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#ignore the sappy gif
jabeur · 5 months
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ONE WORD TO DESCRIBE SONNY according to his teammates 🤍
for rahul @lee-kangin 💛💙
happy f o u r years of friendship rahul mio caro!!! i think i've said it all in my answer to your ask yesterday, but i just... love you so much and am so so so grateful to have met you and become your friend and to be able to call you my best friend! you're the most supportive, kindest, funniest, most talented, hard working, brilliant, sweetest, smartest person and it's always a pleasure and a fun time and so easy to talk with you. about anything, really. i feel like we've been through so much together, and i hope we're gonna be by each other's side for a lot more milestones, joys, (hopefully few) struggles, successes, spurs matches, interests and everything! you make my days better, you make the world a better, more fun place to live in. i will always be in your corner cheering you on and sending you cursed gifs and silly thoughts. love you, caro!! 🫶💛💙
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huellitaa · 2 months
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🎀💭 blog revamp: complete!ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ 💭 🎀ㅤ
i know i've not been very active lately, and i apologise! i have been getting my shit together in real life and online and have been working through some personal bits. i know i often go on and off of hiatuses randomly, but i'm attempting learning consistency in all areas of my life (and managing my time better because i'm absolutely terrible at it) and tumblr seems to be one of them that i need to work on too. anyway, thank you for your patience, and look forward to my usual messy, non-consistent chaotic girly posts ♡
──★ ˙ ̟🎀 WHAT'S NEW?
my blog is now divided into two seperate parts: @hue-hearts, my music, k-pop, media, reviews, etc. blog, and @huellitaa (this blog), which is my digital diary, photo dump, glow up, chaotic it girl blog.
updated my intro post, making each of my blogs now easy to navigate and giving you all more information ♡
i still don't have a posting schedule and no i will not be using the queue. i want to post what i want when i want without being held to any kind of schedule.
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clarabowmp3 · 5 days
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see it in my mind, let's fulfil the prophecy
HAPPY BIRTHDAY CLEO @thegreatimpersonatorr !
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cinamun · 1 year
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Jayce's fucking monologue is so fucking [redacted] that I had to put this on full blast and crip walk around my room for 30 whole minutes.
Me walking around my house after this shit
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seelestia · 5 months
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✧ i'll show you (if you'll let me).
⎯ there is a certain touch of beauty to witnessing a side of theirs revealed to you so naturally. it becomes as easy as breathing if you just let it happen... so, will you? ( or in other words, a way you enable them to be themselves. )
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#STARRING. aventurine, dr. ratio, sunday, dan heng ft. gn!reader. { 4.2k words }
#TAGS. fluff, established relationship. more: minor spoilers for aven's backstory (described mostly abstractly), ratio is referred to by his first name, i called sunday a nerd (sorry), dr. ratio & dan heng are certified workaholics.
#P/S. i think i may have yapped a little considering the word count but i hope it ends up being a good kind of yapping. tysm for reading! ♡
© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.
★ 〜 masterlist.
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will you let aventurine hold you close when he sleeps? . . . whether it's an arm slung over your hips or his nose buried in your shoulder or fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. he doesn't ask for too much; only that you grant him the permission to cradle you in his arms, somewhere within his reach. it's a habit, he hopes you don't mind.
you have to wonder, though. considering the plenitude of pillows on the bed, why do his hands still seek you out? with all the credits he spent on those cotton-stuffed angels, you thought aventurine would relish them a bit more. but ah-ah, see? that is where you're wrong. sure, the pillows are extremely comfy but he always has a preference for things with much, much more value.
and the truth — well, his truth — is that even the softest cushions from oti mall couldn't compare to the privilege of laying his head on your chest, he'd say. especially when you brush his hair with your fingers - oh, one of the easiest ways to paradise. truly, the best value there is! can you blame a man for being honest and a little lovesick?
(“sappy,” you accuse. he pouts, offended.)
but aventurine has a flair for theatrics, you know that. his witty quips are as feather-light in weight as light-hearted they are in intent. but his touch - in the forms of kind caresses or rhythmic taps to a tune from his forgotten culture - lingers on your skin, with a yearning so heavy. you question whether it could be nostalgia or instead, silent awe at a reality he never imagined could ever be his.
(kakavasha remembers. clinging onto you for warmth like he once did to his sister, falling asleep with her prayers to mama fenge in his ears. the avgins believed gaiathra triclops to be the symbol of humility; so naturally, their prayers to her should also be humble, not too quiet but not too loud. all in moderation. for a frail child like him, those gentle prayers alone were enough to let him drift into a dreamless slumber and to ignore the shackles of reality if not for the briefest moments.
time passed. came a time where the melody he associated with slumber was no longer a soft voice lulling him but pure static, a noise to distract his mind from the chains around his wrists. they burned themselves onto his skin, searing, but he was already too familiar with the sensation to care. the mark on his neck was unwelcome, laughing at him, but he too laughed at his own pitiful reflection so what's the difference, anyway?
time passed again, the call of slumber then turned into clattering noises of chips doused in gold and dice thrown onto a surface. he thought it'd stay that way forever but before long, it morphed into up-and-down waves he couldn't decipher initially. they're gentle, faint like a human's breathing: your breathing as you allowed him to lie beside you for the first time, he realized back then. although he deems himself unworthy, an ugly grime on your pristine existence that still insists on cradling him — but despite it all, he finds this last melody to be his favorite so far.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
ticklish.
the sensation, minor yet still impactful enough, causes you to stir out of sleep. the light of noon greets your eyes and you become vaguely cognizant that the root of it all is the tufts of blond hair brushing against your neck.
there is a solid weight on your torso and a pair of slender arms loosely wrapped around your waist - but they're nothing you haven't grown used to. you comb your fingers through the messy locks licking at your skin, instinctively, and the fragrant scent of what you register as penacony's limited edition perfume kisses your nose.
“...ugh, what system time is it?” you let out a grunt, shifting around slightly to let your limbs breathe. you don't get an answer to your question, instead, aventurine's arms reestablish their hold on you. hooking you closer to him as if to wring out whatever proximity is left, if there is even any. his simple proclamation of “who cares?”, in a sense.
there it is again, that ticklish feeling. you feel soft lips grazing feather-like kisses against your collarbone. oh, he definitely isn't letting go just yet. truly merciless, a dozy morning thought accompanied by your tired sigh. the noise still comes out fond, however, so your feigned act of annoyance is fooling no one.
“it's warm, you know,” you grumble. but the yawn escaping your mouth right after betrays whatever stern image you're trying to adopt. not like you can ever be too stern with him. aventurine knows this, yes, and he gives you an A+ for effort each time.
“mhm,” he finally speaks, snuggling into your chest with no care about anything in the world, “g'morning to you too, lovely.”
his favorite mornings aren't his favorite if not thanks to your innocuous complaints and delightful attempts at pushing his pretty face away, no? a lazy grin graces the stoneheart's lips and eyes like exquisite gems, although sleepy, flutter open to gaze at you languidly. he takes the sight of you in then lets out a sigh - a fond noise just like yours earlier; the both of you really are two peas of a pod.
you must look a terrible mess right now and yet, the sight of you has aventurine smiling dazedly. “ah, what a spectacular sight. i really am the luckiest man in the galaxy,” he hums in approval. you want to roll your eyes but stops as he leans up to pepper (ah, one necessary correction: smother) kisses all over your face, arms dragging you closer to his chest like a cage. your eyes widen comically. what a nefarious trap, he has the advantage!
every remnant of sleepiness clinging to your mind evaporates. you squeal with laughter, shoving at his shoulder using the strength of a baby deer because no, you don't really want him to stop. he knows that too, of course.
“mwah, mwah, mwah—”
“pfft...! kakavasha, i can't breathe!”
(he has half a mind to pinch his skin, as if to remind himself that this is real. he can feel your giggles tickling his skin as if to tell him in return: yes, you are.)
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will you let veritas pour his heart out after a long day? . . . well, that could count as too much of an overstatement. others say, “that man is like a brick wall!” some more dare to whisper, “doesn't his temper already exhaust whatever emotional quota he has?!” needless to say, everyone knows that dr. ratio is a man ruled by the mind, not by the heart. alright, that's quite true - but does that imply he has discarded the latter altogether? if so, then you beg to differ.
(not in the literal sense, of course! the heart is a vital organ of the body. saying otherwise would be akin to spitting on his shiny phd in biology... or his seven other phd's at that.)
the pedestal which the public places veritas ratio on reaches still great heights, even if it may not rival an ivory tower a member of the genius society resides in. it is so high up that mundane troubles of those below can't reach a genius like him, surely? well, as tall as he stands - somehow, the universe grants you a front row seat for a particular sight that proves otherwise.
if only they knew the doctor has a habit of mumbling these incomprehensible (more like barely intelligible) grumbles under his breath, striking a resemblance similar to a grumpy old cat. if you strain your ears hard enough, you might catch a “...this has to be it...” or “...i dare not think so...” from time to time as he roams around the room with materials in his hands.
(absurd, people would say. but you think it's extremely cute.)
veritas doesn't say it out loud - but you can tell by the hunch in his stiff shoulders, by the one or two sighs he huffs every six minutes - that he is itching to tell somebody of all the tomfooleries he has encountered today. of course, the topics he laments about vary; it's only when you hear him exhaling the loudest sigh that you get to find out.
mostly though, it's about his students and remarks on how they can further improve their performance — sure, he could phrase it a little gentler — but you still find it sweet that he cares. if not that, then it'd be about indolent colleagues, complicated formulae and more. on some days, he'll even let out an exasperated “truly mind-boggling! could you believe that?” to which you'd reply with an “uh-huh, go on.”
at the end of a ranting session, veritas takes careful note to leave a kiss on your person afterward. no matter where it is - on the lips, the cheek or your hand. no matter where you are - sitting on the couch beside him, behind the kitchen counter or across the room. the warmth that stays on your skin when he pulls away is somewhat tingly. appreciative, you think, especially when he looks at you with such loving eyes that his colleagues would be sure to retch in shock if they were a witness.
looks like you are right on the money; he has never discarded his heart, after all. so yes, to rephrase - will you lend veritas a listening ear when he needs it?
✧ a moment among the stars:
“...yet another headache.”
as unsubtle as ever, the doctor's complaint is barely hidden behind the guise of a mumble. those neatly styled violet bangs of his aren't doing an excellent job at concealing that frown strewn across his forehead either. veritas's posture is tense, a dead giveaway, as he goes over the piles of documents on his desk.
you cock an eyebrow upon seeing the stamp belonging to the intelligentsia guild on one of the papers. definitely work. it has been two system hours since he took a seat at the work desk, you concur, or lifted a finger to do something besides flipping through drafts. a mere glance at the stack of documents is enough to convince you that those researchers at the guild must really value veritas's input.
a perk of being a genius, maybe? the phantom of a weight lands alight on your shoulders. with a mug of black coffee in hand, you make your way to him. your footsteps are without a sound, only the noise of porcelain being placed down onto woodenware is enough to announce your arrival. “rough day at work?” you ask, peering down at his progress.
(a doctor's handwriting really is something. you resist the urge to squint.)
veritas doesn't seem to mind. if the way he smiles at the sight of you, albeit tiredly, is any indication. “hah,” he rests a hand on his temple and scoffs wryly, “so much grievances like you wouldn't believe.”
oh, he is teetering on the precipice of a tangent but stops himself. “...fret not, i'm fine. this is hardly something beyond my expertise,” he shakes his head, the motion causing his reading glasses to slide down a smidgen down the bridge of his nose.
you're too familiar with the self-assured bravado he puts on. you're quite endeared, actually. “okay, mr. i-require-no-rest,” you take the glasses off his face and he breaks into a frown. at the childish tone you're using or for having his reading glasses taken away, you don't know.
“why don't you take a little break?” you suggest. veritas sighs, “need i remind you that dilly-dallying is for fools who wish to waste their time?” and crosses his arms defiantly. he knows your strategy, he has come face-to-face with it several times.
“do you think a break with me is a waste of time?” you present him with a rhetorical question, quite the difficult adversary.
(and he keeps losing to it every single time.)
“well, that's—” the doctor nearly splutters, taken aback. “that's different if you insist on inserting yourself as a variable,” he infers, putting emphasis on the last part accompanied by an incredulous look.
“the answer is up for debate then,” you shrug with a cheeky smile. your hand then deftly lifts the mug you previously set down to your lips, veritas's eyes dilate in bewilderment. “so,” you hum at the rich taste of your handiwork, “wanna tell me about your day? haven't heard about the council in a while.”
“you—” he gasps in defeat, “i thought that was supposed to be my mug of coffee.”
(he has a slight pout on his face, but you dare not point it out lest it disappears in the blink of an eye.)
“our mug of coffee,” you take a few more sips with an innocent decadence. “all is fair in love and war, doctor.”
“i can never win with you,” he buries his face in his palm with a groan. you laugh heartily, a sound that chimes like quaint little bells in his ears - it elicits a reaction from his lips, for them to quirk up at the corners in the smallest of ways.
“regardless. . .” veritas relents and reaches for your free hand. you let him. “it seems a break wouldn't be so amiss, after all,” he then presses a kiss on the side of your wrist, affectionate.
(your heart skips a beat.)
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will you let sunday regale you with facts you've never heard of before? . . . a man of eloquent words, no less a man of educated mind. you have no doubt that the books in the dewlight pavilion really aren't just there for show - not that you're allowed to browse through them at your own desire. a servant's voice would stop you in your tracks should your fingers ever brush against something in the family's secret bookshelf.
how mysterious.
but sunday makes it known to the staff that you, in particular, are allowed more access to the shelves - perhaps, not too much - but more than even mr. mccoy, at least. with the way you have to crane your neck far up to pinpoint the tallest height that the shelves reach, you wonder: has sunday gone through everything here personally?
your immediate answer is most likely. you know sunday fairly well; to have something that he hasn't scrutinized from the inside out in his possession will surely gnaw away at his psyche incessantly. not being in the know at all times is a looming fear for him. but of course, you have other ways to confirm the answer for yourself.
pick out a book from a shelf there, either intentional or purely arbitrary, and watch as sunday carefully traces his steps towards you. his curiosity is piqued, which topic has caught your interest this time? but he tucks it under proper cordiality. with a hand behind his back, he'd utter your name in the softest tone and ask the familiar question of “would you like to know more?” — asking for your permission to ramble, essentially — you find this tendency of his to be charming, so you nod each time.
(and he smiles when you do. a smile less refined at the edges, kinder and relaxed.)
the best place to start from is always the beginning. you think sunday agrees because he often starts by telling you the history and its origins before moving on to its impact on the galaxy, then his personal stance on the topic. it's a pattern, you notice, his ramblings have a pattern. and it's consistent every time, you might've believed he was reading off a script. and what's more? sunday is blissfully oblivious of it.
fascinating. you ponder: what kind of things you can do with this information? decisions, decisions, decisions. . . but ultimately, you opt for keeping it a secret like a treasure only you're allowed to see.
(that might be true in a way. you don't doubt that robin, his dear sister, is familiar with this side of him. does that mean he treasures you like he does her? your chest starts to feel a bit lighter.)
if you were to point it out, you fear you might never witness it again - goodness, to know that he has been displaying such foolishness or rather, what he viewed as an embarrassing freudian slip in front of you? his wings might as well resort to covering his face for good until the end of time.
as you listen to him talk (with such elegance at that), you can't help whatever tender look you have on your face. really, who would've thought the head of the oak family could be such. . . a nerd?
(you hope in secret that sunday will be more willing to show sides like these to you in the future. and that they're not a weakness at all, not when they're shared with you.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
“it looks like you're fascinated by the dreamscape nursery rhyme this time.”
sunday spares the article in your hold no further inspection. one glance at the cover and walls of memorized information rush to the front of his mind. he looks familiar with it; could it be a part of his childhood too? but then again, everything found here is within his knowledge.
“i am,” you say with intrigue, “it got me ruminating for a while.”
you meet his gaze, stumbling upon yellow irises that glimmer akin to gold under penaconian chandeliers. you think you see a hint of affection in them, swimming around your reflection like a school of fish in a pond. it makes you smile.
he smiles back, oblivious to your thoughts but returns your gesture. he asks, “how so?” and you reply without delay, “i read through it and the morbid undertone took me by surpri—”
or at least, it's supposed to be without delay until you realize sunday has stepped closer in order to peer down at the page you're holding open. and suddenly, you're extremely aware of every minute detail like how his breath brushes against the side of your cheek and how his chest rumbles as he hums in acknowledgement.
(you flush in the neck and he perceives this reaction of yours with mirth.)
“my apologies,” sunday chuckles and pulls away, “i've simply forgotten the rhyme and wished to refresh my memory.”
“somehow, i feel that isn't the case...” you mumble accusingly. that seems to amplify whatever little amusement he gets from flustering you. “oh, my dove. i can assure you that it is,” he caresses your head, a little placatingly.
most times, sunday isn't so laidback about giving affection in public — since he has an image to maintain — so you assume the fact that the servants are out and about, leaving only you and him here, plays a role in his unusual boldness. you accept the gesture with a bashful pout.
“now, where were we?” sunday clears his throat, “ah, yes. some people have noted on the nursery rhyme's strange quality but still, it retains its popularity in penacony. it is also widely assumed that the hound resembles the bloodhound family while—”
you hold back an amused sigh, but it's more out of fondness than anything. he'll start from the history then the effect on the general public, as per usual, but you're not the only predictable one here. you'd listen to him anytime too, won't you?
(you do adore when the head of the oak family would put off his public figure mask around you. if only for just a while.)
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will you let dan heng rest his head on your lap when it's just you two? . . . the sense of comfort it provides isn't something he can explain with words. as if he has ever been good with words in the first place. saying a sentence bereft of logical reasoning or witty remarks doesn't come easily to the express’ guard. neither does intimacy. . . but you know that already, don't you?
after all, it isn't a secret that dan heng prefers speaking with his actions. if to show one's intentions is the end goal, then actions are the fastest route to choose. words, although able to sweeten the trip like how a beautiful scenery can, will eventually lead to actions regardless so why take the extra step?
but you're different from him; you articulate what you think and what you mean. you're honest in ways that keep catching dan heng off guard without fail — just like the first time you offered your empty lap to him when his head was swirling in pain — but he supposes that is one of your charms. “words can be useful. we're not all born mind readers,” you told him once and he hummed, accepting of your perspective.
(“look at you two! opposites attract!” march chirped. he recalled shooting her a look of indignation and she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly in response.)
dan heng has learnt to grow used to your propensities - but by far, your shameless invitations are still one matter that can't be comprehended even with time. he cannot understand; how you smile as you sit on his futon in the archives (he doesn't mind), how you link gazes with him so effortlessly, how you pat your lap knowingly and say, “why don't you rest your head here?”
(he has to restrain himself from bursting into flames like a heliobus.)
sometimes, he'll accept reluctantly or he'll decline with an underlying tone of longing he doesn't want you to notice. because as much of a good hold dan heng has on nonchalance, he cannot deny that this particular gesture of yours has left a mark on him.
(it remains persistently.)
when he rests his head on your lap, he can't help but take a deep inhale - your fragrance fills his senses and he discards the selfish desire to keep it all to himself. your fingers are soothing as they thread through his hair gently. the feeling that washes over him is serene, almost comparable to submerging himself in the pure waters of scalegorge waterscape.
when overcome by such a tranquil state of mind, dan heng wonders what expression he might be making at that moment? he always keeps his eyes closed, so it's a shame he may never know. but you do, and you don't think you've ever seen him look so at peace before like he does now.
(perhaps, that's why you keep offering him this in the first place.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
“someone looks tired,” you state with a pointed stare. the archives isn't a room too spacious and the only ones here are you and him. the target of your sentence is obvious.
but dan heng doesn't take the bait, barely looks away from the entry he is currently authoring. still, he spares you a glance and hums glibly, “are you projecting? if so, feel free to use my bed in the meantime.”
you let out a noise, something gibberish that conveys disappointment but it is effectively drowned out by the typing noises. “you haven't even touched the food i bought you,” your voice becomes mellow, “why don't you rest for a while?”
he isn't convinced, you think, since his fingers are still hard at work. the new info the team brought back must've been a lot if he's that focused.
“dan heng?” you try again, hopeful for the last time. you don't take him for a fool, of course, he'll know when he reaches his limit and have proper rest then. but would that really be ideal? a second passes and that hope flickers like a dimming light. but just an inch before the edge of giving up, the typing slows to a stop.
“. . .alright,” he murmurs. finally, after a good hour spent drawing patterns on his backside with your eyes, dan heng turns around to face you. he look tense, you note with abject concern.
“here,” you usher him to your lap, empty and conveniently so. dan heng shoots you a blank look - this isn't the first time you offered and this isn't the first time he reacted like that. you try to suppress a laugh, failing gloriously at it. “just for a little bit,” you utter through a stifled fit of chuckles.
dan heng shakes his head, not in rejection but in defeat. his eyes slip close, second nature, as he leans to situate his head on your lap. you welcome him with a hum and let your fingers card through his hair. a calm sigh falls from his lips like a water droplet in springtime.
“this. . . is nice,” he admits, sudden and unprompted. you nearly doubt your ears for a moment there. did he— “i don't hate it is, uhm, what i mean to say,” dan heng adds and it dawns on you that your ears are still working. his eyes are still closed, not that you'd expect anything else, he prefers to treat it as a shield from being face-to-face with embarrassment.
(or to avoid your ecstatic gaze. he can feel warmth rushing to his cheeks already.)
“i know,” you smile, brushing away a few messy strands from his forehead. he isn't an open book but you think you've read the pages enough to remember all the little details. “but thanks for telling me. i'm no mind reader but i think i can read yours pretty well.”
“i shall provide no further comment,” he holds back an incredulous exhale, yet his lips still curl slightly at the corner. you feel the teeniest desire to trace the curve of his lips with your fingertip but settle for silently admiring them instead.
“it's fine. i know the answer already,” you say, words dripping with affection. such a shame dan heng never looks up at you during a time like this. because if he did, he wouldn't have missed seeing the sheer fondness in your gaze that rains down on him in light showers. a true shame.
(one day, he'll gather the courage. maybe.)
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— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. ♡
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shockercoco · 5 months
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Bloodlust
Feyd Rautha x reader
Warnings - 18+, blood kink, fingering, squirting, feyd being his usual self
Word count - 2009
a/n - Here's the runner up from my poll.  I started a new job and it’s literally taking away my energy to write, but don’t worry I’m not going anywhere, and I will make time. I also wanted to say a quick hello to all the new readers, given the fact that I’ve gained a lot in the past couple of weeks, and I wanted to give a thanks to everyone for actually enjoying my work. That’s enough sappiness :)
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“Head! Head! Head!” the crowd shouts down at Feyd who’s currently standing over a dead man’s body in the middle of the arena. He had just eliminated his opponent, and given the roar of the crow, they still wanted more.
You had your head turned for the majority of the battle, not wanting to see the gore. You would think you’d be used to everything by now, given the amount of family games you’ve been to since marrying Feyd, but all the blood and stabbing still makes you uneasy. Now, you’re just hoping that the crowd shouting head doesn’t mean what you think it means.
Feyd looks up at the spot next to you where his uncle, the Baron, sits in his chair chuckling at the crowd’s reaction. He makes eye contact silently asking for his uncle’s permission to continue, and the Baron just raises his hand and gives him a nod in response.
“Might as well give the people what they want, he’s earned it,” the Baron mutters.
You watch as a wicked smile grows on Feyd’s face as he turns his attention back to the lifeless body on the ground. One of his handlers walks up to him to hand him a chainsaw to which Feyd happily takes as he carelessly tosses his blade aside. He holds the chainsaw up in the air to show the crowd, causing the volume in the arena to increase.
He then proceeds to start up the chainsaw and begins sawing , all the while the sinister smirk on his face grows more and more. You expected to see blood flying everywhere, but all you saw was Feyd taking his sweet time. The crowd continues to cheer, but you roll your eyes at the sight before you. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to Feyd’s bloodlust. 
When the job is done, you take it as your cue to leave and head to Feyd’s chambers to meet him since he always cleans himself after a battle. Before he met you, he would think that bathing was a waste of time after a battle, but he decided to change his ways for your benefit. It’s not like you wanted to relive what happens in the arena.
You’re looking out of a  floor-to-ceiling window in his chamber when Feyd bursts through the doors, a smile forming on his lips when he sees you. You ignore it though as you find yourself looking at the several spots of blood on his arm and shirt, one catching your eye. There’s a sizable dark stain on the side of his black shirt. He’s bleeding. 
“You’re bleeding,” you point at the spot on his shirt, and Feyd stops in the middle of taking off his gear to look down and examine himself.
“Oh, that’s nothing,” he dismisses it with a wave of his hand as he continues removing his gear. “I let that fool get a couple jabs in to make him think he had a chance.”
You’re taken aback at his casual response. “I’m sorry, you let him hurt you? He could’ve given you a serious injury or worse. Are you insane- oh wait, I forgot. You are.”
He knows all the names that people call him behind his back, and he accepts them all; he finds them amusing. Feyd laughs at your reaction, knowing it comes from love, and walks toward you. “You worry too much, I won’t let anything happen to me. I know you wouldn’t be able to live without me.”
He places your hands in his as he stands in front of you with his signature smirk, but you remove your hands and look up at him. “That's not funny, I’m being serious.”
“I know, I know. You just need to relax,” he says and grabs your face in his hands as he looks down at you.
“Feyd-,” you begin to say, but he hushes you and gently rubs one of his thumbs across your lips.
“I said you need to relax.” 
His voice is nothing more than a whisper now as he flicks his gaze between your eyes and lips. Finally, he leans down to connect his lips with yours with his hands still having a hold on your face. You feel your body relaxing into the kiss, deciding to give up on getting through to him for now because there will no doubt be plenty of other times to have this talk. Your hands find themselves resting on his waist.
Feyd notices you giving in to him and smirks to himself. He then pushes you back a couple of steps until your body collides with the glass window you were staring out of just a few minutes ago. Feyd pulls back from you long enough to remove his shirt before continuing.
Your hands find themselves on his waist to bring him closer, but you pull away when your right hand touches his open wound. “Shouldn’t you be getting that looked at instead of trying to bed me?” you ask, slightly out of breath, as you look down at your dark blood stained hand. Feyd rolls his eyes at your question.
“I’ll get it looked at after, I promise,” he says, hoping you’ll move on, but when he notices you still looking at his side, he says, “Look, it doesn’t even hurt.”
He grabs one of your hands and places it on his open wound to press down, not even caring about the blood getting on his hand placed over yours. You hear feyd hum, not from pain, but from pleasure. Growing restless, Feyd takes matters into his own hands and forces your chin up, allowing him to connect his lips with yours once again. One of his arms wrap around your waist to pull you closer to him. He deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, and you accept him.
His hand finds its way to your cheek again before slowly moving down your throat, leaving a trail of blood behind. Your mind doesn’t notice the wet feeling on the side of your face at first as Feyd begins sucking your tongue. You feel like you should be disgusted at him contaminating you, but instead it just arouses you even more. You let out a moan as you move your hands up to rest against his chest, your right hand leaving behind its own trail. 
Feyd moves one of your hands back down to his injury, and you let him, succumbing to his morbid kink, though you’re starting to think about adding it to your mental list of turn-ons.  A constant flow of warmth travels to your lower half, your body silently letting you know you’re finding pleasure in his sick ways.
All the while Feyd is grinding himself against you, pressing your back against the glass even more. A small damp spot begins to form on your panties as you feel his clothed length moving into you. He places one of his hands onto the glass behind you leaving it next to your face. 
You can’t see it, but his partially stained hand leaves a thin handprint on the glass next to your head. You both have given up on trying to hold your breath, making the kiss sloppy as the heat from both of your mouths connect in the air between you. The sound of your guys’ saliva connecting can be heard in his normally quiet chamber.
He pulls his hips away from you to scrunch your gown up enough to stick his unstained hand underneath, letting the rest of the fabric drop back down. He cups you into his large hand, allowing the tips of his fingers to reach your folds over your panties, reaching where you need him the most. He receives a response from his action with you moaning into his mouth.
His touch is not enough, though, so you let out a whine hoping he gets the idea, which he does. You’re grateful for the fact that he doesn’t tease you and instead pushes your panties to the side. 
Feyd swipes a finger through your folds to test your wetness, and once he feels the slickness on the sensitive skin, he instantly shoves a finger into your welcoming opening. You pull your mouth away from him to moan as he begins fingering you involuntarily squeeze his wound, causing him to groan at the same time. The hand on his chest and the one on his side move up to grab onto Feyd’s shoulders to stabilize yourself as you feel your legs weakening. 
“Why’d you pull away from me, my darling? Too much?” Feyd teases as he continues to pump his finger into you, watching as a look of pleasure forms on your face. 
He smirks at your whimpering response before shoving another finger into you. He leans back to continuing observing the sight in front of him as he watches you fall apart, his mouth slightly ajar.
“You’re enjoying this?” Feyd asks you as he pulls his stained hand away from the glass and uses it to place a firm grip on your chin, forcing your head up to him. The words came out as a question, but it was more of an acknowledgment at the fact of you finding pleasure with his dirty hands. The revelation sends a rush of blood to his already hard cock. 
You don’t answer since you’re too busy whimpering, so he gives your chin a shake. “Open your eyes, and answer me,” he tells you.
“Yes…I am,” you answer breathlessly after opening your eyes. You squeeze his shoulders to help keep your focus on him. 
Feyd lets out a faint “yes” under his breath as he tries to stop his mouth from watering as he looks at your blood covered skin. He then removes the hand on your chin to gather both of your in his, pinning them above you against the glass window. 
As he feels your climax approaching, Feyd increases the pace of his fingers inside you. The arousal dripping out of you and clinging to your folds as a result of him driving into you, allows for a wet squelching sound to echo in your head. A long whine falls out of your mouth as he forces you closer and closer to your orgasm while you arch into him and grind your hips into his hand.
Once you feel that warm wave wash through you as you finally cum, your breath catches in your throat causing you to let out a silent cry of pleasure as your eyes roll back into your skull. When you feel yourself squirt onto the tiles beneath you, you allow your eyes to squeeze shut as Feyd continues to finger you.  He groans as he listens to your liquid hit the ground.
“Oh my god,” you shriek at his relentless torment into your cunt. 
Feyd chuckles and gives you an open mouth smile. “There we go, just like that,” he whispers. You whine in response.
When he finally stops, he pulls his drenched fingers out of you. You’re still leaking onto the ground as you watch Feyd stick his fingers into his mouth, keeping eye contact with you the whole time. You let out a trembling sigh as Feyd releases his hold on your hands above your head, but he doesn’t give you a chance to fully catch your breath as he grabs you and places you onto his bed.
“You know, my darling, I thought you absolutely hated blood and the ways of this planet. It seems I have ruined you,” Feyd smirks down at you as he drags a thumb across your bottom lip.
You look up at him as you accept the fact that he’s right. 
Feyd looks over at one of his walls with several knives and blades mounted onto it, and you follow his gaze. He looks back at you with a questioning look.
You feel your heart stop, but also another wave of arousal flows through your pelvis, as you realize what he wants.
620 notes · View notes
getodrools · 7 months
Note
hii !! i lovveeeee ur works esp how u write toji 🫶🫶🫶
was wondering if you could write toji w a reader that's lowk inexperienced but also kind of a freak !! like she asks for pussy slaps and/or wants to ride him while playing with his nipples >_< maybe even wanting to rub both of their nipples together while making out and riding him and she's just so cockdrunk !! <3333
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໒꒰ྀི。•̀ᴗ-꒱ྀི 🗞️ hellllooo ml ! thankuu sososo much ♡ ! this is honestly so hot and was vv fun to write gosssh ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 CURSORY | Toji Fushiguro.
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warnings. mdni | f! reader | pwp, nipple playy ( ’cause he has massive yams that are hard to ignore ), riding, spanking + pussy spanks sob, he's so meeean n’ big, size difference, cunnilingus, fingering, clit biting, creampie, overstimulation, slight praising and degrading. ( wc. 1.2k+ )
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A MEAN SWAT CURDLES at the sweet heat between your legs. Shifting in ache, your thighs tweeze together, only to be quickly pinched at,
“No no. keep em’ nice n’ wide f’me baby,” The man sitting splayed between you flickers a taut grin, “Werent you just begging for this pussy to be disciplined? So keep those fuckin’ legs open.” His grunt doesn't help but add to the tenstisty of his words.
But Toji was right.
Each tingle patting at your – now, puffy, swollen lips made your pussy warm with a slick web, practically drooling a faucet of water when he'd give your bundle of nerves a pinch too. Catching the pearly bud between teeth and latching on, giving a good lap around ‘till your thighs threatened to pop his head right off his shoulders…
Chewing at your bottom lip, “One more… please?—” You whine and he smirks.
Winding his palm back, he releases a harsh whack to your clit. It shoots a throb right up your spine and mushes your brain into frivolity. Just how you scoured for.
Not knowing much to begin with, but this felt damn good! And it surprises him too, watching his pretty girl ache for something he'd think you would try to crawl away from… but watching how your cute hips twitch and turn for more, he can't help but feel his cock stiffen up even harder! Bulbous tip even oozing like a gutted drain.
“Such a naughty girl.” Searching for that cruel intent flicking at your sweetest regions until you puddled beneath him, he finds it. Quickly.
Finding that slick webbing so lewdly between your legs once more and giving the soft flesh a good spank. You twist in his vice, even flashing down big doe eyes but your mouth waters in contrary. That scrutinizing ache glorying over pretty features reminded him one of a puppy too. Eyes innocent and larger – you were damn good at begging for what you wanted, and he'd ease you with a gentle rub, falling right into it; soothing the tight bundle of nerves throbbing at his mean persistence.
Shading into red, you didn't notice how limp you’ve gone either, thinking the numbing only tingled between your legs.
Body trembling above his now – his strong arms latch around your waist to help you steady into his naked lap, “We’ll get back to that– you just look mighty good right now and my dick is hurtin’.” And thick meat prods below you, teasing at the sappy entrance you wind with.
Like a magnet.
“Fuck baby…” His words draw out with a long drawl, watching carefully how his cock sinks into you – watching how you drop down to take him entirely.
Too much though! You still couldn't find space for him no matter how much you tried to shimmy into his lap, pussy still too tight for his might girth! and your chest falls right into his at the hefty packing.
… Oh.
Hard peaks press into each other and it catches you both. His body jolts slightly at the soft tease of your breast gliding across his; hard nipples catching each other in the entanglement.
Toji didn't think his toes would kick into the sheets, but as sensitive as he was, he catches his bottom lip between his teeth.
Beneath your palms are warm but his skin bumps with a trail, “Toji...” Creamy twins with faint blue veins running along them like cooling streams you could just wash your face in throb.
His pecs are strong and large enough to grab a good handful with.
Tempting.
His brow hooks in as your hand begins to glide up, a sneaky thumb covering the area that broke into a pinkish shade.
Toji groans again.
“What're you up to?” He still lets you explore. Not minding how you enjoyed to with his body… you give a breathless giggle, “They're hard like mine…” Was he blushing? “I like when you squeeze mine when mine are hard…” Your thumb swipes across him, watching how the pebbled peaks toing.
“… do you do too?” Your pointer and thumb tweak like wrench, before his gasp could fall to your ears, you catch his mouth with yours, eating up that moan he so rarely spews out. And you knew he was enjoying the sweet taste of nectarous lotion and salt as you played with him. Even feeling his cock throb deep inside of you; your fleshy barrier began to mold to his size, yet still unable to cope with a cock from beyond, you writhed around him, squeezing so tightly like you were trying to milk him from everywhere...
Toji latches firm hands around your two doughy globes, giving your ass a good squeeze before swatting the taut flesh in response.
You eat each other's mutterings.
Bodies slipping together, you let your tits bounce against his — too needy now, letting hard peaks prod every time you rolled your hips to feel more of him poke up inside of you.
But the motions were clumsy. Still needed to work on your knees, but he couldn't care, not one damn bit, it was god damn hot watching you explore like this. A damn freak he might say… the clouding thought wisped at the back of his head, you really were!
Tasting drool that left your lips as your mind was driven to the edge, unable to cope. The Fushiguro adored it.
… This turned him on fast – too fast! Now parts of him tingled and numbed as well…
He adored it so much, his cock pumped hard and then slammed his hips up to catch yours; stiff nth inch cock meat shot straight up into your fluttering warmth with finality, almost worming his way into your womb… you held still, gasping against his mouth as tits sloshed together messily…
Not only did your breast look freezing, but you also froze your movements to swallow up the pulse bulges of thick cum making its way in you.
Toji’s cock swells up almost an inch bigger as he directly splatters rope after rope of steaming, hot cum across your gummy walls… Your body contracted violently in response but also as your own high ripped through you, far stronger than was normal. Assuming all vulnerable parts of you were smothered with his added to the cries of bliss ringing out – all loud and long and clear, and it was all music to him.
Catching your tongue, “You're a little freak, you know that?” His smile was wide and shark-like, bearing his dagger-sharp incisors ‘till you caught your breath...
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<– BACK: PINNED ꪆৎ NEXT: MORE TOJI –>
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iwritefandomimagines · 7 months
Text
NOTES — JESS MARIANO
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based on a request
masterlist
pairing: jess mariano x reader
description: after months of mutual pining, jess arrives at luke’s having read your favourite novel. oh, and he has some notes.
warnings: swearing, jokey sexual reference, other than that just tooth rotting fluff vibes
author’s note: thank you so much for this request, i loved it sm i had to immediately start writing!!! i hope it does jess justice — i love writing him so much. i may go back and edit some bits im not 100% happy with — but i hope you enjoy!!!
pleaaaaase let me know what you think — i love love love reading you guys’ feedback <3
———
“I finished it.”
If you were anyone else, you’d have jumped out of your skin at the sudden, and rather loud, appearance of someone beside you.
But this was you, and it was Jess, so you were more than used to your ‘peaceful’ study sessions at Luke’s being interrupted by his ever-present smirk, his flirting and his endless supply of smartarse comments.
Not that you could complain.
You’d grown used to his omnipresence over a year ago. And it had been months now since you’d realised that you no longer just tolerated his company — you enjoyed it a ridiculous amount and instead longed for it when he wasn’t around.
You eyed him quizzically, noting how proud of himself he looked for reading your favourite book, but also noticing an unusual lack of self-assurance glimmering through his expression.
“I would ask if you mean this trig stuff for Mr Elton,” you gestured down to the homework you’d been painfully poring over for the past hour, “But I know you too well to expect you to actually do your homework, so what are you talking about?”
He didn’t mention that the real reason he never studied in your trig study sessions was because he was more often than not too busy staring at you and coming up with things to say to make you laugh.
Jess raised his eyebrows, but then shook his head and cleared his throat to do a godawful impression of you, “Oh Jess, I can’t believe you’ve never read it. My favourite novel in the whole world and you’ve never read it!”
You scoffed, “If that was supposed to be me, get out of here.”
“Please, like you really want to get rid of me,” he teased, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you, “Then you’d be miserable and heartbroken and, even worse, have to actually finish your trig homework. Besides, I enjoyed it.”
Your eyes brightened up at this, and you could tell he noticed, “Don’t look so surprised, Y/N. Your taste isn’t that bad… I mean, you hang out with me don’t you?”
“For some reason, yes,” you pretended to grumble, feigning ignorance of the butterflies in your stomach at his usual smug smile, “But you really liked it?”
He sat down in the seat opposite you now, pulling the book from his bag and slamming it down in front of you, “Well, I have notes of course.”
You rolled your eyes, at which he couldn’t help but laugh, “Hey, it wasn’t terrible. I did say I enjoyed it… Some of the notes are nice.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure.”
“You wound me,” Jess feigned a pout, “Romance isn’t usually my genre and you know that.”
“Of course. Hemingway fanboy is too cool for my sappy romantic books, huh,” you joked, heart still racing wildly at the notion he’d even started reading it, let alone finished it.
“Pfft. Austen fangirl should be less rude and give more Hemingway a try, I say,” he quipped back, tongue in cheek.
“Hey, I like Hemingway,” you shook your head, “I just don’t go to bed and jerk off over how great I think he is like you so obviously do.”
He shook his head and pulled a face that faked shock, “And how much time in the day, on average, would you say you spend thinking about what I jerk off over, huh?”
“You are such an ass,” you tutted, swatting his arm, “Approximately none, thank you very much.”
“Whatever you say, princess.”
“Anyway, if you’re done being gross, let’s get back to the important thing here. You read my book,” You reached to pull the book towards you, only for him to snatch it back and rest his elbows on it.
You furrowed your brows at him, “What’ve you got to hide in there?”
His eyes narrowed, his lip between his teeth now as though he was thinking hard about something.
“C’mon, Mariano,” you leaned forward, “I assumed that since you brought the book with you, I’d get to see at least some of your notes.”
His fingers were picking at the edges of the book’s cloth sleeve, his toes drumming on the floor anxiously like they’d recently begun to do more often when he was around you.
He heaved out a deep sigh, “Look. I’m going to give you this, and then I’m gonna leave the diner, alright? And then, and only then, you can open this book up, and you can read what’s in there. And if you never see me again it’s ’cause I’ve died of embarrassment or something. Got it?”
You rolled your eyes, chin on your palm.
He slid the book in your direction now as you watched him swallow thickly and cocked your head to the side like a curious puppy, “Ever so cryptic, aren’t you?”
“You’ll figure it out, Miss Marple.”
With that, he rose to his feet and darted out of the diner before you could even say another word.
You briefly made eye contact with Luke behind the counter, who watched you carefully for a moment before looking down at the book now carefully clutched between your fingers.
You wasted no time then, pulling open the book and desperately skimming for whatever the hell he was talking about.
You weren’t sure what on earth you expected to find when you flicked through its pages, but it most certainly wasn’t a plethora of sticky tabs with scrawled notes on about how the protagonist reminded him of you.
You expected even less, then, to find a note in Jess’ handwriting at the very back of the book declaring that he realised halfway through — when the two love interests whose relationship bore a crazy resemblance to your own, realised that they were in fact in love — that he’d been stupid to deny that he even liked you, let alone that he’d quite obviously fallen stupidly in love with you.
Shock coursed through you, your heart racing at the uncharacteristically romantic and yet somehow still so incredibly Jess gesture.
You stood up, almost knocking over your chair as you placed the book under your arm and turned to leave, “I’ll be back—uh, soon.”
Luke nodded, “Go get him kiddo.”
You smiled, butterflies whirling in your stomach as you left the diner almost as quickly as Jess had just minutes ago.
You knew exactly where you’d find him — perched on the bridge swinging his feet and letting his mind convince him you wouldn’t in a million years feel the same.
When he heard the sound of your footsteps approaching, you saw him clench his eyes shut as if in hope that he was imagining you and that you’d soon disappear.
“You can’t confess your love for me and then run away, Jess,” you bit your lip as you teased him softly, “It’s not fair not to give me a chance to say it back properly. You do get bonus points for how much of a romance novel cliché that move is, though.”
He sighed, a deep heavy sigh of relief, and it was as though suddenly he reverted to his usual self, “Technically the book confessed my love for you, actually. And the window for reciprocating hasn’t quite closed yet. I’m all ears, pretty girl.”
You loved this.
You loved how easy things always were for you with Jess.
Everything that went unspoken still never went unsaid — sure, you’d been flirtatious friends for a while now, uncertain of quite how seriously he reciprocated your feelings, but deep down you always sort of knew.
You loved that ever since he’d come to Stars Hollow, he’d shown that he cared in his own silly little ways.
And he loved you.
And you loved him.
You sat down at his side, still clutching the book tightly as he finally looked across at you with a small smile.
“You’re such a romantic, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you,” you nudged his side teasingly, “But I— Jess I do love you, and I’ve probably loved you for a long time even though I didn’t want to let myself admit it.”
“Wow, okay Mr Darcy… Wait ‘til Luke hears that the real reason you’ve only just told me that is because you think he’s embarrassing,” he mocked, but you felt him shuffle closer, “I’ve definitely loved you for longer than I thought I had too, if it makes you feel any better.”
“Much better, Miss Bennet,” you laughed, linking your arms and leaning against his shoulder as he pressed a small kiss to the top of your head.
You felt Jess’ chest rise and fall as you closed your eyes and let the sound of the stream beneath you wash over you.
“So, like, I don’t know the protocol with the whole ‘best friends to lovers’ trope like you do, so you’re gonna have to help me out here,” Jess chuckled.
You sat back up to look at him whilst still keeping hold of his arm, “Hmm, I think what’s meant to happen next is you kiss me and ask to take me on a real date. Pretty sure that’s right.”
“Right, everyone’s favourite cliche moment,” Jess rolled his eyes jokingly but cupped your face with his palms, “God, what have you done to me?”
“You looove me,” your response was muffled as he pressed his lips to yours to shut you up, at first gently and then with a touch more urgency.
When you pulled away, he let go of your face and smiled softly, “So about that date?”
“You got it, Mariano,” you grinned, kissing him quickly once more as you paused, “But you’re going to have a tough time doing anything as romantic as annotating my favourite book and writing me a love note, you know.”
He scoffed, “Oh I’ve got plenty more where that came from, Y/N.”
“Is that a threat?” you giggled, leaning back into his side.
“Just you wait and see.”
———
ok so i kinda lost my way with this a bit eventually and i’m sorry it’s quite short but i had sooooo much fun writing it. i love jess so fucking much and i’m so grateful for all the jess requests i get — trying v hard to work through them asap because it’s so fun.
thanks for reading! here’s my masterlist for more <3
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yawneon · 7 months
Note
percy will a s/o that’s always sleeping🫶
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BLUE - NOISE
a/n : this is so bad 😭😭😭
pairing : in love!percy jackson x hermes kid!reader
summary : in which percy jackson has his best birthday yet.
!!! : praying for more reqs, this one is so cute, i try my best 😞, maybe the plot was the friends we made along the way, unspecified demigod reader, book percy, ooc camp, i wanted it to be rainy in camp so ITS GOINF TO RAIN 🤬, the curse of never being able to write alot returns, THIS IS SO BAD
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
people at camp could’ve sworn there had been a mix up in olympus.
you. an hermes child? what a laugh.
you had to be a kid of hypnos. you slept so much, how couldn’t you? genuinely you couldn’t peel yourself off your bed like ever. everyone in camp knew, you were the person in cabin 11 that won’t get out bed if not needed. alcoholics had alcohol, gamblers had casinos but you… you had something far more worse.
you had the (in your humble opinion) the most comfortable bed in all of camp. sure, it wasn’t a 5 star hotel quality but shit was it good.
and more importantly it was the beds fault that you were oh so tired all the time and you just needed to sleep more than half the day.
everyone else couldn’t care less.. your siblings would just give you a small glance before ignoring you because honestly it was more surprising to see you awake! and trust me when you started dating percy.. did this get worse.
whatever you thought about having the best bed in camp was trampled on and thrown over a cliff edge the moment you laid in percy’s bed.
not only was his bed adorned with comfortable sheets and pillows his cabin was quiet.
-
percy didn’t understand however.
how on earth could you sleep when you have the most handsome and amazing boyfriend in all of the whole universe??
he has whined and frowned at you multiple times but you’ve slickly avoided his dramatics by lathering him up with sweet and sappy comments like “im dreaming of you~” that make annabeth and grover cringe at when he goes and boasts to them.
but today,
today you couldn’t avoid the dread of getting out of bed.
-
you stood at the foot of his bed holding a plate of waffles, blue ones. it was far too early for you, (it was 8am) but it was percy’s birthday. you weren’t going to neglect your boyfriend because gods you would never hear the end of it. so you decided to go against your force of nature and got up to whip up a batch of waffles for him.
despite it being the midst of summer rain pelted down against the hard exterior of cabin 3. it didn’t rain usually in camp, the rain would usually just pass right by but maybe the gods were arguing again and the storm was especially hard this day.
sluggishly you drag your feet to stand beside the bed in which percy sleeping.
you wished that was you.
the plate adorning the blue waffles are set down on his bedside table and you place a gentle hand on his shoulder shaking him. despite your (sucky) efforts he doesn’t stir awake.
you grab his arm now with both hands and you shake him harder than before and finally does he grumble awake.
he looks up at you, confused.
“happy birthday, idiot” you pick up and hold the plate of waffles up so he could see them a tired but sweet look on your face. he sits up on his elbows and a dopey smile appears on his face, a very common smile he shines when he looks at you.
“this all for me?” percy sits up fully now taking the plate from you and he smiles bigger now gaining his full conscious. he pats the empty side of the bed next to him and you basically throw yourself into the white sheets.
despite the innate need to sink further in and take ahold of the sleep thats so desperately trying to drag you down you sit up and watch him. “you’re up, today.” percy teases, his shoulder nudging yours.
“just shut up and eat your breakfast.” you laugh softly amused by his jokes.
he begins gobbling the waffles down, scoffing down the cream on top and cleaning the plate of any remains of food. it was actually very impressive how well he ate all of it.
percy’s eyes trail to the window of his cabin his eyes watching as the raindrops pelt down at the glass and the sound of the rain hitting the walls and roof echo loudly.
-
percy places the plate back onto the bedside and looks out the window. “say aye if your in to stay home all day?” he peeks at you, another dopey smile that you just couldn’t resist is painted on his face.
you didn’t even reply to him, your arm snakes around his collarbone and you basically slump him into bed. you both lay on your back and then percy starts talking.
he always did this. percy would talk and talk and talk while you laid next to him, even if you were asleep he would keep going. just the feeling of having you next to him was comfortable so he would talk about all different kinds of things and today wasn’t any different.
you however wanted to listen to him today but oh geez was it hard.
again it wasn’t your fault that his voice was smooth and calming to listen to even of he was talking about how he fell one time and scraped his knee when he was 7. it was like ypur white noise. you already slept a fuck-ton and having a boyfriend with the most sweetest voice was not helping you.
he held your hand as he laid next to you, his eyes tracing every detail of the ceiling as his fingers dance along your palm. he starts telling you all about how his first quest went. a story you’ve heard over.. and over and over again.
“when i started my quest..” blah blah blah.
your eyes shut and all you could focus on was his voice and the noise of water hitting the window panes. his hand was warm in yours and with his free hand percy pulls the covers over the both of you so only your heads were poking out. he slips his arm under your head and his other hand grabs yours again as he keeps rambling on.
before you could fully drift off you turn into him, you could feel his eyes on you as he watches you shift and his words pause for a moment.
“i love you.” he whispers, hoping that you were asleep. you smile into his skin, a clear sign you were still all there.
“i love you too, happy birthday percy.” you half open your eyes you pull his face down by grabbing his cheeks and you kiss under his eye before moving back down.
percy flashes his signature smile before his story changes from his quest to tell you about how on his 9th birthday his mom baked him a blue cake and how it was awesome. you make a mental note to yourself before drifitng off.
you dreamt of percy that night.
let me rephrase that.
you dream of percy.
you dream of him even though he is yours.
his pretty green eyes, his black hair, his sandy skin on the beach. but more often than not you dream of him like how you are now.
cuddled up beside you, warm under the covers as he tells you about all kinds of things like how he thinks the universe was made.
you dream about him dreaming of you which you know he does (since he tells you).
you dream about the way he wants you despite your sleeping routines, you dream about the way he calls you his sleeping beauty.
yet all those dreams are the reality you live. maybe missing a few hours off of slumber isn’t all that bad when your spending it with the boy you see when you close your eyes.
-
@yawneon
421 notes · View notes
xo-cod · 1 month
Text
just like magic
a/n: fluffy fluff with price :") hope you enjoy 🤍 apologies if its ooc lmaoo, its been ages since i've written for him ☠
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"don't make me say it, i can't say the words"
rolling your eyes, choosing to ignore the words anyway you sit on the lap of your beloved husband. his lips tinted red from the wine he's consumed throughout the night, the dinner after had left him feeling a little more clingy than usual. a little more vulnerable than he cared to admit to you or to himself.
his calloused hands were wandering, trying to memorise every part on your skin even though he could map out each and every area on your body that melted for him or made you chuckle with his eyes closed. but holding onto your body, your skin as if you'd disappear away from him.
"i think that's a lie, i think you can say those words john price" accentuating his full name elicits a small groan from his lips, something about when you took charge and commanded him brought him to his knees. a side of him price didn't usually feel safe to show others but you were different. even after the months of marriage, his heart still ached with love as it had done on the first day he had the pleasure of glancing at you. as it had done on the night you had captured his heart and held it hostage
your fingers ran though his hair scratching gently on his scalp. and he relishes in it, his eyes closing out of habit as a soft appreciative hum left his lips. he can't help but rock underneath you, bringing you in as his lips barely skimmed your jaw resting softly across the corner on your lip.
"you're a menace, you know that?" his grumble caresses your skin so softly causing a soft chuckle to fall from you and a hint of smile from him. he reached in for a kiss but you kept yours still, rigid.
tonight, you were on a mission. and certainly not one to settle for any less so you refused to kiss back causing price to sigh heavily already missing the affections. his hold on your waist tightened, breathing in the sweet musk of you and your perfume softly as he rests his forehead besides your shoulder. the words could just spill from him, you had him wrapped around your pretty finger and he didn't complain about it not once.
"iloveyou" he mumbles in your neck, breath tickling your chest. it makes you giggle, gently pushing him back. your hands lace with his bigger ones, shaking your head
"what was that?" you whispered, gently moving his face back into your sight. another huff leaves his lips but this time, there's amusement floating in his baby blues. scanning every part of your features, unable to fall hopelessly in love with you as the days went on. as if words could possibly do the emotions he felt deep down any justice, as if they could possibly come close to the love pouring out of him whenever you were nearby.
he leaned his forehead against your own, lips pulled in a small smile as his hands come to hold yours. he gently placed your open palm across his chest, his heartbeat a steady reminder that he was right there in your arms tucked away from everyone and everything that demanded his attention
"i love you, pretty. alright? i just..." he breaks off, breathing a little deeper than usual. it had been such a stark contrast, most of his youth and adult life protecting the world and closing off his heart from love. never daring to fall into it, knowing the tradegy and pain all too well. choosing to live in the moment with his work, the missions, the deployments, the long nights. keeping himself busy from the loneliness that threatened to swallow him whole
but then there you were, you came into life like an earthquake shattering his cold world completely. with you, he understood finally those sappy lyrics to songs he used to skip on the radio. with you, he understood why it felt like the hours in the day were just never enough.
how no one could hold a flame to the fire that burned for you inside him, the embers igniting deeper and more intense than he had ever anticipated but for once in his life, he didn't mind it. the leader to one of the most dangerous taskforce, calm and controlled in every aspect of his life but when it came to you everything slipped down the drain.
he wasn't the captain, he wasn't a solider, he was john price. yours, that was all that mattered. you tilted his world on its axis and for once in his life, he was reckless. he loved it, for how could he not? it landed him you, the you that he adored with every part of him.
"you're the reason i get up every morning and the reason i come back. it's soppy and mushy but you know have my heart, love. you always did" his voice is soft as he nears the end of his confession, his head resting against yours as he looked at your body splayed across his lap. larger hands intertwined together with yours, his fingers stroking soft circles across your knuckle.
there's really nothing more he could think of, you were in his heart and head no matter where he went. he was a man of few words but the ones he did have, he hoped you could understand the sincerity and the truth behind them
"i love you too" you whisper, tenderly holding his face between your palms. your thumbs sweep across the high points of his cheeks, hands resting gently across his beard giving into him completely. it was a magnetic pull, you couldn't help but bare your soul to him wanting to let him in.
your arms went behind his neck, pulling him towards you desperately as he all but melts in your embrace pushing you closer to his chest. as you got lost in the feeling of him, a surety had rose, lodged deep in his throat. his hands hold you as if you'll slip through his fingers, his lips on yours with a deep force that coursed through his veins. deepening the kiss as though your lips were his drug and he wouldn't be able to find his salvation anywhere.
he knew for certain one thing, it'll be you always. for as long as you will let him. for as long as you'll have him.
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woso-dreamzzz · 9 months
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Shot Through The Heart III
Alexia Putellas x Archer!Reader
Summary: You're pregnant
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"Don't."
Alexia backed away quickly, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.
"I was just-"
"No."
"Amor-"
"No, Alexia. I'm pregnant, not an invalid."
You got to your feet and stretched, ignoring the way that Alexia hovered uncertainly as you balanced the laundry basket on your hip on your way up the stairs.
"I can carry it." She trailed you everywhere you went. "You shouldn't be carrying such heavy things. The babies-"
"The babies will be fine and, unless you're going through twenty kits daily, this basket barely weighs anything."
Your pregnancy hadn't come as a surprise. You and Alexia had been trying for a while before it worked. It had been decided that you would carry, your sport was a lot less physically taxing than Alexia's. It was all going smoothly until you had gone to a scan one day to find out that you weren't having one baby girl like you thought.
You were having two.
Alexia, of course, had taken mother henning to the extreme when she had found out, hovering incessantly and staying with you as long as possible before heading to practice.
That hovering nature had extended to every aspect of your life the moment that you started showing.
She trailed you up the stairs, opening the wardrobe doors for you when you started to fold the clothes.
"Alexia," You said in warning when she started dividing everything up.
"Amor," She said back," I'm just helping."
You swatted at her with a t-shirt. "You're being a nuisance and you're hovering. Again. Cut it out."
"I'm not hovering!" She insisted, still very clearly hovering.
"You are." You rolled your eyes, bending down to grab the socks that had fallen on the floor.
"I'm not!"
"Alexia," You said, putting the last of the laundry away," You are most certainly hovering." You turned to face her. "I'm fine. The girls are fine. Everything's fine."
She sighed, holding her breath in for a few seconds before releasing. "Okay. I'm sorry, amor. I just want to make sure all three of you are safe."
You press a kiss onto her cheek. "I know. If it didn't annoy me so much, I'd say it's cute how protective you are over us."
Alexia took a step forward and placed her hand daringly on your bump. "I just want you to be careful."
You rolled your eyes fondly. "What do you think I do all day while you're at work? I sit on the sofa all day and type on my laptop. You're lucky I love you or I wouldn't have taken a break from training so early."
Your bow was resting comfortably in the corner of the living room, just collecting dust after you put it aside as soon as you started to show.
You'd probably have gone on for a bit longer with your bow but it made Alexia antsy so you stopped and just continued with your interviews and writing so she would stop breaking out in hives every time you left her to go train.
Alexia spent most of her time with you on a good day but now that you were making a family together, she was adamant about staying with you until she absolutely has to. She stayed in bed for as long as possible in the morning and she didn't hang behind at training to speak with her teammates.
If the team wanted to go out together, she either bowed out or changed the get-together to your shared house so she could hold your hand and rest her head on your shoulder.
"Names?" You asked one evening as you rested on the sofa with Alexia massaging your swollen feet.
"Whatever you want," She replied," I don't mind."
"You must have some opinion, Ale," You said," Don't tell me you have no ideas."
"You're carrying them," Alexia said," You have all the power here, amor. I'm just happy that I'm the one you chose to take along for this ride."
"You're so sappy," You said with a fond eye roll," You have no opinions? What about middle names?"
Alexia's face got a little red and she couldn't meet your eyes for a moment. "I'd like for one to be Elisabet, after Mama."
"Good idea," You said," And for the other one?"
"I was thinking either Alba or María but I don't know if I want either of them to get a bigger head than they already have."
"I think if Alba's head gets any bigger then it might roll off her neck," You joked and finally got a little smile out of your wife.
"What about you?" She asked," You asked about names. You must have some in mind."
You stared at the picture of your most recent ultrasound, tracing over each of your babies.
"Baby A could be Elena," You said," Baby B...Maybe Maya."
"I like them," Alexia replied," Elena and Maya Putellas-l/n."
"Maya Elisabet," You smiled," And Elena...Well, you'll just have to decide which one you'd prefer to inflate the ego of."
"Elena María but Alba can be godmother."
Maya and Elena came into the world two days after an El Clásico win for Barcelona. Two little crying babies that fit easily in your arms rounded out a perfect week for you and Alexia.
"Perfect girls," Alexia said as she admired them before looking over at you in pure contentment," My three perfect girls."
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devvelle · 2 years
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how they act when they miss you, part 2
Genre: fluff, as always <3
Characters: all second years (Floyd, Jade, Azul, Riddle, Ruggie, Jamil, Kalim, and Silver) x gn!reader
Scenario: you're away for a few weeks and they have to find ways to get by until you return.
Notes: I got a very sweet request from an anon to make a part two of this post. reader is kind of implied to be the prefect, and the reason for the absence is up to your imagination!
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Floyd Leech ;
My condolences. He's really mad at you.
It does not matter if the reason you left was life or death. You left him and he's taking it personally.
You'd expect Floyd to reach out constantly through phone calls or text messages for attention, but no. He's ignoring you and being very passive aggressive when he is in the mood to reply.
For the most part, you keep in touch with him through Ace, who video calls you to complain after basketball practices and games. Floyd has a tendency to get aggressive when he's upset, and that reflects in his presence on the court. Not even his teammates are safe.
Inevitably, if you're gone long enough, he'll cave and give up the silent treatment. He'll start answering your calls but it's mostly to talk over you and say he won't listen to your apologies until you return to him.
Please return quickly. Ace can't handle losing more braincells from a concussion at the hands of Floyd, and Jamil's patience is wearing thin.
Jade Leech ;
Jade is very composed in your absence. You don't need to worry about him.
He misses you, of course, but he is considerate of your limited time to check in. He'll send good morning messages for you to wake up to but will keep them short to avoid holding you up.
Your leave gives him a golden opportunity, though. He can take this time to negotiate with (scare off) anyone else who thinks they can compete for your affection. Don't worry about the specifics…
In turn, his success ensures that you're only calling and texting him. No one else dares reply to you after Jade is through with them.
Being without you reinforces his dream of a future where you're never apart. You, him, a modest home in the coral sea... you get the picture. He's very sure this is what he wants.
He knows that's not exactly in the cards at the moment considering how unstable things are, but he's hopeful it'll become a reality someday. So he copes for now.
Overall, Jade keeps himself busy so he does just fine. Just don’t ask what he was up to.
Azul Ashengrotto ;
Acts kinda pathetic but hides it so no one will ever know.
The twins definitely know.
Azul will spend lots of time by himself in his office at the lounge. If he closes his eyes and clears his mind, he can picture you walking around, mug in hand, talking to him about your day. Traces of you are scattered everywhere, from your clothes to your scent on the couch cushions, and it helps him feel some semblance of comfort in your absence.
Sweet, right?
But then he sets his phone to airplane mode so he can text you all the sappy ‘I miss you’ messages he wants without risking them going through.
Accidentally falls asleep with his phone open, though, so Floyd adjusts his settings and makes them all send. Thanks Floyd.
Will not acknowledge your teasing replies. He is far too busy dying of embarrassment, much to Floyd and Jade's amusement.
Have fun confronting him in person when he's a blushing, stuttering mess <3
Riddle Rosehearts ;
Missing you really puts Riddle on edge.
Since he still has trouble with voicing his emotions, he won't be open about his worries. If confronted by Trey or Cater about his nerves, he might acknowledge his feelings for the sake of personal growth. But it's unlikely; he's embarrassed.
What he does do is keep a journal. He writes about how his days feel emptier without you and even addresses you directly when admitting his feelings.
It's nice to not worry about being eloquent when all he wants is to talk about you.
After a while, he'll start wishing he'd asked you to stay. He's aware it would have been a childish ask, but you're magicless and defenseless in a lot of situations. What if you ran into something dangerous?
Insists you text him right before bed each night. Otherwise, he won’t be able to sleep.
Quickly worries himself sick, to no one’s surprise. Sick and anxious Riddle now has everyone on edge.
He really needs to see you in person again to feel better. Come back and take care of him.
Ruggie Bucchi ;
Simultaneously gets by just fine and really poorly.
He constantly forgets you're gone but when he realizes again, it weighs on him quite a bit.
He has a bad habit of stealing snacks and at some point he started stealing some for you too. This doesn't stop even in your absence.
What does change, however, is his disappointment when he gets back to his lunch table and realizes you aren't there.
He'll eat most of the snacks himself, grumbling all the while, but will save the treats he knows you really like. They start piling up in his room.
Also, right before you left, he stole back all the clothes he had lent you over the past few months so he could wear them. Gets very defensive when Leona questions why he's only worn the same two sweatshirts for the past week (they smell like you).
The attachment he has to you is strong, but even Ruggie is weak to heartache in your absence. Remind him how important he is with lots of quality time when you're back.
Jamil Viper ;
Biggest sap ever award goes to him.
Jamil may not love befriending new people or showing his softer side, but you're his chosen one. He doesn't mind if it's for you.
Listens to recordings of your voice to keep himself calm when life (Kalim) is testing him. Normally he can pull you aside to talk since you're always happy to listen, but seeing as you aren't available, your voice is the next best thing.
That voice message you sent months ago shyly asking him to spend lunch with you? Yeah, he's replayed it more times than he can count.
When that isn't doing the trick anymore, he'll ask you to record yourself talking about your day. Tease him all you want, but his sanity is at stake here.
He is also not afraid to double or triple text you if you don't have a chance to respond. Will consistently ask if you're eating at meal times and send you pictures of what he's up to as well.
Be warned that when you get back, you're getting an earful from him for leaving him alone. Nothing a hug can’t fix.
Kalim Al-Asim ;
Counting down the days until you return.
Such a sweetheart. Spends all his free moments making plans for when you get back, but nothing as grand as you might fear.
Over the course of your evolving relationship, he's learned that he really enjoys time with only you. So his idea for a welcome home party is just a sweet picnic!
He wants to hear all about what you've been up to in person. So he won't ask you much while you're away, and will wait until he has you in front of him to make up for lost time.
If it turns out that you're too busy to chat or call, he'll make you a really cute playlist instead. Adds songs to it when he misses you, which is basically all the time.
It ends up being a very long playlist. But a banger of course.
When you're back, expect the craziest picnic ever. You will be buried in his affection.
Silver ;
You already live in Silver's dreams, but when you're gone, his longing for you makes them even more realistic than before.
His dreams are of a domestic life at your side, usually in a distant, happy future. But he'll wake up from them reaching out for you only to find that he's alone.
He really wants you to see him as someone worthy of a place at your side. So he'll call every few days to ask how you're doing and provide a distraction from your stressors.
Since his demeanor is always relaxed, the only people to inquire about how he's doing without you are Lilia and Malleus. Even then, he's likely to dismiss their questions so as not to worry them.
What does he do instead? He complains to his animal friends, of course.
Although, it's hardly complaining when he's rambling about how astonishing you are. Eventually, he'll derail to the discomfort he feels being away from you and how he wishes he could be there to protect you.
The animals wish they could show him how lovesick he looks. Hurry back.
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a/n : I didn't realize until a few days ago that Silver doesn't have a last name and I was so shocked bc how did I not think abt that before...
I hope u guys enjoy this one! These were fun. Come talk to me in my inbox abt stuff if u want <3333 kisses
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eetherealgoddess · 8 months
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ꨄBeneath The Watersꨄ
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Oneshot - Yandere Mermen/Soulmate Au
❦Y/n, a new marine biologist, was working along with her older brother and coworkers on a trawler. They come across the most ethereal yet dangerous sea creatures. Survival rate? Guess who the one percent is❦
Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader
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Not fully proofread
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
Mermaid language is blue
I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.
The guys are mermen princes and they’re all brothers. Their dad is the king so because of their royal blood, they have the gift of singing which puts their victims in a trance, and can form legs. They can also change any human they want into mermaids. They can understand human language but have a harder time speaking it. ‘Human’ language is all languages btw I’m just doing english bc that’s the only language I know.
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There will be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
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Beneath the Waters
“Did you receive the latest sample for the lab, Y/n?” Darius, her older brother asks as he stands beside her resting form on the trawler. The waves of the ocean rocking the ride slightly as the current carries them on.
“Yes, for the fiftieth time.” She sighs, sitting up from her leaned position against the side of the boat. She pulls her sunglasses off as she places them inside of her backpack. He nods in response as he chuckles.
“Sorry, I just want to make sure you have everything.” He scratches the back of his head with a sheepish smile. She smirks light heartedly as she shifts her arms to rest against her knees which are bent as the platform of her shoes are plastered against the floor.
“There’s nothing to be worried about. I got this! Yeah, I’m new to this thing but you know more than anyone else that I’m a fast learner when I put my mind to something.” She states, waving her hands as she gives him a comforting smile.
He sighs as he looks across the water, “Yeah, yeah I know.” He places his hands in his pockets. “I’m proud of you, Y/n. You’ve come far in this industry.”
“Don’t get all sappy on me now, dude.” She laughs, standing from her spot after their coworkers are heard yelling. She eyes her brother with a raised brow, him mimicking the same expression out of confusion.
The trawler rocks as they walk toward the gathering of individuals, four of them bent as they seem to be pulling a net from the outer side of the boat. Everyone else stands around them. When she gets closer, her eyes widen as she notices a large pink tail flapping around the net violently.
One of the men seems to be holding it down as the woman beside him moves her arms around as if she’s wrapping something quickly. Y/n and Darius walk beside one of the designated divers.
“Check this baby out!” She exclaims, standing from her position as she moves out of the way. Y/n’s eyes widen at the sight of an ethereal looking man. Despite his narrowed icy blue eyes glaring at the employees, nobody could deny the intense beauty of the man’s face. His blonde eyelashes cause his irises to pop as his long platinum hair lays out gorgeously under him, some falling over his shoulders.
Once his wrists are tied, they pull him over the boat, still wrapped in the net as he struggles against his restraints. His long nails, sharp as he accidentally cuts his own skin. Y/n could only look as she felt guilt suddenly overtake her mind. After they bound his tail, holding it down, Y/n had enough.
“I think we should let i-, him go, guys.” Everyone, except the mermaid turns to look at her as if she just grew two heads. Her hands place themselves on her hips as she eyes them back.
“Y/n, you’re new so I’m just going to let this slide. You see, this is a one chance in a lifetime kind of deal, you get it? We’d be the second in years to have not only discovered, but captured a real life mermaid. There’s no way we’re letting him go.”
“But why can’t we just study them down in the ocean as we swim? I know that some can be dangerous but not all of them are.” She suggests.
“Because they are dangerous creatures as a whole. They don’t just think like a fish they can act and think like a human which is bad for us. Not to mention, we’re their choice of food besides other species of fish.”
“I get that but we have gear for that, don’t we?”
“Y/n, stop! Okay? It’s fine, they can breathe for at least twenty four hours outside of water and we’ll put it in a secure tank. If you’re worried about its well-being, it will be fine.” Darius explains, trying to keep her from getting fired.
The blonde merman’s eyes shift back and forth between the two humans conversing, particularly observing the woman who is speaking for the merman. Under the cloth, he licks his lips as he smells the divine scent spewing from the female, closing his eyes as he inhales. The smell brings his tense body to a tingling, relaxed sensation, a deep purr emitting from his body as his eyes shut.
“Fine, alright! I’m sorry. I’ll leave it alone.” She sighs, crossing her arms as she turns away, refusing to look at the creature with pity.
“Alright, everyone! Let’s get this show rolling!”One guy says as they walk over to the netted merman. Before any could move any further, a high pitched whistle sounded in the air, causing everyone to pause. Y/n’s eyes widen in concern as some of the coworkers stop their movements. Everyone stares across the ocean, over the being that’s lying down.
“Shit! Everyone, grab the ear plugs!” Someone yells out.
Y/n immediately turns her body as she runs to her bag. Roughly grabbing the ear plugs as she shoves them into her ears as the sound of a melody occurs. She sighs in relief as she stands from her crouched position, sound muffled as she turns around. Her breath hitches as she watches everyone slowly walk towards the edge of the trawler as they look to be in a trance.
“No!” She yells as she runs to Darius, roughly gripping his arms as she pulls him in a hug, his heavy body walking ahead as if she weighs nothing.
“No! Please, Darius! Wake up!” She smacks his face multiple times as he continues his stroll.
A muffled tune could be heard once more through her ear plugs as she eyes the ocean, four heads peeking from below as only their eyes are shown glaring at the crowd coming toward them.
“Fuck! Darius, wake up! Please!” She runs quickly to grab a random pair of ear plugs dropped from the others. She runs back to him, shoving them into his ears. Unfortunately, the melody is already pulling him in.
She runs to the edge as she blocks him from moving further, though he tries. She turns her body slightly to face the other sea creatures as all the other people climb over the trawler and hop into the water as they swim toward the predators.
“You already have enough, don’t take him goddamnit!” She shrieks. Her nails scrape against the paint as she holds on to the edge as he attempts to push her to the side.
The blonde watches the display as he observes her distressed state. He shakes the feeling of wanting to nurture her, guiding her into letting go of that useless human considering his restraints and her species. The scent gets the best of him as his tail tingles, moaning softly as his eyes roll into the back of his head, the fumes becoming overwhelming as a cold heat fills his body.
The four glare curiously as they ignore their incoming meal to watch the girl struggle. The one with black hair and blonde streaks tilts his head as he watches her actions. He disappears under the water as his yellow tail splashes the water. The other three ethereal beings use their nails and sharp teeth to shred the flesh of their victims.
“Darius, please wake up.” She cries, tears finally falling as he continues to struggle in her hold. The yellow tailed male peaks above the water closest to the trawler as he eyes Y/n.
She makes eye contact with his brown irises. He emerges from the water slightly.
“L-…let go. Too l-late.“ His soft voice struggles to speak English as the human language differs from the sea.
She gasps as she fully turns her body to face the male.
“No! I can-!” Darius shoves her to the side, almost knocking her over as he dives into the water.
“DARIUS!” She releases a blood curdling scream as she runs for him, only to be forced back by the merman jumping from the water and pushing her on her back as he falls on top of her. His tail fits in between her legs as his claws hold on to her wrists. She struggles under him as he uses his heavy body weight to hold her down. Goosebumps form on her body as the water drips onto her from all over, including his hair that drapes over both of them. The symbols embedded into his skin, black and prominent as she analyzes her situation.
“Get off of me! I need to save him!” She yells. He shakes his head as he inhales her scent, his grip tightening when the addictive fumes reach deep into his nostrils. Her eyes widen when his head drops to her shoulder, smearing the water against her neck. Rustling causes both to turn their heads toward the merman who they originally came to the trawler for. The man on top of her points to his restrained sibling.
She ignores him, peaking over his shoulder as the sound of screams and shredding could be heard, muffled through her ear plugs. She grits her teeth as all she could see was red covering the area, splashes here and there but no sign of any humanity. No sign of her brother.
She releases a strangled cry as the emotional pain takes its toll, realization creeping in as she finds it hard to accept her brother’s demise. Her head drops to the floor as her eyes shut tight, tears and snot mixing together as she weeps. The man on top stares in awe as the moisture falls from her eyes, gaining the knowledge of a human being able to express such heart wrenching emotions for another. He uses one hand to hold both wrists as he uses the other to trace the streak of tears. He eases his face lower as she sobs, slowly leaning in to lick the tears before a hiss sounds from the side, reminding him of why he’s here.
He pulls back, using his hand to gently smack her cheek to gain her attention, succeeding as she opens her lids.
“R-release?” He demands, though it comes out more softly as he knows she’s in a vulnerable state.
“Fine.” She whispers, voice hoarse as she sits up from her position. He shifts his body to allow her to stand up. The pink tailed man stares at her as she walks toward him. He observes her intently as she releases his restraints, including the cloth around his mouth causing her eyes to slightly widen as she notices the scars shaping his lips. She also notices the blood staining his wrists from when he cut himself. He sits up as they face each other. She yelps as she grabs his wrist by reflex when his hand wraps around her throat and pulls her in.
He inhales her scent deeply as he breathes heavily, revealing his sharp teeth as blood rushes to his face. She watches with concern, kneeling as he pulls her once more. His nose reaches the side of her neck as he takes in more air. It’s only in this instance that the feeling of danger comes back, as she is now alone on this boat with these man-eating creatures.
She removes his hand gently as he allows her to before standing back.
“I have to leave so everyone just needs to get off this boat so I can.” She sniffs, wiping her eyes as well as her nose. She hears a muffled shriek as she turns to the end of the boat where the other three mermen float. Her body tenses as she sees faint blood dripping from the corner of the black haired one’s mouth, his dark eyes boring into hers. Seemingly, at the same time the three men inhaled the air before the blonde and black haired man on the left opened his mouth, indicating his singing as she could hear a muffled hum through her ear plugs.
“No, you can’t eat me.” She growls, pointing to her ears as her eyes narrow. “Haven’t you had enough anyway?”
She eyes the faint colors of their tails, two of them being a matching purple while the middle blends in with the darkness of the ocean, a little darker indicating that it’s black. She turns on her heel as she begins to walk to the wheel, luckily having the knowledge of driving this kind of boat. After hearing the water swish, she hears footsteps behind her, she turns quickly, hoping it to be another human. Her breath hitches as her eyebrows raise when she sees the men climbing on the boat with their newfound scaly legs, a pale hue that matches with their individual tail colors, though shimmering as they walk. Her eyebrows furrow at the nakedness, quickly looking away as her face warms. To the side, she sees that the yellow and pink tailed men are now standing on their own pair of feet.
How could I forget that the most powerful of mermaids can shift their tails to walk on land? They’re also the same type to even use their voices as a weapon. They even have tattoos that symbolize their royalty! What did we get ourselves into?
She internally gulps as they all stand intimidatingly across from her. She looks around for any weapon near her, unfortunately one not in her eyesight whatsoever.
“Shit.” She whispers. All she could do is stand alert as she watches them, attempting to cover her evident fear as she eyes the murderous creatures standing in front of her.
She eyes them as she notices all inhaling intensely, furrowing her brows when she observes through her peripheral how their bare cocks erect the more they inhale. Besides the very light hue of their normal tail colors covering their erections, it looks human for the most part besides that and their size. Nothing too big but bigger than the average human.
She shrieks as the blonde and blue haired man and his black haired twin run full speed towards her, grabbing her arms before she had time to move. They hold her arms, long nails slightly piercing her skin as they grip her, all forcing themselves on the ground to kneel as they force her to sit on her bottom.
She breathes heavily as she watches the other three get closer. She struggles harder as she yanks her arms. One of the grips actually uses his claw to scratch her skin, splitting it slightly as he leans to her ear.
“Stop it!” The blonde and blue haired man hisses, giving her a painful squeeze as the blood drips down her arm. She yelps as she stops pulling.
“Big brother, what are we going to do with her?” The pink man asks, her eyebrows furrowing at the differing language that consists of croaks and low shrieks.
“Take those things out of her ears.” He answers. The black haired twin listens as he uses one hand to take out both ear plugs and throws them to the side, causing her to gasp.
“Get away from me!” She yells.
The short man walks forward before crouching in front of her, kneeling and crawling half way on to her body. His cold skin drips with water as it falls on her. He inhales her scent once more as his palm holds her cheek. She sits frozen in fear, not anticipating what comes out of his mouth.
“Mate.” He states in her language. Her eyes widen as she pulls back.
“N-no! Humans don’t have mates!” She exclaims.
“Mate.” She hears the others whisper.
“No, absolutely not!” She shakes her head, frowning at the creatures surrounding her.
“Sanzu, Kazutora, secure her legs.” They comply by grabbing her legs and pulling her to lie on her back as the other two secure her arms down.
“What are you doing?” She questions, anxious thoughts forming as the worst case scenarios appear. He climbs higher as his hair drapes over both of their faces. His dark eyes staring at her with intensity and determination.
“Mikey.” He says, wanting to hear his name from her lips. She pauses as she hears his words.
“Mikey, please get off of me! All of you, just go away! I want to go home!” She exclaims in frustration, wanting privacy and peace to mourn before having to contact their facility about the deaths.
“Home?” The older brother on the left asks, his purple eyes observing her as he points over to the ocean. “O-our, no…. y-your home.” He nods.
“No, no, no that is not my home! I am not your mate! I’m not anyone’s mate, I’m human!” She reasons, hoping to get that through their heads. She yells in pain when she feels a harsh scratch on her leg, blood oozing from the wound.
“Y-you are mate!” Sanzu hisses, his nail paused against the end of her wound with his other hand wrapped around her ankle. Kazutora grips her other leg tighter as a frown falls on his face to the rejection, his eyebrows furrowing. The twins glare at her as they also give her a warning squeeze, involving the tip of their nails. She breathes heavily as she tries to ignore the pain.
“N-no, I’m not! I can’t be because I’m -!” She’s cut off by cold lips smashing on hers, Mikey gripping her chin painfully as he roughly combines their lips. His other hand grabs her shoulder as his naked chest is pressed against her clothed breasts. His erection pressed in between her legs.
The two brothers above her bend their bodies to gain better access to her neck as they satisfy their taste buds. Nipping and sucking as they bruise her skin. Sanzu licks the blood of her wound, slowly savoring the taste. Kazutora purrs as he caresses her other leg, removing her shoe and sock, throwing them to the side. Sanzu does the same so he can smell more of her sweet flesh.
“Rin, let’s release the stimulant.” The oldest twin says. He nods his head as they both bare their sharp teeth, piercing her skin as they release the venom. She let out a scream as the pain was sudden and prominent.
“Oh, God!” She exclaims against Mikey’s lips as the feeling becomes unbearable, the throbbing in her neck reaching all over her body.
“Ah.” She breathes out as the feeling turns into an intense sensation, tingling and arousal surrounding her body as her nipples harden and clit gains a heartbeat. Wet slick forms, beginning the breeding process her body has been forced into. Her chest rises and lowers as she breathes deeply, her eyelids heavy as her body yearns to be bred.
“Fuck, n-no! L-let me go.” She whines, sobbing as her reproductive system takes over, her clit pounding as her hips slightly buck against Mikey’s erection. She shivers as they all smile in content, smelling her heat as her pheromones fill their nostrils, turning them on even more.
Rin rips her shirt open, revealing her bra as she yelps. Mikey grabs her hand from the other twin as he wraps his lips around her finger, slowly suckling as he sits himself on top of her torso, using his other hand to trace from her chest to her stomach, lightly scraping his nails against her skin. Both twins rip her bra apart, revealing her diamond hard nipples, her gasping at the cold air hitting her breasts.
She begins to struggle against their holds, only to regret it as Mikey pulls her finger out and chomps on her hand as a warning, drawing blood. She cries out, tears falling as her mind conflicted with the sensations all over her body. He returns to suckling her fingers and tracing her skin, licking the blood up as well. The twins move to grab her breasts as both use their tongues to lick her nubs, Rin roughly pulling and nibbling her as his brother gently sucks and kisses her other. She could only breathe heavily as they continued their assault.
Kazutora and Sanzu tore her pants, spreading her legs as far as they could while gripping her thighs with one hand. Both men position their heads between her legs before using a claw to slice her panties off, leaving her wet and bare for them to see. Her head falls back as her clit throbs, anticipating contact but only bucking her hips against the air.
Kazutora leans in as he gives a slow and light kiss on her clit, her twitching at the contact. She bites her lip to remain in control, not moaning out or begging for more. Sanzu retracts his nails to a normal size, using his finger to scrape her juices and wrap his lips around his own finger, quietly moaning as her taste reaches his tongue. Kazutora takes her whole clit in his mouth, sucking her clit as he bobs his head slowly.
“Oh my god.” She whispers, the sensations becoming overwhelming as she feels Sanzu gathering more slick and entering a finger into her vagina. Mikey takes the opportunity to lick all around her hand and wraps her fingers around his cock. She attempts to pull back but his hold is tighter.
“P-please? N-need it.” He says softly. Although she’s almost blinded by pleasure, she wants to end everything as fast as possible. She begins to move her hand up and down at a steady pace. He moans as he thrusts back into her hand.
“Feels good, Mikey?” He teases.
“Shut up, Ran.” He whispers as his head falls back, thrusting a little harder as his cock pulsates. He grabs her wrist to balance himself. Her head is pulled to the side as the blonde and blue haired man eases the head of his cock to her mouth. She shakes her head and attempts to turn away. He keeps his hold on her head as he grabs her nipple roughly.
“B-bite off.” He growls, threatening her as his cock throbs in her face. He releases her nipple when she nods and opens her mouth. He shoves his erection all the way to the back of her throat. He grunts as he pulls back and enters again. She whimpers around his cock as she feels two fingers hitting her g spot as a tongue flicks her clit. She grinds her hips subconsciously, seeking more as they continue to stimulate her.
Both Rin and Mikey moan as they thrust into her, eyes rolling in the back of their heads as their hair flops against their back. Ran reaches for his own cock as he plays with her nipples.
Suddenly, an idea popping into his head, he restrains his thrusts as he gives her hand to Ran. He positions his cock between her breasts and squeezes them together. Mikey thrusts her chest as he purrs. Ran takes the opportunity to wrap her fingers around his cock, essentially the same idea with Mikey a minute ago.
Kazutora and Sanzu stop their motions, their dicks tense and in need of assistance, dripping as they throb.
“Guys, readjust so I can get behind her.”
They ignore him until he lets out an ear piercing shriek, causing her to groan in pain for her ears. This gets everyone’s attention so he repeats himself. Everyone readjusts so that he she lies on top of him, her ass rubbing against his abdomen.
Mikey stays sitting on top of her in the same position and fits his cock back in between her breasts. Sanzu sits behind Mikey, positioning his cock to her entrance. Rin reconnects his erection with her mouth as well as Ran using her hand.
She cries out when Kazutora and Sanzu shove their cocks inside of her until they reach the end of her walls, deeply stuffing themselves inside of her slowly. Kazutora grips her hips as Sanzu grips her legs. Both men pull back as they slam back in, the slick coming from their cocks moisturizing her up enough to enter, besides her own slick.
She grunts loudly as they fill her up, her body being used every which way as her nipples are pinched occasionally. The men’s beautiful moans echo in the middle of the ocean, enticing her as she feels nothing but intense pleasure. The wet squelching sounds of their cocks connecting with her skin accelerate as they move faster.
Her own walls tighten around Kazutora and Sanzu’s cocks, pulling them in as they push, sinking deeper into her as Sanzu hits her cervix. The feeling of her body bouncing with movement was enough to send her over the edge as her body is very sensitive from the stimulant.
“Mm, s’ fucking good.” Kazutora whispers as he takes her ear into his mouth. His grip tightening, leaving indents in her skin. His thrusts are steady and hard as her asshole grips him.
Mikey breathes hard as slight moans draw from his lips occasionally, almost slamming his cock against her chin as he relentlessly thrusts his hips. Sanzu moans as he leaned over her lower body, thrusting hard as he bites his bottom lip.
“Good fucking girl. So fucking good for me.” Rin’s head falls back as he fucks her mouth. He holds her head in place with both hands as he rises closer and closer. Ran releases breathy moans as his jaw falls slightly open, gripping her wrist tightly as he gets close.
She moans loudly as she releases, the men following behind as Sanzu and Kazutora cum deep inside her, semen falling out of her holes as there was too much to fit all of it. Mikey’s cum reaches her chin and chest as Ran hits the side of her head. Rin cums in her throat, forcing her to stay in the same place.
After taking a moment to breathe, everyone removes themself as she lies there with tears in her eyes, worn out as she breathes heavily.
“We should change her now and then breed her when we’re home.” Ran states, leaning back against his arms as he sits on the ground.
“No, we should mate her and then change her.” Rin argues.
“No, sex now and then we mate her. I want to breed her.” Mikey pouts.
They continue their argument, Kazutora and Sanzu joining in as Y/n watches the brothers argue weakly.
“How about we mate her, breed and then change her.”
“It wouldn’t make sense to breed her up here.”
“Fine, let’s mate, change her and then finish breeding.”
She would’ve used this opportunity to escape if the stimulant hadn’t weakened her body. She can barely shift on her own comfortably. A hand rubs her forehead as it caresses her cheek. Tears fall as she mourns her brother, coworkers, and life before this moment. She couldn’t even fight as she lay in despair, awaiting her fate to live in the ocean and be tied to these creatures forever.
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chiefdirector · 10 months
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I'm feeling kinda sappy.
Could I ask for a story where Gibbs gets married to the reader and she moves into his house. Gibbs is away on a case and maybe she starts going through boxes in the basement and digs up pictures of his mom, dad, Kelly and Shannon. She hangs up a bunch of their pictures on a wall. Gibbs comes home sees it. He stares at it and is very quiet. The reader is nervous but then Gibbs tells her it's perfect and no one he's ever been married to wanted to honor them like this.
we keep this love in a photograph... | Jethro Gibbs | NCIS
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I know it isn't exactly how you asked, but i took a few liberties, hope you don't mind
-
(Y/N) knew she shouldn't have been snooping around, it could break the trust that she worked so hard to earn, but she couldn't resist. Jethro had recently asked her to move in with him, a big step considering the nature of their relationship. They had to work together and trust that their lives would be safe in the other's hands, but living together meant not only trusting your life with someone, but opening it up to them too.
She knew that Jethro had a past filled with too much sorrow for one man to carry alone. He had tried to bury it in failed marriage after failed marriage, eventually resigning himself to the bachelor lifestyle. He had tried to continue his ways when he met her, but she was something new, something unexpected.
Vance had given (Y/N) the day off to move her stuff in and get settled fully. She had spent countless nights and weeks here with her lover but had never really left anything here except a toothbrush and a spare set of clothes. She never really needed anything more. It was easy enough to part ways with most of her belongings, sofas and dinings chairs never meant all to much anyways. Managing to fit most of her stuff her a pick-up truck, she had set off to her new home.
It was only when she opened the old hallway cupboard to store her now empty suitcases did she find the box. It wasn't labeled, but the creases and fingermarks on the cardboard showed that it had been opened and shut rigorously over the years. The rest of Jethro house was meticulously organised, there wasn't anything that didnt have its own place. Nothing was stored where it wasn't meant to. Especially old boxes.
Slowly, she opened the box and peered inside, being greeted by several picture frames. Most of them were empty, or cracked. There was no reason to keep any of them. Still she flicked through the frames. Lifting the last, she made eye contact with a young redhead holding a small infant. Even though (Y/N) didn't recognise the faces, she knew who they belonged to; Shannon and Kelly.
Quickly, she put the box back, but left the final frame out. She placed it on the sofa before trekking down to the basement, her mind focussed on one thing only.
----
Jethro got home hours after the sunset.
The house was quiet and still, he had expected as much. After toeing off his shoes, made his was through the house, intending to set the coffee maker ready for the morning. One less thing to think about in the far too early hours of the day. He stopped before he made it to the kitchen.
Jethro wasn't a man that hesitated, but the sight of his smiling wife and daughter handing on the wall made him freeze. Her bright eyes and red hair was the last thing he had expected to see, but after the day he had, he couldn't be more thankful.
He took a moment, turning to his left to find (Y/N) laying on the couch, nails and hammer strewn messily on the coffee table. Her engagement ring shone in the moonlight. Gently, he shook her shoulder to wake her.
(Y/N) hummed tiredly. "You're home?"
"Thank you." Jethro said, ignoring her question.
She shot up at the memory of what she had done. Making eye contact with him, then the photograph. "You don't mind. I didn't overstep, did I?"
"Not at all." Jethro sat next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder to pull her onto his chest. "Not at all."
Tags:
@innercreationflower
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ldrfanatic · 5 months
Text
Slytherin Boys as 1989 Songs
+ bonus! the slytherin boys as romance tropes
I decided to shake this one up a bit and do all happy love songs
here's 1989 (tv ofc); which taylor swift album should i do next?
(mattheo riddle, draco malfoy, theo nott, lorenzo berkshire)
slytherin boys masterlist works
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mattheo riddle as I Know Places
best lyric(s) - "let them say what they want we won't here it" + "love's a fragile little flame it could burn out" + "just grab my hand and don't ever drop it"
trope - enemies to lovers :)
mattheo w a crush - in love, mattheo is somewhere in the middle between being sappy and just straight up insulting you. not like calling you ugly or anything but like "damn i didn't know it was possible to mess up such an easy spell" like kind of teasing. he's one of those guys that will be mean at first and then be like playfully mean and then finally, will start being nice to you but only sometimes. he just thinks you're adorable when you're angry.
mattheo as a boyfriend - now as a boyfriend, mattheo still teases the hell out of you but god forbid literally anyone else does bc he'll kill them. like actually. also the pair of you go through a little bit of a rough patch during the war and he keeps telling you that you have to stay way from him but secretly, he's really happy that you never actually listen to him because he doesn't know what he would do without you. he just kind of ignores all the whispers and hogwarts becomes your guys' like safe little happy love bubble.
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draco malfoy as Out of the Woods
best lyric(s) - "the rest of the world was black and white, but we were in screaming color" + "when you started crying baby i did too, when the sun came up i was looking at you" + "I walked out I said 'i'm setting you free' but the monsters turned out to be just trees"
trope - everyone can see it except for you
draco w a crush - I think draco would be the kind of guy that actively avoided his crush. like if you were sitting in the very front of transfigurations, he was sitting in the absolute furthers corner in the back. If you were going on the hogsmeade trip, he was begging his friends would leave him to simmer in his affections for you. he's just so nervous and so certain you'll dislike him that he'd rather not talk to you at all. when he finally does work up the courage, he's extremely happy and like eternally grateful that you'd give him a chance.
draco as a boyfriend - i do think though that draco is not always the best at communicating just because he always wants everything to be so perfect and he doesn't want there to be anything that he says that could make you resent him so he'd rather not say anything at all. obv, this doesn't work out well for him cause like... communicating w you is so essential. y'all get into arguments fairly regularly but you always end up making up because he's always just creating those demons in his head and it's almost never that serious.
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theodore nott as Suburban Legends
best lyric(s) - "you were so magnetic it was almost obnoxious" + "when you hold me, it holds me together and you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever" + "you'd be more than a chapter in my old diaries with the pages ripped out"
trope - hopeless romantic
theo w a crush - I think with a crush theo would be the kind of guy that just simps like a mf. like you need someone to carry your books, he's there, why would you even try to carry them yourself? just let him take care of it. or like, when you're not feeling well and you might need to spend a few days in the hospital wing, while you're sleeping theo sneaks in and leaves the notes for the classes you missed as well as your favorite sweets and flowers. (one time when michael corner made you cry, he beat the snot out of him and then the next day left this huge teddy bear outside your door with the note "y/n, that douchebag sucks. -tn")
theo as a boyfriend - theo's simp nature carries over when he's a bf so he's super freaking caring. he does literally everything for you. he'll brush your hair when you get out of the shower if you ask. or if you're like me and you have like thicker ethnic hair, he'll ask you to show him how to do your hair so that he can do it for you. he's also one of those guys that's like casually dominant. like hand on your lower back in a crowd, opening your doors, reaching up and grabbing things from the top shelf for you. naturally protective in the sense of like he always wants to sleep closest to the door in case something happens and like is also always making sure you eat and get enough water.
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lorenzo berkshire as "Slut!"
lyric(s) - "and if i'm gonna be drunk, i might as well be drunk in love" + "and i break down then he's pulling me in. in a world of boys he's a gentleman" + "got love struck went straight to my head"
trope - friends to lovers
enzo w a crush - enzo is the kind of guy who's not afraid to be in love. he actually loves it. he loves having someone to compliment and shower in gifts and win over. where mattheo would tease you, draco would avoid you, and theo would lose himself in you, enzo is the guy who would bring you inexplicable joy and make sure you knew that it was him that was bringing you joy. not to say that he wouldn't do sweet gestures and such but he's the sort of guy that will make you his best friend and then make you fall in love with him.
enzo as a boyfriend - because of this, you and enzo are like those like childhood friends turned lovers type of thing. he just knows you so well and the love between you two comes so easily. he makes it his personal mission to make you smile at least once a day. as your boyfriend, he's just really playful. things like pillow fights and tickle fights. he's also that boyfriend that will do all those little stupid tiktok trends with you but like really energetically and not just like half-assed bc if it's gonna make you smile, he's going all in.
---
4.25.24
wc 1k
taglist @moonlightreader649 @svt-dk97 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess
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hanckocks-dagger · 2 months
Text
Shake, rattle, and roll
masterlist
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John Hancock x f!reader
Description: After three weeks on the road, you come home to Goodneighbor to find a sweet surprise from Hancock. Naturally, you fuck him about it. 
Tags: Such sappy smut guys, holy shit theyre in love, Hancock is a simp. Reader could be viewed as SoSu or not, no y/n, female anatomy
Warnings: smut! Pretty vanilla though, honestly, so nothing else to mention
Word count: 6K
Cross posted on my ao3
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The last day of travel was always the worst; with the end goal in sight
The morning sun beat down on you, the trek from Lexington having seemed almost endless. There was only one thing on your mind as you marched over the Harvard bridge; Hancock's bed. You had the full intention of crawling right into it and staying there, comatose, for several days.
Of course, it wasn't quite that simple. You needed to unload the spare weapons you'd picked up, throw those to KL-E-0. You also had some things to drop at Daisy's, some things to pass on to Ham for the Third Rail...
You pulled your pack higher onto your shoulders, ignoring the ache of your back from the weight of it, all the junk you'd decided to ferry back with you. The straps of the bag were sure to leave deep, painful indents in your skin, almost permanently rubbed raw after weeks of travel.
Downtown, you skirted between Diamond City outposts, making your usual wide berth around the city itself. Despite being human and technically welcome inside the city, you'd taken to avoiding it, as if their prejudice was infectious. You hadn't entered the gates in months by now, and even though you missed Power Noodles and stopping by the agency to bother Nick, you felt no real urge to step inside.
The inhabitants' paranoia, towards the institute and towards outsiders, made the air in the city oppressive. Compared to the freedom of Goodneighbor, even with all of its own problems, Diamond City felt tyrannical in comparison.
You made a wide berth around the old scrap yard, overrun by feral dogs, climbing a fire escape to reach the elevated turnpike.
The closer you got to Goodneighbor, the hard it was to push forward. With the end in sight, close enough that you could practically count the steps you had left, aware of every finite amount of energy you had to eke from your body. Still, you reused to break, pushing forward, hands wrapped tight around the straps of your pack, like a schoolchild with their brightly colored schoolbag
Just a little further. Just a little more. The turnpike turned North, and you had to duck and pause as some gunner scouts passed, the highway connected to some high-rises, precarious wooden planks forming bridges.
Crouched down low, your calves burned, your fingers ached as you gripped your revolver, checking the bullet count on autopilot and lining up a shot, just in case you were spotted.
You weren't, the mercenaries passing from one end of the bridge to the other, wood creaking under their weight, loud, unconcerned conversation passing between them.
You sneaked past them in a crouch, knees and back protesting, familiar flood of adrenaline humming through your blood, heartbeat in your ears. The thrill stayed even once you were out of eyesight, until you'd shaken out your joints and rolled your shoulders, back to your brisk pace.
One of these days, you promised yourself, zeroing in on the broken jaw of the freeway that you used to find your bearings, you'd find a way to make a portable Ham-radio. Staying away so long was making you half-insane. You hadn't heard his voice in over two weeks, and at this point you would have sold all the loot you were lugging around to see his face a few minutes sooner. You'd pay insane sums to be able to hear him on the regular while you were away. Joking, complaining, hell, even just reading off his fucking caravan logs.
The body of the freeway dropped to the ground, crumbling concrete surrounding a Gunner camp, probably the one those two idiots earlier were supposed to be protecting. Well, you thought, pulling a trip-mine from your pack, it wasn't your fault if they were fucking morons.
Behind the rusted body of a truck, you waited for the perfect moment to strike, listening with patience to the Gunners as they yelled and laughed, carefree in the way only over-confident assholes ever could be. On a different day, you would have attacked with something more complicated, something that could blast the entire camp in one go, but today, you were tired and homesick.
At the right moment, you activated the mine and tossed it, scurrying from behind your car to drop off the side of the freeway, landing in a crouch in an alley a street over from Goodneighbor, booking it as the mine went off and the yells changed from happy to panicked.
You'd often thought, as you and Hancock laid spread eagle on the bed, or sprawled over the couch, that between the two of you, you were by far the one more likely to turn feral. He was too clever, his mind too sharp, even dulled by drugs. You were the one running around the wasteland, scampering like some little creature, hoarding old-world junk, killing nearly indiscriminately. You survived on the high of your own adrenaline, surviving scrapes by the skin of your teeth, by clawing, biting, crushing, choking.
You held your breath until you could see the glow of the welcome-sign, neon arrow pointing at the door, like to the entrance of a dingy nightclub. It shone like a beacon even in the daylight, beckoning you home.
When your fingers touched the door, you swore you gained a second wind, the eerie stillness of downtown Boston turning into the hum of bustling Goodneighbor residents. You greeted the Neighborhood watch as you entered the town, and they variously tipped caps or winked at you, hands always on their guns.
Daisy's was full, the sure sign of a newly passed caravan. You spotted that Railroad guy, sipping from a bottle on the bench in front of the store, doing his usual job of completely failing to fit in by being almost unnaturally nondescript. That might work in Diamond city, but not in Goodneighbor.
Your steps were slow as you maneuvered through the crowd, aware of the pack on your back and the guns slung over your shoulders. You headed for Kill or Be killed, planning to unload some ammo and spare rifle you'd picked up. You kept your eyes peeled for that flash of red in your periphery, the heat that filled your chest whenever you were near him.
KL-E-0's store was empty, meaning she was probably on the second floor, conducting some less than savory business. You'd hustle out of there if you heard the sound of her laser powering up, but you decided to spare a few minutes.
You leaned your forearms onto the counter, taking some of the weight off your sore feet and back, eyes running over the visible apparel, wondering what things you should offload.
Sure enough, barely a minute passed before you could hear the wood creaking above you, footsteps descending the staircase and an achingly familiar voice:
"-Talk when my girl brings something new, call it a uh- personal favor."
You raised your head from where it had been lolling, that familiar voice sending a sweet ache through your chest and a giddy smile onto your face. His girl.
Hancock was turned away from you, speaking to KL-E-0, trusty shotgun in his hands.
If your pack had been lighter, you would have bounded into his arms and dragged him right back to the old State House. You would have indulged the exhibitionist in him, wrapped your legs around his waist and let him stick his tongue down your throat right there in the street.
Instead, though, you settled for walking over, supporting the bottom of your pack to keep it from rattling. KL-E-0's red eye flickered over to you for a moment, inscrutable as always, but she stayed quiet, allowing you to surprise Hancock as he chattered about the recoil of his gun.
You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, smushing your face between his shoulder blades. You breathed him in, the familiar smell of tanned hide, cigarettes and that ever present old-museum-smell that he'd tried many times in vain to get rid of. You inhaled with a shudder, pressing a kiss to his back, feeling his momentary frozen shock melt away as he seemed to register who was touching him.
He spun in your arms, leaving you face to face with soft eyes and a softer smile, a hand coming up to cup your cheek.
Warm lips pressed to yours and you melted arms sliding up to hook around his shoulders, pulling him flush to you. A corner of your mind– or your heart– which had spent the past two weeks growling about being apart from him, finally quieted down.
"Is that your gun digging into my hip, or are you just happy to see me, love?" He asked you when you separated, leaving you to snort and hide your face in his shoulder, so giddy you thought you might burst with it.
You swallowed past your joy, composing yourself so that you could lean back and flick the tip of Hancock's tricorn-hat upwards, giving you a better view of those lovely dark eyes, always so emotive, crinkled at the corners.
"Good to see you too, Mister Mayor," You breathed, hands sliding from his shoulders down to his waist, backing out of KL-E-0's store, dragging Hancock along with you. He came willingly, not allowing even an extra inch between the two of you.
All thoughts of bartering, even your own body's complaints were forgotten, your heart singing. You blinked against the sunlight, convinced suddenly that the weather was reflecting your mood.
"What's your plan for the day?" You asked, when it became clear Hancock was too busy staring at you to say anything. The two of you seemed to be wandering in a leisurely pace towards the old State House, but you didn't care where you were going. You'd follow him around all day if you had to. You could be going right back into the Wastes for all you cared. You'd trail behind him as he did whatever he needed to do, collapse from exhaustion and let him carry you back to bed.
"Oh, you know," He said, pulling you up the steps to the Old State House, opening the door for you, ushering you inside, "Was gonna get high and mope around all day, waiting for you." He had no sooner shut the door than he grabbed you by your belt, pinning you to the wall, your heavy pack hitting the wall. "Probably drive Fahrenheit crazy with my pining–"
You hum, smoothing out the lapels of his coat as his hands wander.
"Now, I'm thinking we go up and let the whole town we're reunited."
"Sounds perfect," You agreed, pressing a kiss to his jaw before pushing him gently in the direction of the staircase. He led the charge, half toppling over every step in his desperation not to let go of you.
The second you hit the landing he whisked you back into his arms again, hands restless as he squeezed your sides, traveled up your arms, touched your face, all before coming right back down again to squeeze your ass. Another breathy laugh escaped you, so happy you couldn't put your smile away even as you kissed him.
His hand slid up to your lower back, guiding you towards the bedroom, your lips still locked together.
you pulled away at the door as Hancock filled with the stubborn doorknob, always jammed right when you needed it to open. You keep your arms hooked around him, but you give a salute to the neighborhood watchman stationed in front of your door. His face stayed stoic, either used to yours and Hancock's antics, or from copious threats from Hancock. Both seem equally likely.
He did give you a nod, though, as Hancock crooned in victory, having managed to fling the doors open. You gave him a smile, right as Hancock grabbed your arms and pulled you in. You kicked the doors shut behind you, already laughing as Hancock showered your face with kisses, dipping you like a dancer.
You separated from him enough to finally drop your pack, which thumps to the floor. Your guns come off, placed down with more care, followed by your bandolier and scavenging jacket.
Hancock cracked the doors open as you busied yourself, calling out, "Make sure to keep all the riff-raff out today, yeah brother?" And then the doors were shut and locked. A peaceful quiet descending over you.
He takes your hands, pulling you to the center of the bedroom, leaving you bathed in afternoon sunlight peeking in from the open balcony door. The room was as clean as it ever was, five hundred years of grime that you'd long given up on trying to get rid of.
With the door open and the spring air flooding in, everything felt fresher, not weighed down by centuries of history, but just a normal bedroom. Your books had been stacked in neat piles on the dresser, where you could see one of your shirt sleeves peeking out from the drawer. The bed was newly made, and....
"Is that..?" You stared, taking in the sharp white color of the fresh sheets, looking brand fucking new. Not Commonwealth new either, no, this looked like the bleached and pressed sheets of a fucking prewar hotel.
Your eyes sought out Hancock's, expecting to find him grinning, boastful, the usual exaggerated ego coupled with his general cool-demeanor, but instead you found him looking... uncertain. One hand rubbing the back of his neck like he was... bashful.
"Where did you get this?" You asked, stepping over to the bed. You ran a hand almost irreverently over the fresh sheets, feeling the starched, crisp texture of it, not rotting and mildewed like almost everything was.
"Oh, a uh– new trade caravan passed through last week. From somewhere out west, they've been growing cotton and weaving shit.
As if in a trance, you started shucking off your clothes, not wanting to sully the fresh sheets with your blood and dirt stained layers. You only get as far as your outer shirt when Hancock's hands sneak back onto your waist, almost timid in their touch. You half wanted to slap them off in your urge to get naked, get under the sheets and let him touch you there all he wanted.
Instead, you spin around to face him, guide his hands under your shirt to the warm skin of your stomach. "You're an angel, you know that?" You said.
He laughed, "Only for you, sister. Devil to everyone else."
You laughed back at him, finally shedding your shirt. As you try to wrestle off your boots with the force of your heel, all the examples to the contrary fly into your head: Every kind action he'd done, every willingly shared drug, every situation where he'd chosen less violence than he needed to. The nights you'd spent watching him agonize over whether he was good enough for his community, whether he was making the right decisions.
Instead of bringing those up, you pecked his lips in thanks. With his 'help' (groping), you got your undershirt and bra off, leaving your torso bare.
You leant down to unlace your boots, your earlier attempts having been futile, but before you could Hancock had you off your feet, tossing you head first into soft, fresh sheets. He took over, hands trailing teasingly over the waistband of your pants before he turned to your boots, sliding them off and taking your socks with them.
You groaned, cheek smushed into the mattress, as nimble hands pull your pants down and off. Trailing fingers, tickling the backs of your naked calves, up into the hollow of your knees. You had to stifle a giggle as a feather light touch against your inner thigh made you jump.
The bed shifted as he climbed onto it, his legs bracketing yours, knees pressing into the flesh of your thighs.
Fingers on the waistband of your underwear.
"How about we get these off?" His voice, low and gravelly, suddenly hot in your ear. A gentle bite to the cartilage of your earlobe, the drag of fabric as your underwear was pulled down your legs and then tossed somewhere.
"You know," You breathed, raising yourself onto your elbows so you could crane your neck and tried to catch him in a kiss. You missed, but settled for kissing his shoulder, hovering just by your head. "I'm feeling a bit exposed here. You've stripped me bare and you're still clothed."
You turned underneath him, determined to get him to kiss you again, were met with his grinning face just above yours. "Well, let no one call me an unfair man," He said, sinking onto his haunches, just out of reach of your desperate mouth. He plucked his tricorn from his head, settled it onto your.
You raised yourself to him, stole a quick peck, languishing in every brush of his lips against yours. It was dangerous, how much you'd missed him on the road, pining to the point of distraction. The times you'd ducked into buildings to ease an ache brought on by reminiscing, imagining him besides you, or on you, or in you. Imagining him being beside you as you stumbled into firefights, imagined his hands patching you up, rather than your own.
"You didn't happen to remember to take any Rad-X this morning, didya?"
His words pulled you from your stewing. You groaned. In your excitement to get home, you'd completely forgotten.
"Can't we just... skip it? This once?" You asked, pulling on his collar, dragging him down to lie on top of you, his mouth in reach again. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, hooking one leg around his waist to ground him to you, keep him from getting distracted.
"You and I both know you'd regret that in the morning, sister."
He was right, the bastard. Spending your morning throwing up, hooked to a Rad-Away was not your ideal first day back. So, lamentably, you release your grip on him, hands and leg flopping to the side as he leant over to grab a bottle from the nightstand.
"I'm sure we can find something to... entertain you, while we wait for it to kick in."
You pouted, making a show of how frustrating his interruption had been, how desperate you were to get him back. Here you were, naked, spread-eagle and waiting, with patience you didn't have.
You watched, silently, as he dug into the bottle, drawing out two pills. As he stepped back over, you pulled yourself back onto your elbows, waiting for him to hand them over, or maybe deposit them into your mouth himself.
Instead, as he kneeled onto the bed, he put them into his own mouth, leaning over you to meld his lips to yours. You grabbed at him, feeling his arms wrap around your waist to support your weight as you melted in his arms. Slowly, in long, deep, searing kisses, the pills moved from his mouth to yours. Once they were on your tongue, he pulled his mouth off yours, scarred lips shining with spit, and moved to your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin as you gather enough saliva to swallow the pills.
Rad-X was quick to kick in, but the effects weren't instantaneous, leaving the pair of you with at least ten minutes to kill. On a normal day, you would have been happy to spend those minutes making out, taking your time in stripping Hancock off his clothes, egging each other on with dirty words and dangerous fantasies. But you'd spent over three weeks away from Goodneighbor, over three weeks of precarious mental foreplay, dreaming of his touch at night, fantasizing of him in the day. Suddenly, even the prospect of radiation sickness was not enough of a reason to stay away.
You tore at his coat, rucking his frilly shirt out from under his sash, exposing his slim stomach. You watched the muscle there tense under your touch, as you ran cold hands over his hips, tugging him closer to you. With practiced hands, you made quick work of untying the sash at his hips, satiny fabric sliding from your fingers and onto the floor like a waterfall.
Hancock bit into the flesh of your shoulder, making you hiss and dig your nails into the skin by his hip bones in retaliation.
You pull his chin upwards, leading his mouth to yours again, keeping those teeth from doing any more damage just yet.
Your generous hands wandered, up and under his shirt, roaming over the breadth of his chest, feeling it expand as he inhaled. You nipped at his bottom lip, drawing out a rumbling groan, felt both in your mouth against his, and in the vibrations against your fingertips.
You scooted to the edge of the bed, bracketing his hips with your thighs, freeing his hands so you could tug his coat off. Your hands slipped up under his collar, pushing his narrow shoulders backwards, giving you enough leverage to push the heavy coat backwards, the heavy fabric thumping to the ground.
Sometimes, when Hancock looked particularly vulnerable, usually collapsed on one of his couches, bleary with the haze of jet, his outfit reminded you of a child playing dress-up. In ancient coat tailored for a man with broader shoulders, a hat fit for a pirate and a disdain for the sort power he wielded.
You pulled your lips off of his, formulating a plea that would get you what you wanted, what words would make him understand just how badly you  ached for him, just how unbearable the emptiness in you was. You pressed a chaste kiss to his sternum, bare but hiding in the ruffles of his shirt, and made a blind grab for the waistband of his pants, words suddenly elusive.
His hands stopped yours, stilling them just by the button on his pants, so close to their goal.
You whined, the sound almost entirely involuntary, tilting your head up to meet Hancock's gaze with your own, sure now that he was teasing you.
"John," You managed, "This is cruel."
His eyes crinkled, as if you were the one making the joke, as if you weren't the one burning from the inside out.
"Well, now, I can't have you destroying my reputation. I worked hard to be known as a generous lover."
"Then stop teasing and fuck me."
But he only snickered like a bawdy teenager, gentle hands guiding yours to grasp at the fresh sheets. You watched helplessly, heartbeat in your throat, as he stepped back, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows before sinking to the floor in front of you, guiding your legs over his shoulders.
"This'll coast you over, sister."
He grabbed you by your thighs, tugging you closer until you could feel his breath on your [core]. Your thighs trembled, heels digging into his back, desperate to push him closer, to get his mouth where it needed to be.
Your eyes were squeezed shut, hands balled into fists, half convinced you would burst into tears if he didn't do something. You swore you could feel him laugh, right up against your pussy, unable to hear it over the rush of blood in your ears, a split second before his tongue was finally, mercifully, on you. The slick drag of it landing quickly on your clit, lapping at it teasingly, every strike on your nerves making you seize, already so worked up from being near him.
You cursed on an exhale, lungs burning, every nerve in your body sparking, your blood heating. There was an obscene slurping as he sucked hard against your clit, pressure just on the right side of pain, his fingers digging into your thighs.
Your head pushed hard into the mattress, Hancock's hat falling into your eyes, rendering the outside world suddenly dark.
Suddenly, all pressure vanished, making you let out a long, pitiful whine, releasing your death grip on the sheets to raise the hat and see what the ghoul would be torturing you with this time. You raised your head, found Hancock on his knees by the bed, looking at you with pure reverence, fingers running up and down over the plush, soft skin of your inner thighs.
You could feel the way his ministrations had spread your juices, the way the skin at the meet of your thigh and pelvis were glued together, sticky, pulling at your pubic hair just enough to be uncomfortable.
"What are you starin' at?" You panted, trying to get his wandering mind back to the matter at hand.
He grinned up at you from his perch, "What do you think?"
Fingers, crawling slowly, teasingly, up your thigh, into the divot where leg meets hip, tickling. Then, slow, gentle strokes through your pussy lips, scooping up all your wetness. A teasing, fleeting touch across your clit, making you seize, arching off the bed with a whine.
Then, the slick, slow glide of those fingers inside you.
"F-Fuck," You huffed, meaning to say something more like 'fucking finally, you torturer'.
"Such a pretty girl for me," Hancock says, that sly purr sending its own spark up your spine, mixed with his fingers, a slow, tantalizing in and out, "Been thinking about you for  days,  love. All alone out there, with no one to help you out. Running back home, to me, to let me help."
His fingers stilled. You clenched around him, every muscle in your legs seizing, your chest heaving.
"Is that what you were doing?" His voice was delicious, closer now. There's a bite into the flesh of your stomach, just above your belly button and you tensed against it, squirming into his fingers.
"Yes," You breathed, grinding hard onto his fingers, willing something, anything, to put pressure on your clit. You try squeezing your legs together, but Hancock's arm is in the way. A pathetic whimper escapes you.
"Wanna tell me about it, sister?"
You get out a "Please," legs moving restlessly, trying to get him to do anything, go in our out, anything at all. Blindly, you reach out and get him by the back of the neck, trying to push him downwards. You can feel his smile against the skin of your hip.
"Nngh- mmm, yes, I thought of you. Every day I was away." His head sunk lower, chin resting on your pelvis. "Thought about this, or sharing a hit of jet, or letting you pour wine into my mouth."
His mouth found your clit again, and you were sure you could cry, feeling his tongue flicking at the little nub, fingers starting to move again, a slow, languid in and out.
You arched off the bed, hands gripping the back of Hancock's head, legs going over his shoulders, pressing into his back.
"Shit," You breathed, one hand shifting to grab his forearm. The pressure on your clit increased suddenly, sending a spark through you that left you limp. Your hands slid from their grips, spilling onto the bed.
You looked down, finding Hancock's eyes on you. Then, he twisted his fingers in a way you didn’t recognize increasing the suction on your clit until you felt like he was trying to give you a hickey. You gasped, fingers digging hard into the bed, fabric rustling in your palms, hips snapping upwards, further into his mouth.
"Wait, that felt– do it again," You panted, to which he happily obliged, tongue and fingers twisting in a way that lit a spark in your body, like the strike of a lighter. A few more repeated movements and you moaned, probably loud enough to wake the drifters in the attic. Hancock's free hand wandered up the bed, catching one of yours in his own with a gentle squeeze. A moment so sappily romantic it managed to push you over the edge, your orgasm cresting over you like a warm wave.
Slowly, with a few extra nips to your inner thigh, Hancock sat back. Face wet with you, mouth curved up into a smile. You squeezed your legs together, shading your clit from the open air, chest heaving as you recovered from over stimulation.
"Get up here, please," You called, voice languid, hands reaching out to embrace him, crush him to you, hold him there forever. He obliged, crawling up against you, the texture of his pants against your naked thighs sending goosebumps across your skin. He slotted perfectly into your arms, pressing his mouth to yours.
You ached for him, wanting to get him closer, to tangle with him until you were impossible to separate. You kissed him like you were starving, all teeth and desperation, hands moving to shove off his vest, to unbutton his shirt, to get him naked, get him closer. He helped you, tossing the vest and then the shirt to the floor, warm chest pressing to yours, your tits trapped between the two of you, his rough skin grazing against your nipples, heat building behind your sternum.
Between your bodies, you felt his hand work at his pants. You were pressed so close together that every fumble grazed against your core, sending shocks of heat through you. You were so overwhelmed with need you couldn't decide where to put your hands, sure you'd be more of a hindrance than a help if you tried to get involved.
He made quick work of it, tugging down his pants, followed by his underwear.
He lined himself up, your excitement mounting until you were sure you would come again the second he entered. He captured your lips in another searing kiss, and finally your hands moved without you having to think about it, settling low on his hips in an effort to drive him closer.
"Ready?" He asked, and you felt your mind flash back to your first time with him, a rushed affair after a night drinking with him at the Third Rail. Even then, as it was a desperate fumble to get naked as fast as possible, spread over the couch in his office, clawing and biting with ferality, both of you desperate to get closer, even then, he had paused, hands on your panties, and asked, in that same soft tone, if you were ready, as if he expected you to have changed your mind.
"Yeah, I'm ready," You breathed, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation.
It's a slow, slick, delicious glide that has both of you groaning. Something in you slots into place, all your frenetic energy calm, as you grip at Hancock's back, burying your face in his neck as he starts to move.
"God, that's so–" you gasped, unable to finish, unsure of the words. You hitched a leg up onto John's waist, dragged him in for another kiss.
His pace was achingly slow, his touches sickeningly sweet. You focused on the fullness of it, the way the glide and drag of it seemed to fill your lungs even as he stole your breath with his tongue.
You wanted to live in this moment forever, here with him, inseparable in every way, as close as you could be. Hancock's hips drove deep, making you arch your back with a gasp for air, his lips vanishing off yours. The pace stayed sweet, sentimental, and you relished every sound that came from his mouth, every trembling breath.
"Wait," you breathed, tapping his shoulder like a time out, "Lemme, ugh–" With a few moves, you've twisted the two of you around, him on his back, you supporting yourself over him. He looked up at you, eyes twinkling with pure adoration, as you settled yourself with your legs under you, hands moving to his chest so you can keep your balance.
You settled yourself down onto his cock, your hips flush with his, and his hands found your waist, squeezing with that same softness. You set a pace, still calm, but decidedly faster, enough that your tits jiggle as you move.
"If this is some fucked up hallucination," Hancock rasped, voice choked, "I swear I'll lay off the drugs."
You laughed, breathless, grinding down to find that perfect spot inside you, hitting it over and over again, until the pleasure of it turns the inside of your eyelids white and your hands buckle, give out.
Arms caught you, of course, Hancock flipping you back over, managing to land that sweet spot again, enough that the tension spreads across your body, every muscle tensing up as you moaned, inches away from your second orgasm. His fingers on your clit do the trick, a few tight circles and the tension suddenly seeps out of you, a long, silent exhale. He fucked you through it, pace slowing down as you catch your breath.
You lean up to capture his lips again, grinding your hips to meet his thrusts, encouraging him to speed it up, to chase his own pleasure, relishing in the way his pace grows frantic, sloppier.
He gripped your wrists, bringing them over your head, held tight in his hands. Your torso lengthened, chin tilting upwards, exposing the length of your neck to him. He pulled away from your mouth so you take the chance, craning your neck upwards to nip at his skin, finding the soft tendons and sucking hard.
Through gasping breaths, he asked, "Where– nngh– where do you want me?" Your legs tightened around him, hands clawing at his back, using all the strength you had to keep him where he was.
Already, you can feel the way your own pressure is building back up, the way the repeated slide of it drives you right back to the edge.
"In– in me," You gasped, muscles shaking as he managed to hit that perfect spot in you over and over, back arching clean off the bed. You still weren't ready to let him go, even as you neared your third orgasm, still desperate to keep him where he was.
"Are you–"
"John," You cried, his hips slowing as he stopped again to check, your welfare always at the front of his mind. Sure, it would leave you raw and burning, making the next round a bit more pain than pleasure, but all you could think about was keeping the sensation of him imprinted on you as long as possible. "I'm sure, please."
He rutted against you, hips grinding against yours. His head dropped to your shoulder, gasping against your sweat slicked skin, two fingers sliding down against your throbbing clit.
You whimpered against him as pleasure flooded your body again, your grip on him weakening as your muscles shook, legs slipping from around his waist.
You mumbled words of praise as he came, hands roaming around his back, onto his cheek, your whispers of, "So good, so perfect, you're perfect, baby," audible only to him as he moaned. You felt the heat of him inside you, the slow building of fullness even as he softened.
You felt the slow, familiar tingling that preceded the lightly burning pain that would start. You felt Hancock shifting out of you, his mouth twisted into a guilty frown in the skin of your shoulder.
You clenched, feeling the slow dribble of heat spilling onto your skin.
Hancock's lips traced a path across your shoulder, down your arm, the occasional wet smack or nip at your skin pausing his journey. He detached himself from you slowly, regretfully, as if taking his skin off yours was some great sin. And it was, but in the service of a greater good, grabbing a clean strip of cloth from the bedside drawer, cleaning you up in gentle caresses, stickiness removed from your inner thighs, even softer touches over your pussy lips.
You let him busy himself, even as your fingers itched to get him back, wanting to tell him that you'd had worse pain, that you'd hurt for him every second if you had to. Instead, you only smiled at him when he glanced up at you, reaching up to pull him back to you. He came willingly as you pulled him back into your arms.
Tension faded out of your muscles and you melted into the bed, hands wrapped around Hancock's middle. "Did you miss me while I was gone?" You asked, smiling, voice soft. You just wanted to hear him say it, your own little version of 'I love you'.
Hancock raised his head, pecking your lips gently, leaving them tingling.
"More than you could ever know," He said, painfully earnest.
"Mmm, I think I have some idea."
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Notes:
The smut chapter took me ages to write for some reason, so if it sucks... uh. No it doesn't (if u see any spelling errors pls let me know tho)
Thanks for reading! Please leave me a comment, or request something, or just come chat with me!
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