pulling away.

And, as you held each other, melting into the kiss, you both knew there was no going back to the way things were before.

@losa12308 – as you requested, I'm tagging you in part 2 (I'm actually thinking of making a taglist)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchest x reader fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester angst #sam and dean #dean winchester x female!reader #supernaturalxreader #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural fanfiction #hbo supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural #supernatural x reader #spnfandom #spn

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dadsbongos · 1 month ago

Text

warm and fuzzies

1.1 k words / warnings - grinding, inebriated groping/sex, outdoor action, sniffing

summary - when you two sneak onto the porch during a Halloween party, Connie Springer knows he has the perfect opportunity to woo you.

kinktober: day four - high/drunk ~~~

Red and purple lights flourish around Eren and Armin’s comfy two bedroom apartment. Dulled thumps vibrate against the sliding glass door to your right. Smoke ribbons between two flush faces: yours and Connie Springer. He’s got silver rings and a black sparkly robe and his ghostface mask is laid on top of your head.

“You put way too much rum in this,” and oh yeah, your dark lipstick is smeared on his lips as he passes your cup back, “Why?”

“The kitchen’s dark as fuck!” you huff, “I can’t see anything.”

Connie shakes his head, gagging histrionically, “No, I think your mixing is just dogshit.”

“Whatever,” eyes rolling, you hold out a hand to take the joint he holds, “Pass, Con’, don’t hog it.”

“You just had it, pretty girl,” your tummy flips as Connie leans over the arm of his lawn chair, bypassing your hand to perch the butt between your lips, “Go on, greedy.”

Despite his jab, you suck and blow -- politely airing the blunt smoke into Connie’s face. He playfully hums and closes his eyes to inhale, then sighing dreamily with a soft thanks, pretty. Red, lidded gaze locked on your own before dropping to your lips.

Gaze drifting sideways, you feel so bold as to reach up and twiddle his little hoop earring, “I like this.”

“Me too,” he mock gasps, “That’s why I got it.”

“Yeah, sassy?” the heat from his skin spurs you to card your nails along his buzz cut.

He hums, eyes fluttering shut to feel your fingers dance along his scalp while taking another hit. Dragging it out until he sears the back of his throat, now holding it up to your mouth, “Here, take it.”

“Hm?” you frown, and he can see the clarity sopping up alcohol in your eyes when you ask, “Are you going inside?”

“Huh? Nah,” he sits back, legs spreading. He wets his lips and encourages the blunt into your mouth with a gentle tap, “It’s gettin’ low. I figured you’d want the last bit.”

“Oh, okay,” awkwardly giggling off your earnest upset, “How courteous.”

“I know, right,” he’s been in your space all night. Eren called it weeks ago when he said you’d show at the party; said if you don’t take this chance to finally make out then I’ll kill you myself. So Connie clears his throat and pats his thighs, “I can be a bit more courteous?”

You giggle again, this time at him, “What?”

Connie shrugs it off -- he’s the funny short guy, thankfully your laughter is nothing new to him.

“How would you dig a new seat?” and again, he pats his thighs. Sparkly robe catching moonlight.

Blinking twice, you take a sip of your rum and Coke before sliding from one creaky lawnchair and into another to occupy Connie’s lap. Chest pressed against his and hands shyly perched around his neck -- nails tip tapping against sweaty red plastic. Dulling ice cubes clink behind his head, but Connie pays it no mind in favor of staring up at you through hazy eyes. Pupils blown so wide they’re onyx marbles. He laughs in your face.

“What?” you whine, plucking back to take a sip. Face puckering at the sour taste.

“You’re so cute,” Connie murmurs. You can smell vodka ripe from his throat. Vodka and orange juice and weed. Any ocean spray cologne he thought was going to steal the night has long since faded. It makes you suddenly paranoid your own body spray has been choked out.

“Do I smell bad?” you interrupt. Crickets croak behind you. A dog barks from down the road.

Inside Eren’s apartment, there’s a graveyard smash and drunken cheers.

Very sincerely, however, Connie’s brows raise and eyes widen. His hands land boldly on your hips, rocking you forward to steal an experimental sniff. You’re hardly listening for his response because your crotch notches his in the movement. A meek whimper leaks, one you’re not sober enough to bite down -- or even to have the shame to cover your mouth afterward.

For a stiff, endless moment you pray Connie simply hadn’t heard.

“Did you just moan?” his voice is hoarse, mouth agape and cheeks flaring red.

“No…” you bumble, shuffling onto your knees to stand only to be buckled down by Connie’s grip.

He whines and shakes his head, “You did,” he smiles and gives an airy teehee, “I wanna hear it again.”

“Con,” you whimper. He pushes you against his hardening cock. The pressure forces a huff of pleasure to waft out.

“Yeah, baby?” Connie’s scraping out suave by the skin of his teeth, despite the rabid rackety thump in his chest telling him he’s about to drop dead, “You like that?”

But when you let out a broken mm mmm and loose nod, his hips jerk up into yours without much thought. A gutless groan vibrating from his lips to yours. Connie gasps when you relent and roll, abandoning the watery rum and Coke in the window sill behind him to curl hands around his neck. Thumbs tracing the hard ridge of Connie’s jawline, culling his mouth open. Velvety tongues clashing as you groan and gasp into each other’s maws.

No matter how light-headed you are, you’re steely firm in wanting Connie -- so you don’t stop him when he starts rolling your bottoms off. Guitar calloused fingertips dip beneath the band of your underwear, Connie honestly moans when he feels nothing but slick.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles.

“Is that bad?” you slur.

“No way,” he babbles back, “Could slip in right now, you’re so hot.”

His praise makes you grin into the sloppy, sad excuse of a kiss. Connie drunkenly yanks up his rob -- inebriation making him blind to the autumn night chill suddenly icing his bare legs. Pushing his boxers down his knees, Connie’s barely considering trivial things like protection and safety and forethinking because your hole is already kissing his tip. And if you’re so eager, who is he to stop you when he’s just as excited?

Sinking pelvis to pelvis is easy when it’s Connie, who coos and moans and coaxes and strokes hearts into your clit. He hisses, “So good, baby, you feel so good.”

A useless squeal is all he gets in return as you swivel, thighs straining enough to feel the friction of his thick dick stretching you open again and again.

Crickets chirp. A dog yelps. A car zooms by as trees sway.

You and Connie fumble to feel each other up with fluttery eyes and sideways vision. Pure want clouding good judgment with neither of you bothering to temper swears and wails of one another’s name. Loud music and a prayer all that’s reliable to keep others oblivious.

And it does not work well: Eren locks the door and cinches the black curtains with a disappointed sigh.

#connie springer x reader #connie x reader #connie smut #connie springer smut #aot x reader #aot x you #attack on titan x reader #aot smut #dads kinktober

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